A Dragon's Lineage

For a Pokémon, dwelling among humans comes full of quirks and oddities, and it's rife with occasions you'd never encounter while living in the wild. The humans have their orbs with simulated habitats that carry Pokémon both great and small in them. They bring in a variety of contraptions that they use to carry themselves around or keep their dens lit and warm regardless of the time of day or the season—including the one you're in now. And of course, they have access to medicines and machines that allow Pokémon to recover from wounds that would be mortal in the wild.

But the human oddity that holds your attention most right now is a cylinder sitting on the tiled floor of the hallway of the human den you're in. The cylinder looks much like a light-creating contraption humans call a "lantern", but this one has a purple and yellow egg resting inside of it behind a layer of clear glass. If you hold your head in front of it right, you can even see your reflection in it. Your white and blue scales along your serpentine body, the blue orb on your neck, and the pair of wings on the sides of your head.

"Are you sure this will work out?"

The hissing voice that reaches your ears and prompt you to give a quick turn of your head to your left, reveals an Arbok staring worriedly down at you, giving an unconscious waggle of her tail back and forth. She is your partner, the two of you both under the same human. And... she is also your mate.

She glimpses briefly at the egg in the contraption—an "incubator", you've heard it called—and flicks her tongue briefly before looking away from you with a low sigh.

"My kind doesn't normally rear children for long," she says. "No longer than it takes for them to slither off into the grass," she continues, turning aside with a hint of hesitation. "I'm… not sure what I'd be able to offer our child when I don't know the first thing about watching over one."

You flatten out your head-wings and suck in a sharp breath. If you were still back in the wilds, you would never hear the end of this from your peers. They'd have no shortage of words to say about how you chose a mate who by nature wasn't used to staying and nurturing her child. About how you sired a child who would never be able to fly alongside you; nor to fight as you could, for they would never wield your dragonfire. One who would draw mockery and laughter from dragonkind were he or she to claim the title of 'dragon'.

You shake your head to try and dismiss those thoughts. Why were you dwelling on them anyways? You'd come to live with humans precisely because those other dragons didn't lend you aid at a time of need in the wild. Because none showed up when you were swept onto sharp rocks by a rogue wave when you were still a Dratini, and were left with deep wounds from it. Wounds that kept you from moving about in the water properly and made you gravely ill after they grew infected. If you hadn't been discovered on that beach by humans all those years ago, you likely never would've lived long enough to worry about a child at all.

She'd even given you a chance to return back to the wild after evolution wiped those wounds away… and you'd turned the chance down, because you'd made friends with the other Pokémon that traveled with the humans you came to know.

Including the Arbok with whom you'd sired the egg in the incubator you're staring at right now. Your whole life has been marked by taking chances and making choices that aren't possible for you in nature. Why should that change now?

"We aren't living like that," you insist. "There's room for us to try things differently."

A crack sounds out, as a fissure runs down the length of the shell and violet scales nose at it from underneath. The Arbok sets her teeth on edge and looks around worriedly.

"Of all the times for Belinda not to be here," she murmurs.

You're a bit nervous yourself, and you find yourself sharing your mate's wish that your trainer were present at the moment. But she won't be back to this den for a few hours still, and you're pretty sure that in this case, you've learned enough from her in order to get by at the moment.

"It's alright," you insist. "I think that I can get the machine open."

You nose at the plastic covering over the front of the incubator and after a few fumbling noses at it, it slides open—just in time for the egg to split and the form of a young Ekans to emerge with a few tired groans. This is your child who you've been waiting for all these weeks. It takes a while before you can spot the appropriate patch of scales that lets you know for certain, but this is her.

You pause and your heart swells for a moment as you lower your snout at the young serpent. She abruptly coils up, and then shrinks back with a sharp rattle of her tail that makes you hesitate.

Are you scaring her? You hesitate and try to pin the wings on your head back to make yourself look smaller and less imposing.

"H-Hi there," you stammer. "I… I know that I probably look different than what you're expecting, but I'm your-"

You don't get to finish your words before you hear a startled hiss. Before you know it, you feel is a heavy smack at your snout from a lunging tackle, followed by the stabbing pain of fangs sinking into it.

"Agh!"

You lurch backwards from the incubator and fight every bone in your body to not thrash about. A quick glance down your snout reveals your child dangling from your snout, her top fangs sinking into them past your scales. Your mate slithers over and hurriedly nuzzles at the Ekans, speaking in a soothing tone with a soft hiss.

"Easy! Easy, little one! There's nothing to worry about! That's your father!"

You wince a little as you feel a weight let go of your snout. Your child hits the floor and slithers behind the Arbok.

You nose at your wounded snout, and brush away a couple droplets of blood against your scales. It occurs to you that you're still feeling healthy at the moment. Guess your mate's reassurances that her kind starts their lives without poison weren't just empty words. You turn back to your mate, and see your child craning her head out warily from behind her mother to look at you.

"Da-a da?"

It will take some weeks before your child's grasp of her voice's rhythm and tone begins to allow her to speak coherently, and you're not sure whether or not her letting go of you was a fluke or not. You see your mate nose at her to try and calm her down, as your eyes begin to drift towards the floor of the human den.
You start to get doubts again. Over whether this was a good idea. Over whether this will even work. Sure, Belinda will be there to help care for your child as your trainer, but with how different you and your mate are, will your child love you the way you want to love her back?

"Dada."

You feel scales brush up against yours, and look to see your child has come up to you and begin curling around your body. Or she's trying to, at least. Your worries and fears ebb away then, as you resolve that whatever the future holds for your family, that you'll work things out.

"Y-Yeah, th-that's me. Dada. You- You kinda gave me a scare there."

You nose at your child and she noses back at you. You don't know whether or not she will ever be able to call herself 'dragon'. Or whether she'll ever be able to share any of your ways. But right then, right there, you are convinced that in all the ways that matter, that she is just like you.