Slight description of gore and some language warning (it's just one word don't worry)

A gentle wind passed through the forest, softly rustling the leaves of trees - their shadows dancing, swaying in the afternoon glow. If you listened closely, the faintest of tunes could be heard, emanating from somewhere within. If you followed the humming, you'd be led down a curved path, past a rocky cave and stream with tiny splashing fairies and fish alike, down the soft slope and finally into a clearing. Therein stood a large tree, a great being, its branches spreading long and wide, chains of leaves hanging down like a veil, shielding whoever sought shelter under it. There was something about it - maybe the strange patterns of the bark - that made it seem'… powerful. It gave off an immense aura, such that anything and everything around it flourished. Currently, a young woman sat beneath it, picking various flowers and herbs which grew beside the trunk, as you do.

These plants were important to her, with their medicinal properties and all - for you see, she was an apothecary, creating medicine and cures for those who needed it. In this instance, her client was a frail old lady (A very sweet lady, mind you) whose strength was rapidly decreasing. She was weak, fatigued and frequently blacking out. The most probable diagnosis was iron deficiency, however she couldn't be too careful and so this time she would add some extra… Effects, per say.

Standing up, having collected the herbs and flowers, she dusted herself off and made her way back to the village. As she went, she revised the extra ingredients she would add. A fish scale, for flexibility, to help her stiff back, maybe a dragon scale too - she would need the extra strength. Contrary to popular belief, dragons weren't rare or uncommon - plus, they shed scales everywhere so those weren't hard to find. The current dragon race are much more docile than their aggressive, pure-blood ancestors - the kind you'd find in old tales. However this also made them hunting game, hunters and soldiers hunting them down and feasting on them. They were also more varied, different types having different scales as an indicator of the magic they used. She was able to find particular types by studying the scales carefully - the more vibrant the colour, the more powerful their core strength, whilst dull coloured scales represented old age yet much more powerful magic.

Ah, she wanted a dragon. They were her namesake - Dracaena, ancient language for the Sky Kings, in other words, dragons. People just called her Drake though, her proper name being quite hard to pronounce. They were so lovely and loyal - once she had come across one in the midst of a torrent of rain, and noticing her it extended its wing to shelter her. Sure, she had been a child at that time, maybe it wanted to protect her because she was young - but she would never forget those bright, ruby scales from that day. They were so pretty, their pattern unique, smale swirls engraved on each of its scales. It was simply magnificent! Truth be told, she wanted to see that dragon again - if at least to thank it.

She continued strolling through the forest, humming quietly to herself, when she noticed something on one of the trees. Claw marks. Rather large ones, too. In fact, the very tree itself was near toppling over. Scales were strewn over the place, heavy imprints left on the hard paths. The path'… This led to her village! Following the trail of destruction, Drake ran as fast as her legs carried her. At some intersections there were splashes of blood, thick and almost shimmering, with scales strewn about and floating amongst the liquid. A dull red, almost a dark red. It seemed as though there was a fight, and a brutal one too. No way would a dragon that injured get away easily. She just couldn't place what could have hurt it that much'… What creature could deal that much damage? Drake chewed her lip, brows furrowed in deep thought. She couldn't dwell on that now, though it greatly unsettled her.

The village came into sight, not too far away. She heaved a great sigh of relief, no signs of danger. The battle marks had gone altogether. Strange, she noted. If the dragon did head for her village - well, that wouldn't end well. They were extremely superstitious - considering magic and whatnot as bad luck. Drake was an outcast, they didn't accept her, calling her medicine and cures works of the devil. That wouldn't stop her though. People needed her help, she would be damned if she let a few passing comments stop her from curing them. Entering the village, nothing seemed out of place except an unusually large crowd at the town square. As she passed through, the beginnings of a rumour reached her ears.

‘Oh the brave soul! He should be-'
‘Such a valiant soldier!'
‘-promoted for his might!'
‘-latest catch'… Tonight, we feast!'

Catch? What catch? A fish? But soldiers didn't catch fish'… they fought and protected the village. Well, they were supposed to, at least, but she couldn't say so about the soldiers here. She reached the town square, pushing her way through to the centre of the commotion. Apologising, she managed to squeeze her way in. Still quite far, but close enough to get an adequate view. Something shimmered - dull, almost lifeless - in the corner of her vision. A darkened crimson, splatters of liquid, and a soldier - grinning as though he had accomplished something great.

Her blood ran cold.

Time seemed to slow as Drake fought to get a better look. Past the cheering crowd, past the disgusting ‘valiant' soldier, she sought to confirm her fears. Her gut clenched - anyone would give up in this situation, yet it still fought to live, seeking to be free from its binds. It was suffering, being forced to accept its cruel fate. Blood gushed forth from several cuts, dripping with a metallic shimmer. Patches of scales were entirely missing, strewn over the place. Its limbs were bound, stretched and tied to different poles. Wooden stakes, she noted. Embers glowed beneath its heaving front - the start of a fire. Its front, bulging suspiciously, leaking crimson liquid like the rest of its body'… Oh.

Her face paled, the realisation sickened her to the stomach. She didn't want to believe one man could be so cruel. His claims of it storming after him in a fit of rage, him going about his business peacefully, wielding his blade in self-defense'… All false. He wanted recognition, he wanted a promotion, he was greedy and let himself into its den, seeking to slay the magnificent creature. It tried to run - to protect itself and the life begging to begin within it - but he wouldn't have it. His actions held consequences, he would get what he deserved.

The beginning of a shell could be seen, peeking through the gruesome cut of its skin - a life ruined, destroyed before it had begun, motherless'… Like her. A burning rage bubbled up from the depths of her being, ebbing, flowing, overwhelming.

With renowned vigor, Drake pushed through the mob, not bothering to apologise this time. Reaching the front, standing next to the filthy villain, she stood, facing him. He grinned from ear to her, looking at her quizzically. The crowd became still, tense. As if something clicked in his non-existent brain, he held out his grimy hand.

‘Aw, look, this girly came all the way up here to congratulate me! I feel honoured! I'm in a good mood now, here, you want to shake my hand, right?'

She ignored him, stooping to pick up a scale, examining it, she noted. This dragon was old, a female, creating the dull sheen. Most likely its scales used to be a brilliant vermillion, swirling patterns imprinted onto them. She recognised those patterns, those swirls, from a memory of long ago. She pocketed it, turning to her old friend. Patting its head - her head - she whispered to it, so only they could hear.

‘Thank you, for back then. I wonder, can you understand me? Do you remember me? You sheltered me'… It may have been nothing to you, but it meant the world to me. I'm sorry, I can't save you, but at the very least, I'm sure I can save your young. Hold on until then, ok? I promise, I'll come for you, so wait for me'…'

She held in her tears, turning back to the villain.

‘Oh, those scales? You can keep them, think of it as a trophy - I have loads anyway. Remember my generosity, girly, I was the one who saved this town from that disgusting, vile monste-'

Slap.

He clutched his cheek, staring, wide-eyed at her, mouth agape. As if no one had slapped him before. He fell to the floor in disbelief. From her place above him, Drake glared at him.

‘Feast all you want, enjoy this now, because karma's coming for you, asshole, and soon.'

With that, she left, leaving the dumbfounded crowd behind. As if her reputation couldn't get any worse, now she'd be notorious for slapping a so-called hero. Not that she cared, no one badmouthed her friends. Besides, that slap felt good. Tonight they would feast, no doubt about that, so she would come back in the evening - her oddly superstitious village believed it was bad luck to go out in the evening - and complete her mission. Oh, if only they knew'…

The Sun set quicker than anticipated. Drake had bid her time at her shop, concocting the medicine she had planned earlier, delivering it to the kindly lady. Fashioning an earring out of the scale, she put it on, along with her cloak, and set out.

No one was out, the paths were empty. Nevertheless, she snuck to the town square, knife hidden in her boot. Once there, Drake eyed her friend. Still alive - good. Creeping up to the platform, she made sure to pass in front of her eyes so she knew she was there.

‘I came back for you, just as I promised. Everything's going to be ok now,' she crouched down, enough to go under the majestic creature. Knife at the ready, she began her operation, making a clean cut at the front as gently as possible. After a good half an hour of questioning her skills, she managed to save the egg, albeit being covered in blood. It was quite heavy, around half of her size and was white with vermillion swirls. She showed the mother, who was losing energy. She didn't have much of it at this point. Drake couldn't bear watching her struggle, and so she whispered soft reassurances. Her friend growled out in pain, trembling ever so slightly.

She wanted to end her pain, so she could pass in peace, but didn't want to hurt her. Another growl settled her decision - at least she wouldn't be burnt alive. Steeling her nerves, she positioned the blade correctly. At this, the dragon's eyes widened, clearly afraid.

‘I'm sorry,' her lip trembled, ‘I'll make it quick, so hang in there a little longer, ok?'

Tears dripping down her face, she made the cut. Its body fell limp.

Drake looked down, drained. Her clothes were drenched in blood, as were her hands. She gathered herself, it wasn't over yet. Footsteps approached, alarming her of another presence. Grabbing the egg she snuck away, back to her residence. Their voices reached her ears - they had come to collect their meal. She grit her teeth - she wouldn't look back.. Couldn't look back.

Once out of earshot, the adrenaline faded. She barely stumbled into her home, tears streaming, sobbing, breaking down. It was too much for her right now. The gruesome sight she had witnessed would stay with her forever, unless she forgot. But she didn't want to forget, either. It was important after all, because after tonight'… She didn't want to think of it. She knew the fate of the village, held it in her hands like the fate of the egg. They deserved it, Drake reasoned. After tonight, it would all be over. She would be able to leave. She'd be free. Finally.

The Sun was high in the sky, shining in through the curtains in streaks of light. Drake forced herself up, checking up on the egg which was currently set in a makeshift incubator. She was in a right state, she realised as she caught a glimpse of her reflection - red rims, puffy eyes and dry tear tracks. That could all be fixed with a few herbs, though, so it wasn't much of a problem. She washed up, dressed, and applied said herbs. Taking a deep breath, she left her house, closing the door behind her. Whilst usually the town was lively at this time, today it was silent. No bustling crowd, no noise - just pure silence and emptiness. No matter, she knew where they all were. Drake set off to her destination, marching on.

The town hall. Usually used for celebrations and community events, it was used for the village feast the night before. Taking a deep breath, Drake entered.

A hundred bodies lay everywhere, some seated, some laying on the floor, all with their eyes closed, as if asleep. It was a harsh reality. They were dead. On the table, the plates were mostly clean, the large dish in the centre completely empty. Good for them. She wasn't surprised, for you see, since the moment she saw the scales, Drake knew what would become of them at the feast. Her friend had swirls on her scales, a clear indication to stay away, yet she was the only one who could decipher that meaning. The dragon they had just feasted upon was a poisonous kind - a single bite and the poison penetrates the system, inducing a slow and sleepy death. They wouldn't have known, and they deserved it anyway. She made her way through the piles towards the end, where the soldier sat, perched as the head of the table.

Bringing out her blade, she sliced his head off, decorating the centre platter with it. Picture perfect. With her work done, she left the hall, returning home. There, Drake packed her things, grabbed the egg - her new friend - and promptly left, leaving behind no trace of her existence.

All was well.

Ok so this was probably not what anyone was expecting, this was supposed to be a happy fantasy story about dragons and everything... How did this happen? Also yeah it's quite long... Two story posts in one day? Wow you guys are lucky! Also I think my writing quality dropped a quarter of the way through because I wrote 3/4 of it today... Anyway, enjoy and thanks for reading! Please give me some feedback or suggestions in the comments! Idea and character name from Draconid Jo!

A fire crackled, the orange glow a stark contrast to the dark of the night around it. Small sparks flew away, landing somewhat far from the burning logs. Above it rested a contraption made to roast the fish currently set there - a fresh batch from today's catch. Off to the side lay a basket - still full of raw fish - for she had discovered long ago that her companion much preferred them that way (She did not like the feeling of roasted trout smacking into her face). Speaking of her companion, he should be back by now'… Ah, there he was!

Landing with a thud outside the rather small cave, he shook his wings and crawled in. He was still young, looking exactly like his mother with the exception of his wings and tail - they were bulkier and more muscular, having more definition and weight. Being almost twice her size, he was quite large for a dragon of only two and a half years. Drake snatched up the basket, moving it away before grabbing a cloth she had fashioned from boar hide. She gently wiped his scales, drying him - it had been raining after all, and a sick dragon was terribly hard to care for. The dragon - whom she had named Delitri Frasei, venomous flames (Or just Del) - curled around her by the fire, seeking warmth. Once Del was dry, she brought the basket closer, allowing him to dig in. Dig in he did - before long the basket was empty, contents transferred to his belly. He let out a contented snort, promptly falling asleep. Typical.
Drake gently stroked his scales - vermillion with a silver sheen, only loose swirls engraved - poisonous, yes, but deathly? No. The most it could do was cause dizziness and headaches, possibly some minor hallucinations, the equivalent of a tankard of heavy mead. Rather, it was his tail you had to watch out for - spikes lined the top of it, ready to impale whoever dared cross them. His mother didn't have them, so she could only assume they were from Del's father, what with this particular characteristic having a dominant allele.

The past two and a half years had been harsh on them - leaving the town Drake had crossed the forest into neighbouring towns and villages - none of which were willing to accept them. She had managed to grab some supplies, sneaking past the occasional nobles and acquiring valuable items from their pockets, then selling them to make money. Why did one man need so many handkerchiefs? She never understood, not like they'd miss one out of their many white and gold trims. Of course, this was illegal. But then again, they never realised. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, right? Besides, she had a child to protect'… A dragon child, which was, by the way, much more high maintenance than your regular human child. Drake sighed - she was fine like this, no one ever accepted her anyway, why would they now?

She didn't need people.

They didn't need anyone else.

All they had was each other, and that was all they needed.

Yep, this was short, I just wanted the story to have a final ending sort of thing, this is more of an extra epilogue than an actual chapter finishing this short story off, so thank you to everyone who reads this and all the support I am getting! Keep giving me those requests (See my Request blog for more details), and I'll continue writing up my other stories!

Request by DraconidJo!