Eriu's Wish

Eriu gazed down at the clutch of stone-cold eggs before her. Another failed attempt at motherhood. Craning her serpentine neck, she gently nudged the largest egg with the tip of her snout, searching for any sign of life for the hundredth time. In vain, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself. The impulses triggered by her maternal instincts refused to see the stinking nest of rotting eggs for what they really were: a grave.

Hovering over her nest, Eriu inspected each egg closely, then parted her jaws and blew out a steaming breath, the back of her throat glowing with molten heat. Again and again, she warmed the eggs, hoping beyond hope to summon back the dead encased in their shells, a hardened tomb that not even the sharpest claws could penetrate. Only heat tempered dragon eggs, gave them life and brought them forth into this world of wonder and magic.

But that didn’t mean they all survived. Despite her efforts, the eggs refused to take, the little lives inside long since departed to join the Mothers Who Flew Before. Enraged, Eriu arched her head skyward and unleashed a jettison of white-hot flames, incinerating the tree branches that dared block the midnight sky. Then, emptied and dejected, she curled around her lifeless offspring, laid her head on the edge of the nest, and extended her wing to shield them from the chill of night.

Had dragons been granted the ability to cry, her tears would have drowned the entire vale. But the gods had not seen fit to grant such relief, leaving Eriu's heart heavy with a feeling she couldn’t name. A leadenness in her wings. An ache in her chest like a sharpened claw punching through her scales to the softened flesh beneath. A thousand fangs crunching down on her neck, constricting her throat. Instead, she closed her eyes and huffed a plume of smoke through her nostrils.

Hidden beneath the shade of her wing, Eriu could hear the forest’s lullaby like a distant whisper, the birds and insects cheerfully crooning without care. Crickets chirped in the undergrowth while the trees above gently creaked and crackled with the wind’s kiss. Even the heron’s raspy croak reverberated from the marshes that bordered the eastern edge of Kinelad’s Wood, harmonizing with the nightingales’ rich, fluty voices. None of them saw nor cared for the dragon’s anguish, content to go about their singing.

But on this night, another voice joined the forest’s midnight song, foreign and alarming, jarring the peaceful tune with its shrill wail. Eriu snaked her head out from beneath her wing and listened. In the stillness, she found nothing out of the ordinary. A shrew scuttled through the underbrush, avoiding the fox lurking in the distant cropping of aspens and pine. An owl perched in the trees above, honing in on the very same shrew. And the birds above, hushed momentarily at the strange, urgent cry, resumed their singing once more to fill the silence.

Eriu cocked her head sideways, waiting for the sound to repeat, but heard nothing. Huffing smoke, she laid her head back down, the underbrush crunching beneath her massive head, and closed her eyes once more.

Again, the wail stabbed through the night, growing in urgency, and sent the nightingales careening from their perches. Even the owl abandoned its prey, silently taking off into the blue-black sky. Eriu instantly rose from her post, tuning into the source of the sound. Though unlike any other creature she’d heard within Kinelad’s Wood, she couldn’t mistake the message carried by the high-pitched shriek.

Pausing long enough to seal her children’s grave beneath the earth, Eriu moved towards the direction of the wailing cry. Her silver body snaked lithely through the forest, fast and strikingly silent in spite of her bulk. Her scales glittered in the full moon’s eye, winking back at the twinkling skies overhead where her ancestors stood watch over her and her kin.

As she closed the distance, a peculiar cohesion of sweet and sour wafted up her nostrils, unlike any other scent she’d come across before. Mingling with the resinous musk of pine and cedar came milk and spittle and dirt and piss and excrement and salty tears and…scorched earth. There was no mistaking the latter.

Abandoning all sense of stealth, Eriu shouldered her way through the trees and burst into a pine-circled glade, but the sheer volume of noise hammering her sensitive hearing stunned her instantly. Eriu shook her head and snorted, disoriented, then grit her jaws and pushed forward. Seated in the center of a charred ring of earth, Eriu found her quarry.

The creature's mouth clamped shut as it recognized it was no longer alone, cutting off the ear-splitting wail instantly. Silent for the moment, it blinked past its tears and gawked back at the dragon dumbfounded, a mixture of terror, confusion, and hope scrawled across its tiny, fleshy face.

Whatever it was, Eriu had never seen its like in Kinelad's Wood before, nor would she have expected to. The small, pudgy creature seated before her seemed ill-suited for life in the forest. In place of armored scales or course fur, it had only soft, pinkish flesh crowned with a mop of dainty, brown curls. Clumsy hands grasped at the hem of its tattered rags, lacking claws or talons or any natural defenses for that matter. And when it opened its maw, Eriu found nothing but a hodgepodge of tiny, white teeth poking through swollen gums.

Yet Eriu remained wary, her senses on high alert as she flicked her gaze to the charred ring surrounding the creature. The scorching appeared fresh, a few blades of grass still glowing like tiny torches. But Eriu sensed no trace of her kin nearby, no twinge in the mental link she shared with the other dragons inhabiting the vale, nor sign of any other creature, Fae or otherwise, that might have started the blaze. Even the sky above was cloudless, no trace of a storm in sight. Just the creature sitting before her, nothing more.

Watching Eriu unblinkingly, the little thing wiped its pudgy, pinkish hand under its dripping nose, then reached out towards her. Though still cautious, the dragon couldn't contain her sense of curiosity. Eriu pressed closer, laying her head down directly in front of it. Eriu sniffed, taking measure of the creature's scent with one, long draw, and caught something that caught her off guard entirely. She breathed in again, deeper still, her breath tugging at the creature's hair and clothes, and startled a giggle from its rosebud lips. As she tried to narrow down the strange yet familiar scent, her senses scattered the moment its tiny palm pressed flat against her scales.

Eriu’s heart seized in her chest. Paralyzed by the gentle touch, the dragon blinked and focused her gaze on the clear, blue pools that regarded her own. Instantly, the dragon felt a rush from deep inside her rise up to meet that simple touch, instinct drawn forth from the cold and lonely shadows of heartache. Confused, the dragon tried to subdue the ache in her chest, but the longing in her soul lashed out, demanded to connect with whatever called it forth from the depths of her loss.

Drawn forth by that simple touch, Eriu's maternal senses roared to life, the connection between them resonating inside her like a crisp, clear note of a long forgotten song. It both comforted and terrified her, the flame that warms and the flame that burns intertwined in a dance of devotion, fear, and love.

Eriu pressed deeper, sensing the magical link opening between them, and dove straight for the source that begged recognition. Locked within this tiny being, she sensed the heart of a thousand dragons, pure magic coursing through her veins on a scale that should have been impossible. She sensed the unending power of the currents of magic that ebbed and flowed through the very earth itself, in every tree and flower and plant, every rock and mountain and river and stream; Wild Magic in its purest form.

Retreating back, Eriu felt the brush of the creature's power fade, but the bond cemented between them burned with the strength of a hundred, thousand suns. Eriu's instincts soared, a comforting warmth blooming from her horns down to her tail. Gently, the dragon rose and scooped up the little thing as carefully as she could. Cupping it in her scaled palm, she drew it closer to her and blew a tender, warming breath over it, ruffling its curls.

Giggling, it stretched its hands towards her nose once again. Eriu lowered her snout once more, eager to oblige its need for touch, then cringed as the beasty boldly plunged its wiggling fingers straight into her nostrils.

The dragon snorted, careful not to jerk her head backwards lest she send her newfound hatchling flying through the air. Instead, she drew her head back slowly and softly shook the hatchling free. The creature giggled, then patted her scaled thumb and rubbed its eyes sleepily. Eriu nuzzled it gently, then closed her claws around it and unfurled her wings.

Gusts of wind battered the pines and underbrush, scattering leaves and branches alike in a whirlwind of debris as the dragon launched skyward. In the wake of her wings, the moon's silver light eagerly flooded through the gaps in the canopy and glinted on the crimson stain leaking out from beneath the bushes that squatted on the edge of scorched ring.

***

"You have no clue what you've gotten yourself into, do you, Ru?"

Eriu flicked open one pale, blue eye and regarded Fig lazily. Though speaking to the dragon, the young dryad's focus remained intent on the hatchling, examining the stones it handed her appraisingly before placing them back in its tiny hand. Eriu's heart warmed at the sight, but she huffed a plume of smoke in response to the dryad's teasing.

"You don't even know what this is, do you?"

Eriu snorted back at her, then dragged her bulk across the sunbaked stones along the riverbank and shifted to a more comfortable position. I know all I need to, the dragon replied, projecting her thoughts into the dryad's mind.

But after three days and nights trapped in a ceaseless cycle of feeding, cleaning, playing, sleeping and containing the hatchling's witless attempts at bringing forth its own demise, Eriu felt she'd barely scratched the surface of understanding. Though she was certain of one thing: she had claimed a hatchling without a doubt. Nothing else required this amount of care and attention.

It was Fig's turn to snort as she juggled a few of the stones. "That so? And if I told you that I know the answer?"

Eriu shifted her curious, pale gaze on the dryad. Her ignorance was not for lack of trying. In truth, she had no time to ponder anything outside of learning its needs and wants, not when every waking moment was devoted to understanding how to care for the strange creature.

And more often than not the lessons seemed slow-going. It took nearly a day to figure out what the creature could eat and only a minute to learn what it could not. Eriu nearly choked on her own meal when the hatchling gagged on the charred venison she'd fed it. Trial and error; that was the essence of motherhood, she supposed.

Fig's help proved invaluable, Eriu couldn't deny that. Though a fickle creature, Fig had taken easily to the hatchling, caring for the hatchling in ways the dragon physically could not. And her support meant she didn't have to figure it out alone.

It doesn't matter, Eriu retorted. I know what it eats, when it sleeps, when it...

"She, you silly scale-for-brains. This youngling's a girl. And quite an inquisitive one at that," she said, setting the hatchling down to continue collecting rocks and sticks. "And she is a human."

Eriu's stomach churned at the word. Impossible. Humans haven't dared return to the vale in two hundred years, not since their defeat during the Shattering of Shells.

Though before her time, Eriu knew the stories well, as did every dragon hatched since the dark times ended. In the years before the Shattering, humans and dragons lived in contention, both striving to uphold their claims over the vale and its bounty. But the longer the humans lived among dragons and Fae, the more they coveted their power, their magic. They even managed to eek out a twisted and deformed power for themselves, their mages summoning dark magic that sucked the essence of life around them to feed its unnatural hunger.

But even that proved insufficient in the end. Driven by greed and a desire to harness Wild Magic for themselves, the human sorcerers turned to the only source they thought possible to fuel their abhorrent schemes: dragon eggs.

In the wake of their greed, nearly an entire generation of dragons lost their lives, stolen from their nests and murdered before they could draw their first breath. Using their black magic, the humans attempted to steal the magic straight from the hatchling's souls, binding it to their own, and thus consume the purest form of magic for themselves. But their efforts were for not, the dragons' sacrificed for nothing but their tormentors' vanity, and so they fled west, abandoning the vale and leaving nothing behind but shattered shells.

For years, the dragons hounded them, pushing them further west as they sought recompense for the loss of so many cherished lives. Wars raged, ravaging the lands and leaving both races diminished until finally the last of the Elduadhi, the Great Mothers, succeeded in driving the humans beyond the Granite Fangs and past the barren lands even dragons refused to fly: the Desolation.

But the devastation wrought in their wake left the vale and those who survived the onslaught wounded and scarred, including many of the Fae.

Fig glanced back at the child as she babbled happily, holding up a stone triumphantly for both to see. When she regarded the dragon once more, Eriu couldn't mistake the anguish twisting the dryad's features. "The sins of those dark times are remembered by more than just the dragons, Ru. We dryads remember, perhaps better than most, what humans and dragons are capable of." She sighed, then tossed the stone she'd been holding. "Dragons are not so forgiving as dryads, Ru. What do you think the Mothers will say when they learn you've claimed a human child?"

Eriu cast her gaze back to the child. She cared little for that question, less so for its answer. Because she knew now how they would react, and none of it favored her or her new child. They would demand she hand it over to meet a fate she refused to consider. To abandon the child now would be akin to burying another nest, and Eriu had no intention of going through that again, consequences be damned.

She is innocent, Eriu said, returning her sullen gaze back to the dryad's. Not only that, she is different! There is power in her, Fig; a kindred spirit that mirrors my own and every other creature of pure magic. Surely the Mothers will see it and recognize she is no mere human?

Fig nodded slowly. With a sigh, she plopped down and leaned against the dragon's warm belly, content to watch the young toddler as she squatted beside the river's edge and began plopping her collection beneath the water's crystal surface. "Wild Magic or not, Ru, it's not the child who poses the greatest threat, but those who'll come after her. There's no way she crossed the Desolation on her own. What happens when her kin come searching for her?"

Smoke trickled from Eriu's mouth and nostrils, her temperature rising as her emotions swirled in a hazardous mixture of flammable gases. She hadn't considered that either, caring little for how the child came to be in Kinelad's Wood. What matters is she's with me now. She's safe; I will see no harm come to her by either dragon or human.

Fig opened her mouth to respond, but swallowed her words as a bellowing roar ruptured the stillness above, echoed by the thunderous flapping of giant wings.

Eriu whipped her head skyward, tasting the air, then rose from her bed of stones. Take the child out of sight. Quickly!

But Fig was already in motion, scooping the child up and vanishing into the tree line before Eriu reached her full height. The silver dragon waited, head raised and wings slightly unfurled as the red male dropped down a few feet down the riverbank. Flapping his wings, he roared, then shook his scales and approached with his head slightly lowered.

Uhlroth, Eriu greeted, nodding her head in acknowledgement. Her gaze dropped down to the red dragon's claws and froze. Is that...

Uhlroth flung the carcass at her feet, then stomped and reared back his head to unleash a jettison of bright flames. Yes, a human, he affirmed, the last word spat with venom and rage. It seems the scourge has finally returned to the vale.

***

Faolan ducked as the dragon bellowed overhead, the gusts of its mighty wings nearly knocking him off his feet. Hidden in the tree line, he was safe for now. The rest of his party, however...

The tracker scanned the area, but found no one else aside from the charred body of Korlas and the lower half of Donnel, the upper half carried off in the dragon's clutches moments before. He could only hope the rest of them had the sense to reach the trees before the beast could get an idea of their numbers, but even that refuge had an expiration. Trees would offer little protection against dragon fire.

The hairs on the back of Faolan's neck stood erect, shivers creeping down his spine as he watched the shrubs around him wilt, the grass at his feet brown, and the insects scuttling through the surrounding forest grow silent. Draped in shadows, Rheveus emerged to stand at his side, his crimson eyes glowing with power as the world around him slowly withered. Faolan swallowed back his disgust and averted his gaze, refusing to look the mage clear in the face.

"It got Donnel," he explained, nodding at the bloody legs sprawled less than ten feet from their hiding place.

The mage simply nodded, the glow in his stare abated as he released whatever dark magic concealed him during the dragon's attack. "Did you find her?"

Faolan nodded curtly. "Dead." He nodded at the clearing. "See that scorch ring? That was here before the dragon. Something sliced her, then scorched half of her."

"And the child?"

The tracker faced Rheveus, stunned by the odd catch in the mage's voice. Desperation? Fear? Hope? Whatever its source, hearing any trace of emotion coming from the mage felt wrong. It made him sound more...human.

"Gone. Dead most likely. If not already, then soon enough."

Rheveus shook his head, his gaze intent on the charred earth. "No, I would have felt it. She's different, special. The things this child can do..." His voice trailed off as he remembered his company. "She's out here. You were paid to find her. Now get to it."

Rheveus retreated back into the trees when Faolan spun on his heel and grabbed his shoulder. Angrily, he stabbed a finger at the sky as the dragon's roar reverberated above, growing distant. "I was paid to track your thief, not hunt down some lost babe in a dragon-infested wilderness. This changes things."

Faolan regretted touching the mage the moment his hand landed on the man's robe, but he'd stretched his neck too far on the chopping block to back out now. Steeling his expression, he met the mage's unnatural stare and returned it with a hardened glare of his own.

Silence fell between them, the world once more withering in Rheveus' presence as the mage drew on his magic. Faolan could see the hate in his blood-red stare, the indecision of whether to obliterate him now. But without Faolan, they'd have never made it past the Desolation, and without him, they wouldn't make it a mile back. It brought a rueful smile to the tracker's face as he watched the mage come to the same realization, withdrawing his power.

"I'll double your fee," Rheveus hissed, shirking off the tracker's touch.

Faolan folded his arms over his chest. "You'll do that and then double it again. Wanna buy myself something nice when this is all over."

A grim smile slid across the mage's face. "Assuming you survive."

Faolan swallowed hard, his resolve fading slightly. "Aye, and for your sake, you better make damn sure I do or none of us are getting out of here alive."

***

Eriu circled the red stones of the Claw once more, debating how much longer she could delay the inevitable storm brewing on the horizon. Arrayed on the cliffs beneath her, hundreds of dragons had already gathered, splayed across their ancestral meeting grounds to hear the dire news.

Gathered on the Claw's central pillar stood the Mothers, spread out on the tiered platform according to rank and age. Seven in total, the Mothers held dominion over all of the lands east of the Granite Fangs, from the icy plains in the north to the swamp lands in the distant south. Each had proven themselves worthy of the mantel of leadership, but none more so than the the golden dragon perched at highest point of the central pillar.

Vekar watched her kin gather with regal authority, her golden scales glittering in the waning light like a beacon summoning all to the Claw. The last of the Elduadhi from the Shadowed Age, the Great Mother had led the dragons during the Shattering of Shells and helped usher in a time of peace following the humans' expulsion from the vale. None had earned the right to lead the dragons more than her, nor would any Mother again come close to achieving the same level of renown.

Glancing down at the small form safely tucked away in her scaled hand, Eriu swallowed down the tide of dread that triggered smoke from her nostrils, the plume changing increasingly from grey to black as her insides churned. Slowly, she descended to her place at the back of the Claw with the other young females who had yet to produce their first clutch. Eriu shoved down a wave of bitterness and landed towards the rear of group, sticking close to the shadowed edge where stone met tree.

A small whine escaped the hatchling's lips, her anxiety rising at the sight and smell of so many dragons nearby. Eriu blew a tender breath over her, ruffling her hair, and closed her claws protectively. Be still, Eriu whispered telepathically, careful to keep her reassurances to the child alone. You are safe with me.

The surrounding dragons quieted as Vekar moved to the edge of her platform and swept her gaze across her gathered kin. Her voice sang through the mental link they shared, melodious and powerful. For centuries, we dragons have lived and thrived in the vale, creating balance in the currents of Wild Magic for dragon and Fae alike. Though many who witnessed the devastation wrought during the Shattering of Shells have since joined the Mothers Who Flew Before, we Mothers have done our best to ensure the generations that follow know and understand the sacrifices that led to the peace we now enjoy. She paused, glancing across to the opposite cliff where Uhlroth waited, his claws nervously clamped around his prize. Now it seems that peace is threatened. It seems humans have once again returned to the vale.

Uhlroth unfurled his claws and cast his bloody evidence down the cliffside, the half-corpse hitting the dirt with a hollow thud. Instantly, the assembly devolved into furious outrage, hundreds of dragons roaring and belching fire into the sky. Eriu tucked her hand closer to her chest, cradling the child and warily examined those around her.

Vekar remained still, watching and waiting until the fury of her kin was bridled once more. Then she spoke. Their numbers are small. Of this we are certain. But their intentions have yet to be discovered.

Intentions? Belora, a green dragon with a black temper and voice amongst the newer generation of Mothers, boomed across the mental link, her claws grinding into the rock. Humans only have one intention: to take what does not belong to them. Their numbers do not matter; allow a few and more will come, like rats spreading their plague across our lands. We must extinguish them immediately and be done with it.

Hundreds of voices murmured in agreement, but Eriu's heart sank deeper into her chest. She knew what they'd come for. She sat snugly between the dragon's claws as she gawked between the gaps in her fingers.

It must be known, Uhlroth began, that these humans have a sorcerer among them. I could smell the taint of their foul magic on the air though it did not reveal itself.

You see? Belora raged. Humans lust for our magic, seeking to take what their gods denied them in the first place. They've come for our eggs once more! And this time, they will not stop.

Belora's tirade continued, growing in violence as she swept up the rest of the dragons in her wake. Hundreds echoed her hatred, calling for blood, but Eriu could sense the underlying current that twisted through the crowd: fear. Fear of the unknown, of old sins rising from their shadowed past, and of loss. The loss of an egg was no small thing, but the loss of hundreds? Thousands even? If anyone understood their fear, their pain...

Eriu opened her hand and peered down at the small face in her grasp, the child's blue eyes soaking in every inch of her, every silver scale, every glint of sparkling twilight that reflected from her body. Suddenly, the child's eyes sparked a lighter shade of blue as the joy in her gaze spread down to her lips. She reached out her tiny, grasping hands towards the dragon and from them swirled tiny, blue lights, like twinkling fireflies dancing from her fingers. Tucked within Eriu's scaled palm, they floated in small circles around the child, glowing brilliantly, their lights glittering across Eriu's scales until they winked out.

No.

The single word thundered across the mental link, slicing through Belora's hateful speech and stunning them all to silence. Eriu glanced up, sweeping her gaze across the Mothers before focusing on Vekar. The Golden One regarded her curiously, then nodded her head, beckoning Eriu to approach.

Humans are not demons to be feared, Eriu began as she awkwardly picked her way through the crowd, walking on three limbs instead of four. They are more than creatures of greed and hate, but love and joy.

Belora snorted derisively, her suspicious gaze noticing Eriu's gait. And how did you gain such wisdom, eggless one?

Eriu ignored the jibe and caught Vekar's golden eye once more. Honored Mother, forgive my boldness, but I speak the truth, for I carry the purest of them in my grasp.

Slowly, Eriu opened her palm and revealed the child, sending telepathic reassurances to her hatchling. Clutching her thumb, the child rose on shaky legs and met the sea of stares that greeted her. Their shock abated, hundreds of angry voices roared in outrage, but none louder than Belora, until Vekar's command thundered through the air.

Silence! she roared, and the crowd quickly obeyed. Vekar turned back to Eriu. Bring this human to me.

Closing her claws once more, Eriu flew up to the platform where the Golden Mother waited and presented the child. She watched nervously as Vekar lowered her massive head level with the hatchling and held her breath as the child boldly touched the Mother's scales before Eriu could stop her. Vekar instantly froze, her body rigid at the touch, then suddenly relaxed as she leaned into the child's touch.

Eriu held her breath, certain that whatever magic passed between them mirrored what she, too, had felt in the glade. Only when Vekar broke contact did she breathe again.

There is Wild Magic in this one, Vekar said, bewildered. How?

I cannot say, Mother, but she is no mere human. Eriu projected her words for all to hear. To kill her would make us akin to the humans who killed our young, but to return her would grant our old foe access to that which they have coveted for centuries. She is kindred; the same power we pride ourselves with flows through her veins, and for that, I claim her as my own.

Abomination! Belora rumbled, shaking the rocks beneath her as she stomped her feet. You mock the very title you covet with this farce! Vekar, you must cast her out! Kill the child, leave it to its fate; it matters not, but I will not suffer it to live among my children nor any other dragon in the vale.

Vekar lowered her head, her eyes swimming with despair as she regarded the child. I'm sorry, Eriu, but Belora is right. This human is a threat to us all. She cannot remain in the vale.

Eriu raised her head defiantly and clutched her hand closer to her chest, guarding the child. I will not abandon her.

You would choose this human over your own kind? Raise her as your own?

It is my wish, Golden One.

Vekar squared her shoulders and rose to her full height. Then see it granted, Silver One. But know this: you are banished from the vale so long as you cling to your wish.