Attachment
Aurelia’s hatchery was as busy as ever. Her stock seemed lower than usual, but people were coming and going all the same. Several Riders—Knights from the Erré Coalition, Marshasp was told—were posted at the cliffside entrance. They had pulled a bench between them and were shouting over a card game. Silvence and plates of food were scattered at the edges of the bench. The meals were simple, something undoubtedly scraped up by Aurelia, but they looked hearty all the same. He hadn’t eaten in a while. Firefall glanced at Marshasp and let out a low rumble. “I’m hungry. We’ll hunt tonight.”
Beside him, Prospero spoke just louder than a whisper. “They let a carnivore like you just waltz around and pick them off?”
Marshasp sighed. “No. I’ve only been eating deer lately. You and everyone else here are safe.” Part of him wanted to joke about Prop testing his patience, but another part knew it wouldn’t be received well.
The man relaxed at the statement. “I was told you ate people. That you needed to.”
“Only for magic, it seems.” Was it wise to let it slip that his magic was weaker now? Yes, probably. Firefall would protect him if things took a turn for the worse. The dragon followed the thought and held his head up proudly as they passed into the main display. In any case, he was always hungry; He missed the meals Prospero could cook. “I have nothing for you to cook with, so I’m fixing that. A dragon named Menoetius passes through with fruits and meat whenever his Rider has a surplus. We’ll ask his Rider for some cooking supplies; He’ll sell at a low price, since I help him with work every now and then.”
“Work?”
“He’s a breeder, and I take in older eggs. He can’t have them sitting around forever, since he doesn’t have a hatchery of his own. Or—maybe she. They change their gender around a lot. I don’t know what to call them sometimes.”
The man nodded and stared at the shelves of eggs. About two dozen were lined up, each with its own little nest. Notes on the side held the lineage, or the origin, or whatever information Aurelia was able to glean from the people that left them. “And why bother taking in eggs at all? They told me you hated dragons as much as humans. Though…that doesn’t make sense. Quetzalcoatl are supposed to be dragons, too. If you don’t need to eat people, then…” He trailed off, seeming to finish the thought in his own mind. This Prospero had a habit of leaving his thoughts half-spoken, with the rest of the details squirreled away in his mind.
Marshasp shrugged. “I was told we are the oldest dragons; the ones closest to the ancestors. The creatures that came after us were just shades of what could be. But—“ Marshasp patted Firefall on the shoulder—“I don’t think my dragon is a shadow. I don’t think any of the dragons here are.” Marshasp started to inspect the eggs. “And these ones will hatch into grand dragons as well, given the chance and the Rider that matches. As long as they’re here, their options are…limited. But an egg can’t exactly travel the world, so this is where they’re watched over.”
Would the poacher know how long an egg could wait for their Rider? Had he abandoned many eggs meant for him before this? Simply being nearby could be enough to attract the attention of a dragon. Did he think the dragons would change their minds so easily once they left his influence? Prospero asked nothing about it. Perhaps he knew. Instead he coughed and changed the topic. “Listen, uh—Marshasp? Let’s just talk to that dragon and get some pots and pans and then I’d like to take a nap finally. I couldn’t exactly sleep on your floor.” There was a twang of nervousness in his voice.
Marshasp couldn’t place it, but Firefall was quick to fill in. “Something here might be his as well. Isn’t he just suited to attracting dragons?” The dragon chuckled at his own words. Marshasp knew bringing him to this place would be enough to pique the interest of any forlorn eggs, but he hadn’t expected a reaction so quickly. “Go on then—figure out which one it is. I want to see him try and break a dragon egg again. The hammer might bounce back and hit him.”
“Please stop thinking about hurting him.” He shot a glare towards his dragon.
“Hard to do that when he nearly killed you. I didn’t kill him because it would cause you to suffer almost as much as that wound. That doesn’t mean I like him. I relish what suffering he gets to endure. May he depart soon, with his dragons in tow.”
“You speak of dragons like a curse.”
“We were a curse to you, at first.” There was a resistance between them, and the feeling of nothingness pushing from Firefall. It was rare for the dragon to hide his thoughts. Marshasp wanted to protest, but he wasn’t wrong. Becoming a dragon Rider wasn’t a pleasant thing at first. “That was the past. Now, go and find his dragon.”
“Speaking in private again? Can we go yet?” Prospero was as agitated as ever.
Marshasp put on his best smile, though he doubted it reached his eyes. “Not yet. There’s something I’m curious about.” He fumbled through the eggs, wondering which one was correct. He didn’t see any reaction. Prospero followed him aimlessly, seemingly disinterested. Every now and then he would take out the lineage book he stole and look through the pedigrees. Marshasp decided to just grab one and thrust it into his hands. “You’re so intent on selling dragon eggs, so tell me—how much is this one worth?”
Prospero’s mouth gaped for a moment, then he shoved the egg back into Marshasp’s hands. “Nothing. In fact, less than worthless. With so many dragons around, they’d kill you if you tried to snag one of these.”
“Fighting between dragons and Riders is forbidden here. They could only really detain you,” Marshasp replied cheerily. This didn’t seem to be the one. He placed the egg back and grabbed another. “This one, then? Let’s say you can get it out of here safely and find a buyer somewhere.”
Aurelia looked up from her desk and papers and silvence counting to send a glare in their direction. She wouldn’t interfere, though—it made Marshasp upset, but if the Rider’s element matched, she would let them whisk whatever they wanted away without a thought to their wellbeing. Even talking about selling them wouldn’t deter her from ‘finding them new homes.’
“It’s a common, so…maybe 300 silvence, if you’re lucky?” Prospero at least pretended to examine this one before shoving it back towards Marshasp. “It’s the same for everything else here. If we have to wait, why don’t we join their game over there?”
No, that wasn’t it either. He grabbed another one, and now Prospero held up his hands, unwilling to hold it. Here it was. “It’s not like dragon eggs will hatch just from touching them. It takes time—a lot of time—before an egg hatches. So, can’t you tell me what element this one is? We’ll go join the game after that.”
Prospero reluctantly reached out to grab the egg. “That’s not something you can tell by looking. All I know is the rarity—the luster, and texture, and stuff like that…” He frowned as he held the egg. His words had retreated again.
A small noise came from the interior of the egg. The pipping grew louder, scratching echoed from inside, and cracks began to form. Prospero quickly tried to give it back to Marshasp, but now it was his turn to avoid picking it back up. “Take it back, would you? It’s hatching, it’s yours.”
He just shook his head. “That’s obviously not the case.”
A tiny hand poked out of the egg, then a snout, then the whole dragon clambered out. It was still wet with whatever mess was inside that thing. Prospero tried to drop it, but it bit down onto his hand and stuck there. It crooned with delight and the spines on its crest flared up. “What is this thing—this stupid thing—shouldn’t it know better—“
Just like that, Aurelia was among them. She inspected the hatchling carefully, paying no mind to Prospero’s frustration. “It hatched quite quickly. It seems you made a good impression. But, well, it is an Earth. They’re not known for their wits. It just grabbed the first person it could, and now it looks a bit…attached.” As if sensing the attention, the dragon bit down harder. Prospero cursed under his breath—cursed both the new dragon and the dragon that watched over the scene with his lips curled into a sharp-toothed grin. The Riders stopped their game, eager to see the dragon hatch; they pointed out its markings, its shape, its elements. They patted him on the back and gave small cheers, some congratulations, and even a few sympathetic words concerning the bite.
Marshasp was glad to see the dragon hatch, but something didn’t sit right with it. The pit of his stomach fell; the new Rider clearly wasn’t happy, and the dragon was too dull to understand that. He was responsible for this matchup—he, who had barely come to terms with his own dragon bonds.
“It will be alright.” Firefall leaned down to nuzzle him. “He is well suited to attracting dragons, after all. There are plenty of reasons, and I’m sure you know at least a few. That little dragon knows some, too.”
But that was the old Prospero—the one he left behind. This was a different man, who stood and desperately tried to shake off the dragon. They were nothing alike. They weren’t supposed to be alike. And yet, here was a dragon Rider.