A Mother's Love

The forest always felt like magic in the morning.

The early breeze caressed Dalinda's scales and kissed her nostrils awake. She blinked to see the morning sun streaming through the trees and trickling down onto the floor of her den.

She got up on all fours, stretching each limb, before lurching out into the woods. Her wings tucked back, held tight by the cord wrapped around them.

Each morning she tried to free them, but never once would the cord snap.

A roar rippled through the trees. Most days the only sound beyond the wind was the distant rumble of a grizzly bear or a fight for territory between two dragons. This war cry was closer than Dalinda felt comfortable with.

Was there a grizzly hunting in her territory? She needed to find it, before it became a problem and scared all of her prey away.

Heading toward the sound, Dalinda kept low. She was big, bigger than most, but nimble. She crept through the trees, remaining unseen as she headed towards The Tower.

Above, she saw them. The Watchers. High in The Tower they stood, looming over Dalinda in the Conservation. Dalinda peered just above the treeline, her body hidden amongst the thick foliage.

She came here often. Unlike most of the other dragons in the Conservation, she was curious about the Watchers. Why were they here? What did they want from us? Why did they trap us here?

One of the Watcher's hatchlings poked out between the legs of a grown one. She recognized this particular hatchling. It visited often, curious, much like Dalinda was. The hatchling's eyes caught Dalinda's and it frantically pointed and shouted, trying to get the attention of a parent.

When the hatchling's request was not granted, it became agitated, more and more. Shouting. Jumping. Hanging from the bar that was separating The Watchers high above from the dragons and wildlife below.

And then suddenly,

it

fell.

Across the clearing, a grizzly emerged from the trees running towards the small limp body. Shouts and screams came from above. Many Watchers held small devices and placed them in front of their faces. Dalinda guessed they were covering their eyes so they wouldn't have to see the gruesome scene before them unfold.

In her mind, Dalinda saw flashes of blood and gasping breaths. Its tiny body torn to shreds like crimson ribbons before her.

A roar from the bear forced the hatchling's eyes open. It laid frozen on the ground, not even a scream from its lips.

Dalinda knew she had to do something. The poor creature would be lost without her in the Conservation. Or it would be dead in seconds at the unforgiving claws of the bear. Dalinda slithered her way out into the clearing and in front of the hatchling. Gasps erupted from above as flashes blinded her. She bellowed a roar towards the Watchers before facing the bear, forcing it to retreat.

"Mommy!" she heard a cry from behind her.

"Rylie! Baby! You're gonna be okay!" Dalinda heard from above.

A female Watcher was reaching down, Dalinda recognized it as the mother. She was too high up, even if Dalinda fully extended her neck, the hatchling would never reach.

A sliding door opened in the Tower as two guards emerged. These were different from the Watchers. When they appeared, it was always with a vengeance.

Their hands carried heavy metal weapons. Dalinda recognized them, long and heavy. She'd heard stories about them from other dragons, witnesses to their carnage from afar. For if they were used, only death would come. She couldn't let these guards use it on the hatchling.

Dalinda roared and thrashed her tail at the guards, pushing them off balance. She held the hatchling behind her, keeping it out of range of the weapon's point.

"Don't hurt him! My baby! Please, don't shoot!" the mother shouted above. She was frantic, wailing, and Dalinda's heart raced as she scoured the trees, looking for a place to escape. The guards lowered their weapons at the mother's pleas, hesitating.

This was her chance.

Smoke flooded from Dalinda's nostrils as she picked up the hatchling from the ground and placed it on her back. She could not fly, but there was plenty of room for it to sit.

The guards would be left with no choice but to leave. Entering a dragon's territory was too dangerous for them. From above in The Tower, the Watcher's could witness the dragon's lives from a distance, but to enter a dragon's home meant war. Even they knew better to respect that unspoken rule.

And this part of the forest was Dalinda's domain.

Once Dalinda slipped in through the trees, she would be free. Behind her, the mother's scream echoed through the forest.

The hatchling, who had been too stunned to speak before, released a sob as soon as Dalinda placed it onto the floor of her den. It was frightened, she knew, but no matter what Dalinda tried, it went on. She curled her tail around its tiny body, nuzzling her face towards the hatchling's cheek. But to no avail. The wet tears continued to trickle like rain down its ruby red cheeks.

Dalinda searched her den for something that might distract the hatchling. Her eyes glazed across the dark cavern. Her belongings were few, but to her, they were everything.

Her eyes settled upon a glowing rock on the ledge above. It was a deep green, and smooth, reflecting the light that pooled to the floor from above. Upon noticing it, the hatchling quieted, and extended its tiny un-clawed hands. Dalinda dropped the stone into its palm, a small giggle escaped its mouth. Before long, the hatchling placed the stone in its mouth before spitting it back out onto the dirt.

Disgusting, Dalinda thought. At the same time she felt endearment towards the creature. It was helpless. Fascinating. Dragon hatchlings emerged with almost all sense required to survive. Her children did not need a parent the way this hatchling did.

Feeling needed was something Dalinda hadn't felt in a long time, and it was... nice. The life of a dragon was solitary, mainly spent in the den or hunting around the forest. She only saw other dragons when they met during each full moon in the clearing of the forest.

They stayed like this for hours. The hatchling babbling and playing with the trinkets in the den while Dalinda watched in awe. Above them, the sky turned to pinks and purples as they sun fell down the horizon. The den dark and peaceful. The soft gleam of the stone the only source of light within, still held tight in the hatchling's tiny hands.

With a yawn, it settled in the nest Dalinda created for it. Its chest rose and fell rhythmically with the softness of sleep. Dalinda could see clearly now, the outcome of the fall. One arm was scratched, and a gash down the side of its face would scar, but it wouldn't die. And that was the most important thing in that moment to her.

Dalinda curled her body around the hatchling as it slept, and she too found peace for the evening.

***

Dalinda awoke the next morning to screams.

The hatchling wailed, harder than it had the day before, its face swollen and red.

"Mommy! Mommy!" it cried over and over again.

Dalinda felt a surge of panic within her. She had to calm the screams of this creature before it awoke everything in the forest.

She curled the hatchling in closer, cooing and rubbing her cheek against its. She felt a maternal pride in the quelling of its sobs. The cheeks of the hatchling wet and plump like ripe plums.

Outside the den, a rabbit sprinted through the grass and across the mouth of the cavern.

"Bunny!" the hatchling shouted, pointing. Its laughter echoed up the den and out through the top.

It was forbidden by Dragon Law to speak to the Watchers. But seeing as this hatchling might be here to stay, Dalinda wanted to risk it. This hatchling was different than the Watchers. The others feared dragons, and if they knew dragons could speak to them, who know what kind of horrors would be unleashed on their population?

But Dalinda made a choice. She wanted to speak to it.

"Little one," she cooed to the hatchling. It looked up to her, eyes wide. She was afraid it would begin to wail again, but it stayed silent.

"WHAT IS THAT DOING HERE?" a booming voice echoed from the mouth of the cavern. Dextrius stood strong inside the opening, his wide shoulders barely allowed him through the entrance.

"Please, Dextrius, you don't understand," Dalinda said. "It's hurt."

Dextrius shook his head, "I knew I heard a Watcher hatchling's wails. I had to see it for myself."

"It needs me," she explained.

"No," Dextrius stopped her. Dalinda could not disobey anything Dextrius demanded. He, being the oldest dragon in the Conservatory, was deemed leader of their clan within the walls of the forest. Though they were free to live alone amongst the forest, what Dextrius said was law.

"This hatchling needs to be returned to the Watchers," he said. "Here, it will starve. And we all will be punished."

Dalinda had a retort, but it stuck in her throat. She wanted to explain how she felt. How this hatchling was different from the other Watchers. How when it looked at her, she felt seen. Needed. Loved.

"They've already brought the flashers to The Tower," Dextrius continued. "There are five times more of them than there were yesterday. This is getting out of hand. Quickly. Now, either you return the hatchling, or I will." He flashed a claw, sharpened like a dagger in front of him. Dalinda winced, thinking of it severing the pink flesh on the hatchling's body.

Dalinda closed her eyes and bowed her head. It was to be done. And she needed to do it, or know that Dextrius would kill the hatchling instead. She would lose it.

The hatchling quivered as Dextrius left her den. The tears welled up in its eyes, about to boil over. Dalinda pulled it closer and it curled up near her warm belly.

A memory flashed in her eyes. This was a familiar feeling. One that she had not felt for many years. Her own child curled up against her belly, the soft snores of sleep.

That was before the Watchers came. Before they pulled dragons out of their homes, forcing them into enclosed forests. Before her wings were pulled tight and tied. And before the tracker was embedded deep underneath her skin.

It was true, the life of a dragon ever since the Watchers discovered them was different. Changed. A shadow of the lives they led before.

They used to live in peace. A small population of them huddled, safe, their own paradise on the dotted islands. Where the winds were strong, taking their wings up through the current, the rush of the salty air in her nostrils.

Dalinda's son, Xerlinth, an emerald green dragon, the same as his mother, soared through the air. The deafening sound of wind whirring over their ears.

"Keep up, mom!" he cried, spinning and lurching ahead.

She laughed, "Who knew that at only a few weeks old, my son would out-fly me?"

It was Dalinda who saw the Watchers first. She beckoned for her son to leave, fly off in the opposite direction. But for Xerlinth, curiosity was stronger than any instinct. He drew himself down closer and closer, until they snatched him straight out of the sky.

They bound him, tied ropes to his horns, his claws, he was helpless. His squeals and screams, whimpers for his mother. They muzzled him so no flame would escape his throat-- and no plea for help could be heard. Dalinda dove down in horror, shouting profanities and curses at them. But it didn't matter. They shot her down, broke her wings, and caged her.

Now she was here. Deep in a fabricated forest where life no longer had meaning. No longer had purpose. Her son, taken, never to be seen again.

And now she would lose this hatchling.

An ache bubbled in Dalinda's chest. She saw in its eyes the same look as her son. The longing for home, for its mother. She knew she had to give it back, but didn't realize how much it would hurt.

"Let's take you home," she murmured, bending down gently before it.

The hatchling clumsily climbed atop her head, and clung to her horns. Inside her, a heaviness grew within her chest. A dark cloud that filled up each crevice inside her with each breath. Though she knew each rock, each tree, each blade of grass, Dalinda took her time, savoring each moment with the tiny hatchling.

She saw the Tower up ahead. Reaching for the top, the hatchling called out to its mother. The sound of its voice ringing in Dalinda's chest, 'It doesn't want me. No one wants me. Not anymore.'

Dalinda stood below the opening and stretched her neck to reach towards the Watcher's searching hands. Sudden bright white flashes encompassed her vision, blinding her. She blinked quickly as her body swayed, losing her footing. Her vision splotchy and uneasy. She could not see the trees, or the grass, her head spun.

Her legs gave out beneath her as she lowered the hatchling to the ground, falling to her side. The world felt upside down as her head spun in whirls of colors and flashes of white.

"Stop!" the hatchling screamed to the Watchers. Stunned, they removed their flashers and the bright lights stopped.

Dalinda blinked again as her vision slowly returned. She gave the hatchling an affectionate nuzzle before allowing it to sit on her head again. She reached towards the Watchers, but even with all her might, she could not reach the top of the enclosure.

'If I could just use my wings', she thought.

Hovering high enough would allow safe passage, but her wings were bound against her back. She wasn't sure if after so many years she'd be able to use them at all. The muscles would be tired and weak. The bones brittle. But she needed to try.

With determination she pumped her wings.

The Watchers yelped in shock, screams erupted from the crowd, but Dalinda didn't care. She knew this hatchling needed to be returned. She pushed, harder and harder, the bones in her wings resisting each movement.

Snap!

The wires that held her wings broke, and Dalinda outstretched her wings fully for the first time in what seemed like centuries. Rejuvenated with new confidence, she pumped her wings and held the hatchling out to its mother, her arms reaching across the opening.

The crowd cheered as it was placed on the ground. Dalinda felt the soft grass return beneath her claws. She'd had a taste of freedom again, and if she wanted, she could fly. Out of the conservation. But she wouldn't. The world was not the place it once was for dragons. She would wind up in another Conservation, or worse, skinned for her scales.

No, staying was not right, but it was safe.

Before the crowd dispersed she saw one tiny face look back at her. The hatchling stood at the edge of the railing, reaching out a hand to her. Its eyes showed gratitude, and longing. The mother looked over at Dalinda, an unspoken bond created between the both of them. Though neither could describe what it meant.

Dalinda took the trek back to her den slower than she ever had. She didn't want to sit in her cavern alone again. It seemed bigger and darker than it had the day before. A hatchling sized hole that was in her heart, unable to be filled.

***

Years passed, and Dalinda's body deteriorated. Before the Watchers, dragons lived for centuries. Now, in captivity, they were lucky to reach even one hundred years.

Dalinda was nearing the end, she was approaching 110 years, but it felt like 1,000. Her bones creaked with each movement, the wings she had once freed now rested by choice along her back. She would not fly. Breaking the bonds had disfigured the cartilage within them. She was sure they would never be able to carry her again.

It was a bright Spring morning. Again, golden rays strewn across the forest floor, painting leaves among the detritus. The sweet scent of the flowers was carried into her den with a warm breeze.

She stopped by The Tower almost daily, now. The Watchers liked to see her since her time with the hatchling. They pointed and clapped each time she made an appearance near the forest edge. They no longer used flashers, much to every dragon's relief.

Today there was no one in The Tower, so Dalinda curled up on a nearby rock to sleep. The sun warmed it, and healed her aching bones.

A whistle caused her to perk up from the soft nap she was taking. A Watcher stood tall, leaning against the railing. It beckoned to her.

Curious, Dalinda slowly stalked her way towards it. She waited a fair distance away to see three Watchers above. They looked friendly, and happy to see her. Dalinda moved closer, and caught a look in the eye of the Watcher on the right.

She recognized the blue eyes of her hatchling immediately. Though, it was hard to find resemblance other than the dark hair and light eyes. It was grown now, older. Had it really been so long since they had met?

Now, her hatchling stood before her with a mate, and a hatchling of its own.

Dalinda's heart grew upon seeing it. She had longed for her hatchling to return since she last saw it. But it never did.

In the outstretched hand of her hatchling was the glowing rock from all those years ago. Still emitting a soft light, even against the sun's rays.

"Thank you," it said to her.

The hatchling threw the glowing stone to the ground, landing softly amongst the weeds. It smiled to her, as its own hatchling squealed with delight. Holding her gaze, they waved goodbye.

Dalinda bowed her head before returning to her den. She curled up next to the glowing stone, the familiar light welcome in the dank cavern. She'd grown tired after all these years. Loneliness covered her like a thick blanket of snow.

She'd longed for a sense of comfort and familiarity. But for so long the world kept her from it.

Death for Dalinda was peace. And peace came to her like a welcome friend and the outstretched hand of her hatchling.