a/n: hey, thanks for checking out Starry Veins! This is the novel I
wrote for Round V of LMS, and it's still a first draft! While I don't
discourage any feedback, I prefer not to receive feedback on grammar!
I'm not polishing this draft up yet, so I'm not as concerned about
editing. I am, of course, open to all feedback, but I ask that you keep
this in consideration! Thanks <3
*
[Cassius]
warning for: death/corpses.
There were three eggs half his size, bigger than any he’d
ever seen. They were lying in partially broken shards. The shells were dark,
mottled brown, with strange flecks of colour that shimmered at different
angles.
Next to the eggs were three, downy-feathered dragonlings. Two
of them lay still, feathers stiff and eyes shut. One’s tiny mouth was opened,
as if in a half-formed cry. He wanted to start crying as he looked upon
them. They were only half his size, but they were so little.
The third one was the closest to him. It was shifting around
in the nest, and upon seeing him, began to make chirping noises. The feathers
along this one’s body were damp, and the egg still wet and messy. He let out
several little small gasps, forgetting how to breathe properly, and his eyes
began to sting. “Oh,” he whispered.
Then the dragonling raised its little head and hissed at him.
It was a feeble effort at best, and it was curled into as tight a ball as it
could. He began to shiver, head swimming.
“Cassius,” Rowan called quietly, somewhere below. When he
didn’t respond, they tried again more insistently, “Raz. What was that?”
He
didn’t know if he could respond. He was completely paralysed, save
for the tremors rushing through him. He tried to take in steady
breaths, and mostly failed. “Dragons,” he murmured, hopefully
loud enough for Rowan to hear. The dragonling hissed at him again,
and then shuddered, and its head fell weakly back to the nest.
“Drag—
dragons?!”
Alanna squawked. Then came another muffled squawk, as though someone
had covered her mouth.
“They
were hers,” he said, tears leaking down his cheeks. He scrubbed
them away. “The dragon they killed. They’re hers. Two of them—
Only one survived, she must have recently—” He hiccupped.
“Are
you sure? If you imprint on them, the mother…” Rowan trailed off,
whether thinking better of their words or realising that Cassius
probably knew already.
He
did.
The
dragonling shivered again. Carefully, he edged further into the nest.
Its eyes, vibrant amber with a blue shadow around its catlike pupil, drifted
to watch him, but did not raise its head again.
She.
She had the beautiful, prismatic colouring of the dragon they had
brought down. The other two had only two colours, one a beautiful
blue and tawny, and the other speckled green and red. The one in
front of him was multi-hued, pale colours that would eventually
become vibrant bleeding together with her feathers. She was so pale
she was almost white.
“Hi,”
he said, in a voice as soft as he could muster. She lifted her chin.
“Hi, I’m Cassius. You’re very cold, aren’t you?” Whether in
response to him, or as circumstance, she shuddered again, and blinked
heavily. “Does anyone have any food with them?”
“I
stole some two muffins from the kitchen,” Ember responded. “They’re
here, in my pockets. Should I throw them up?”
“Yes,”
he said, never looking away from the dragonling.
One
of the muffins landed behind him, and the other hit him in the
shoulder.
He
picked them both up. Whether it was the smell or the sight of his
movement, the dragonling raised her head again, her tiny ears
twitching forward and nostrils flaring. “Here,” he said, and tore
off a piece he gauged to be about bite-sized for her. “It’s not
meat, but it’s food.”
As
soon as he placed it next to her, she darted forward like a viper and
scarfed it down. She began to shift clumsily, so she was on her belly
like a cat. He placed the second half of the muffin in front of her,
and she did the same, making little cooing noises now.
When
he held out the last piece for her, now having her rapt attention,
she lunged forward before he’d even set it down. She got the
muffin, but razor-sharp teeth tore through the back of his hand. He
gasped in surprise and yanked his hand back, cradling it to his
chest.
She
stared at him, finishing her muffin piece slowly now. Oh
no.
She’d smell the blood, and she’d recognise that he
was meat.
Then she began to make a low whining noise and stood up, her
full height about the size of the guild’s large mouser, Lore, and crept
forward. He froze, unable to think beyond she’s going to eat me.
Stretching
out her neck, she whined again. Unsure what possessed him to do such
a thing, he held out his hand. She began to lap at it with her
tongue, and when he flinched, she paused. Then, she grew more
delicate, watching him all the while.
The
pain slowly receded from his hand and he stared at it. It hadn’t
closed or stopping bleeding, but it tingled as if numbed, and the
blood flow began to slow. The wound shimmered faintly as his hand
moved a little.
Then
the dragonling stopped and crawled into his lap. She shoved her head
into his abdomen, but thankfully, her horns were only stubs at such
an early stage. She pressed herself as close as she could and curled
up, shivering.
Awestruck,
and utterly forgetting about his hand, he ran his fingers lightly
across her flank. She sighed, nestling even closer.
She
was cold, not blood thirsty. She was still damp, and it was freezing
in here.
He
took off his jacket carefully, so as not to disturb her, and
blanketed her form. She snuggled into it. He gently picked her up,
and when she did not struggle or cry out, hugged her to his chest.
She cooed.
As
slow and cautiously as he could, he climbed down the nest. The other
three were at the bottom, watching him with wide eyes and open
mouths. Well, Ember had her hand over Alanna’s mouth, so he
couldn’t tell.
Alanna
shoved Ember hand away when he was on the ground and had turned to
face them. “Raz!” she whispered, alarmed. “Your hand!”
He
shook his head, cradling the dragonlings form with both arms now.
“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt.” He glanced down, where the
dragonlings head peaked out from the coat. Her eyes were shut, and
she was making soft snuffling noises from her snout. “This is more
important.”
“Here.”
Rowan bent down to the end of their woollen skirt, and with some
difficulty, tore a strip off.
He
tried not to look too surprised at the gesture. Rowan would never
willingly destroy their clothes unless it was incredibly important.
They
reached out and pried his hand away, enough to wrap the strip of the
skirt around his hand and tie it off. “For now. We’ll fix it up
later.”
Ember
watched him with wide, worried eyes. “What are you going to do?”
she asked. “They’ll never let you keep it at the Citadel.”
“They
don’t have to know,” he said defensively, unable to help himself.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with her now, only that he
was never going to let anyone hurt her again. Not if he could help
it. He would figure out something. He’d have to find somewhere
where no one went.
That’s
it.
“The
Citadel used to be a stronghold,” he said. “But then it was
repurposed for the Chronicler’s Guild, but there’s some places
nobody ever uses anymore.”
“The
dungeons,” Rowan said. “You’re right, they’ve been collecting
dust for ages. I think they’d planned on making it into a storage
place at some point, but it got scrapped. Everyone just ignores it
now.”
He
nodded eagerly, and stopped when the dragonling made another, more
irritated whining noise. “I’ll build her a nest. It’ll be like
a cave. I’ll make sure she’d warm, and I’ll visit her every
day. I disappear all the time anyway, they won’t think anything of
it.”
“We’ll
all help,” Ember said.
Alanna
still looked ready to be sick beside her and did not seem all that
pleased about the idea, but at least she wasn’t outright
protesting. And she’d never rat them out besides, she wasn’t like
that.
“How
will you, we, feed her?” Rowan asked.
He
shrugged. “Nobody will notice a little meat going missing from the
kitchens.”
“And
you can hunt now,” Ember pointed out. He nodded but pretended he
hadn’t heard that for his own peace of mind.
“She
won’t eat a
little
meat forever,” Rowan warned, but they were still nodding along.
“But we’ll figure it out. Together. There’s a place near one of
the dry moats that we can sneak in.”
Cassius
beamed, and glanced down at the dragonling. Her eyes were shut, her
breathing soft and steady, but she’d melted in his arms. His chest
began to warm at the sight of her, at his friends’ quick support.
He was going to raise a dragon.
The
dragonling cooed happily in her sleep.
word count:
1,484
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
Donate