I Am My Own

When the hatchery called for more hunters, Marshasp was one of the first to help. His hatchling was ravenous and seemed to eat twice its weight every day. Its hunger was bottomless—perhaps mirroring his own—and hunting was difficult. Marshasp could use blood magic, but it was getting weaker; only his green magic was reliable at this point, and that meant getting close. Both he and the hatchling were too frail to hunt large game on their own. Hunting alongside other Riders was another matter, though it came with its own troubles.

On this odd island, the dragons and Riders existed in something like a harmony. Harming one another was forbidden, at least, and Riders and dragons alike were eager to meet new hatchlings. Aurelia’s hatchery was a hub of activity, even for people with no interest in new eggs. It was in the center of the island, high above sea level, overlooking the village below. It was in a strategic spot, and something well protected during any raid on the island. Not that he had seen any, or had any reason to expect them. Other creatures were odd in their intent to kill members of their own kind. Even a place that seemed idyllic on its surface still had Riders cursing a militia, or a slave trade, or the politics that made their island vulnerable. And still, the dragons were eager to bond with them. Even ferals formed a friendship. Were the creatures of this realm foolish? Is that why his hatchling was so quick to arrive?

As they waited among a group of hunters to set off, the little hatchling hissed its offense. I chose you because I chose you. I wanted you.

“Stop that,” Marshasp hissed back.

I’ll talk to you this way however I like. The dragon growled and dragged its tail against its body to rattle its scales. The other Riders looked towards them, but a familiar face was the one to step forward.

“I told you to get that dragon under control,” Iapetus grumbled.

The hatchling—who was big enough to be confused for an adult at this point—lowered his crown and huffed at Iapetus. “I’m perfectly under control.”

Beside the Tsotska, the same kirin from before stepped forward and brandished his own antlers. “What do you think you’re doing on Tsotska d’la Mer, then? Our teeth and horns are for prey, not for residents of—“

“Alright, help me, then,” Marshasp interrupted. Iapetus stretched his lizard lips into something like a smile, but it didn’t hold for long. “I know I’m a bad Rider, and the dragon just gets more uncontrollable every day. Sever the bond, and maybe the dragon will find someone more suitable. Is that something you can do?”

You aren’t a bad Rider, the hatchling whispered. You’re my Rider. The thought of severing the connection had fluttered through both of their minds many times. Was it possible? Would the hatchling be better off that way? It protested each time the topic came up, but they both knew it had no better information than Marshasp did. It wasn’t even a month out of the egg. What could it know about the world?

Iapetus looked between one and another, mouth agape. “You wouldn’t—you—excuse me?”

“The bond has to be some sort of mistake. Every day it gets bigger and angrier with me. If it wants me as its Rider, it’s only because it’s young and doesn’t know better. So, sever the bond, let the dragon go free, and then he can find his own Rider properly…if he wants one at all.”

When his companion had nothing to say, Menoetius broke the silence. “Is that true, little one?” The hatchling was heavier than him at this point, but that didn’t stop Menoetius from calling him small. “Do you want to sever the bond?”

It shook its head fervently. “Of course not. This is my Rider. I chose him because I wanted him, and no one else.”

Iapetus gazed at the dragon thoughtfully. “How long did you wait for him? Years, or…?”

“Not long,” the dragon replied. “I was the first of my clutch to hatch, and my sire was always close. Why would such a thing matter? He is mine.”

“Not long, indeed. Forget I asked.” He patted Menoetius on the neck and the two exchanged glances. Marshasp could tell they were running through their options. Could Iapetus actually help? He felt his excitement grow even as the hatchling sent a firm disapproval through their bond. At last, the lizard nodded. “I’ll help the little dragon with his Rider. It seems you know nothing about your bond, so let’s start with that.”