Week Three
Shadowfen had rules. I was learning them slowly, painfully, one near-death experience at a time.
Rule One: Everything wants to kill you.
Rule Two: If something doesn't want to kill you, it's because something bigger is about to.
Rule Three: The purple glowing things are never, ever safe.
Rule Four: Having a baby dragon makes you a target for things that think "easy meal" and other things that feel "potential threat to eliminate early."
I discovered Rule Four the hard way.
Day 18
We were ambushed by a Marshfang Serpent, bigger than the one I'd killed for food, meaner, and apparently very interested in the mana-rich snack wrapped around my neck.
The dragon, still unnamed, still tiny but growing daily, woke with a hiss that was more adorable than threatening. She puffed out her chest, spread her too-big wings, and blew a puff of shadow-smoke at the serpent.
The serpent, unimpressed, lunged.
I moved on instinct, my Survival Instinct screaming warnings half a second before. Grabbed my spear, now actually sharp, thanks to patient hours of grinding it against stones, and caught the serpent mid-strike.
The impact drove me back three feet. My feet scrambled for purchase. The dragon shrieked, tiny claws digging into my shoulder hard enough to draw blood.
Through the bond: Fear. Anger. Protect!
"Stay on me!" I shouted, twisting the spear. "Don't you dare try to..."
She leaped off my shoulder.
"...help. Fuck."
The hatchling hit the ground, stumbled, and caught herself. The serpent's attention immediately shifted; prey was prey, and she was small and apparently delicious.
It lunged at her.
Something in me snapped.
The rage was instant, absolute, and came from somewhere deeper than thought. My vision tinged red. The world narrowed to a single point: the serpent threatening my dragon.
I moved faster than I thought possible. Closed the distance in a heartbeat. My spear punched through the serpent's body with strength I didn't know I had, pinning it to the ground.
It thrashed. I twisted the spear, put my weight behind it, and felt something give. My claws, when had I extended them?, dug into the serpent's scales. I could smell blood, mine and its, could hear myself making sounds that weren't quite human.
[COMBAT COMPLETE: MARSHFANG SERPENT DEFEATED]
[+180 EXP] [LEVEL UP! YOU ARE NOW LEVEL 6]
[TITLE EARNED: PROTECTIVE PARENT]
[BONUS: DAMAGE INCREASED WHEN DEFENDING COMPANION]
The serpent stopped moving.
I stood there, breathing hard, covered in blood and mud, spear still embedded in the corpse.
The dragon chirped.
I spun, dropped to my knees next to her. "Are you okay? Did it hurt you? Let me see..."
She headbutted my chest, making that rumbling purr sound. Through the bond: Safe. Proud. You're strong.
"You," I said shakily, pulling her against me, "are never doing that again. Never. Do you understand? You stay on me when we're fighting."
But you won
"I don't care! You're... you're tiny! You could've..." My voice cracked. I couldn't finish the sentence.
She nuzzled under my chin, and I felt her contentment mix with my lingering terror. She didn't understand. How could she? She was barely three days old. She just knew I'd protected her, and that was enough.
I held her until my hands stopped shaking.
Day 20
The dragon was getting big enough that I needed to actually think about her safety beyond "keep her attached to me at all times."
I spent the day reinforcing our hollow, using my Earth Manipulation to create a small ledge inside, a shelf where she could sleep safely while I was out hunting. I wove additional branches into a kind of nest, lined it with the softest moss I could find, and even managed to shape a few flat stones into what passed for a wall.
It wasn't much. But it was something.
She inspected my work with the seriousness of a tiny, scale-covered building inspector. Sniffed every corner. Tested the moss with her claws. Finally, she curled up in the center of the nest and looked at me expectantly.
Acceptable. You may stay.
"Oh, may I? How generous."
She yawned, showing off her rapidly sharpening teeth, and I felt fondness pulse through the bond.
I'd been calling her "dragon" or "hatchling" or "hey you" for days now, but it was starting to feel wrong. She deserved a name. Something that fit who she was, fierce, curious, made of shadow and trust.
"I'll figure it out," I promised her. "Give me time. I'm bad at names."
She made a sound that might've been agreement or might've been "hurry up, human," then fell asleep with her tail wrapped around her nose.
I sat at the entrance to the hollow, watching the sun set over Shadowfen, and tried to remember the last time I'd felt this... necessary. Like my existence mattered to someone beyond just taking up space.
Emma had made me feel that way once. Before the addiction got bad, before the fights, before I'd walked into the bathroom and found her gone, she'd needed me, or I'd thought she had, and when she died, that purpose died too.
But this? This small dragon who trusted me absolutely, who chirped when she saw me, who curled around my neck like I was her whole world?
This was different. Terrifying. Real.
"I'm going to do better this time," I told the swamp, the setting sun, the universe that had dumped me here. "I'm not going to let her down."
The swamp, predictably, didn't answer.
But the dragon's steady breathing, the warmth of the bond in my chest, the sense that maybe I'd been given a second chance at being someone worth keeping...
That was enough of an answer.