She Whose Words Are Magic

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A/N: I'm trying this flat-color-lineless style for illustrations, thoughts?
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Seth's tail twitched in his sleep. I seemed to be the only one who noticed this, as I was the only one still awake. Other interesting facts included Ronan was breathing though his teeth and every once in a while, May would let out a soft coo. It was endearing but I was also getting cranky.

We were a few months old now. Every day I felt bigger, though we were all still less than half of our parents' size. Mum said we wouldn't be her size for a long time, but I kept finding myself wander back to the thought of what it was like out there in the world beyond our cave.

The sand crunched under my pads. There was a drift blowing in from the mouth of the cave, there the smell of life clinging onto it. Flowers mostly, I'd picked out fruit before. To a hatchling whose entire life had been lived in a rock so far, those kinds of smells are hard to comprehend.

Mum and Pop's scent was embedded in the moss in the front room. She had sat with him again now that were older and started eating meat instead of the mólk they regurgitated up for us. In my opinion, much more exciting, but I would miss the sweet stuff.

The room felt so large, or perhaps, maybe I was too small.

There was the gentle scrape of scales against stone behind me. The steps were two heavy and wide-pawed to be anyone but Pop.

He wasn't upset. "Skylark gave us the night to rest, you know."

I turned to him, "actually I don't. I know that name but I've never met that dragon."

"Mm," he breathed. "Perhaps it's time I told you. All of you."

On cue, there was a tiny sneeze and a hatchling fell out from her hiding place.

Ronan groaned "aw, come on May."

"Sorry," she curled into a ball, "the moss tickles my nose."

"You followed me," I frowned.

"You're not quiet either," Ronan's tongue flicked against my nose. I made sure to sneeze on it.

"Eww!" He giggled, before running away.

"Are you finally going to tell us the story Pop?" Seth failed to mask his excitement.

Pop laughed under his breath. "Yes, but let's not wake your muther up, shall we? Gather around my hatchlings. Gather quietly, for I'm going to tell you the tale of Skylark, she whose fire cools into islands. She, whose words once woven reap scales from the stars. She, whose words are so powerful they drown all other sounds. This means you must remain quiet, for this is not a tale you want to miss."

The four of us, squirming, gleeful hatchlings curled up against him. Once we were settled, Pop let out a sharp breath and my siblings gasped. It was only until I processed the heat and fuzzy... orb... of light in front of me I realized he was holding his fire between his claws. It was just blot of something that wasn't darkness, if I squinted, I could almost make out Pop's silhouette, his shimmering scales just as May described them to me. She was right, he was made out of gold.

"When I woke up, this is what the world looked like. It was dark, vast, and I was scared," he rasped. "Except for this, she called it fire. Her name was Skylark, and she appeared to me as a dragon, her scales were as black as the night that choked me. As we talked, the fire reflected off her scales and hung in the sky, they became the stars. Sky said that I was the first of my kind, and because of this, she gave me three things, a heart, a name, and a soul."

When he spoke her name, I thought I might burst from the thrill of it.

"She carved my tongue out of silver, and brought it to life by naming it, giving me the power of thought and identity. My heart, she fashioned from a rock taken from the center of the tallest mountain. When she blew flame across it, it crackled and started beating, and I could draw smoke from my chest, feel love, and cultivate hatred. Then she reached to own face, and ripped out one of her eyes and had me swallow it whole."

Seth let out a muffled cheep.  Pop paused, and I liked to think his lips were pulled back in a smirk.

"That is your soul, she said," he was definitely grinning, "and I do not give it away recklessly. Look now, to our faces. There was a pool on the ground at her feet, and when I looked, I saw our eyes. Mine now with a double ring around the pupil, her empty socket had been replaced with a shining gold star. The light from it burned so brightly, that I couldn't look on her until she covered it. With you name, you will speak, and be seen. With your heart, you will spit fire and feel fiercely. With your soul, you will always be connected to me, she said. You and your brethren will share my gifts, Gideon. You will live, and you will love, and you will rule over the rest of my brethren, the responsibility will pass to your hatchlings, then your hatchling's hatchlings, for it takes the best kind of dragon to bear mattúr, and you are the best of them all."

He paused, and when he took a breath I... I could see it. It was like I was there. Skylark's gentle growls—like waves—the flap of her wings—a maelstrom. I could smell the smoke on her breathe.

"She pushed her fire onto my body to seal her creation, hardening my skin into scales. Her last act was to pull the wings from my skin and fill me with strength. When I flew for the first time, she tied the horizon to my back. When I rose into the sky, as her sun, so did her world."  Pop laid down, and folded his paws underneath his chest.

I realized the story was over before I remembered to breathe. My lungs ached like I was taking the first breath with my pather all over again.

"What happened next?" I rasped.

Pop let out a mrr. "I started to raise hatchlings."

"No Pop, what about Skylark and Mum?" Ronan groaned. "Where did she go?"

Pop stood, and stated the walk back to the den. "Skylark is always here; we all have parts of her soul. I met your muther later."

The four of us tumbled after his sweeping tail. I was shoved to the ground when someone accidentally stepped on my muzzle and hissed to let them know. I was left behind, as always. I was too buzzed to be snappy about it however.

"Was that a story? Do you have more?" I begged.

Pop stopped and I skidded to a halt as I felt his eyes on me. "I have many stories, and I will tell them when the time comes. Tonight, the moon is full, Skylark's eye was open. When the next time comes, you will know." He then added, with more jest, "it might be tomorrow, the only way to find out is to go back to your nests, loves."

Sleep was on my mind right now like a beetle rests in a firepit. Pop wouldn't budge however, and not wanting to wake Mum up, eventually we crawled back to our nests. The story may have made our minds grow, but it also made them tired. I remember clutching the pine cone as I closed my eyes, and wishing beyond anything I could bring back that feeling of being there, and talking with Skylark herself. 

For the first time, I felt the moon on my back.

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