Born in Lava

“No!” she screamed. “I don’t want to!”

Her sire turned back towards her, his wings and his nostrils flaring with his temper. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. I’m not going to!”

He snorted heavily and muttered under his breath. “Lord of Flames, grant me the patience of the Sun.” Then, back to her, “Why ever not?”

“I kind of like the little thing,” she admitted. “I don’t want to eat it.”

He stared at her. He had half expected she would object, but was surprised she would actually voice the objection.

“What did you think it was for?” he asked finally. “Did you think it was a pet?”

She said nothing, but stared at him in sullen silence.

The obvious pout on his daughter’s face enraged him. “This is why we harvest them. This is why they exist! They are food. They are Born of Earth. We are Born in Lava. The fire runs in your veins as truly as it does in mine. And fire consumes. This is the natural order of things!”

Still she faced him down in silence.

“You have eaten this meat before,” he reminded her in a growl. “Many times! And I know you are hungry. Would you rather sleep without a meal?”

The problem was, she was hungry. She could feel the hollowness in her abdomen. But she was strong; she could control it.

“Maybe I’ll just eat something else, then,” she retorted.

He laughed then, a harsh laugh with clouds of smoke streaming between his teeth. “Like what?”

“A tree.”

“Really. A tree? You’re going to peel bark strips?”

“The leaves. And grass, maybe. Other animals do it. Why can’t we?”

He exhaled so hard a jet of flame trickled about his lips. He hastily drew back; much as he might like to at the moment, he couldn’t flame his own offspring.

“Because they are animals, and we are not! I needn’t remind you that my ancestors and yours came from the Sun itself. This cool green land is good for many things, but you and I, my dear, incubate within an inferno. For a thousand years, our generations have been rocked by magma and hatched in the heart of the mountain. We are born in the heat that others cannot tolerate. You are Born in Lava and Lava is in your heart. That’s what makes us rulers of this land. None dispute it! And that is why you cannot eat leaves and sticks like some common animal!”

“But...Lava erupts, and goes wherever it wants. Why can’t I do whatever I want?”

He turned away and held himself deliberately still. Even the Sun wouldn’t have the patience for this conversation.

He blamed his queen, the girl’s dam. She had been so overjoyed at finally having a daughter, she had let the girl get away with far more than their male clutches. Their drake hatchlings had been proud, but obedient. This, the single queen from their last clutch, was wild in every sense of the word.

A shame the dam wasn’t here now, to deal with this tantrum. Why must it fall to him, the sire, to make the girl see reason?

He finally tucked his wings and turned back to her.

“We have awaited this day for a long time.” He lowered his tone, hoping that solemnity would impress her more than temper. “Your first solo kill is a milestone, watched over by the ancestors Beyond. A thousand years of tradition brought you to this moment.” He stepped closer, touched his wingtip lightly to hers. “Remember that you are Born in Lava. I trust you to do the right thing.”

And he left, but not before muttering “Fledglings” under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

She turned away from the door and walked to the cage at the back of the room.

The naked monkey thing kneeled there, gazing up at her.

Impossible to read its expression, or understand the high pitched syllables issuing from its mouth. One sound seemed to repeat, over and over again.

“Dragon...”

She blew gently, non-flaming, over it.

“Hello little man-man,” she crooned. It had no name, of course. She had not been that foolish, to name it aloud. But deep in her heart, she knew what its--his--name was. The name she had chosen, had called him to herself, echoed in her mind.

Her sire was right. Why did she think she could eat grass and leaves? She had eaten meat from creatures like this her whole life.

On the other wing, she could free him. Fire flowed through her veins. Lava did what it willed, and no one could control it. She could let him go, tell her sire otherwise, and no one would be the wiser. Why should she follow convention?

It would not be the obedient thing, the proper thing to do.

It would sure be fun, though.

A thousand years of tradition weighed on her scaled shoulders.

She reached out and unlatched the cage with one slender claw, prepared to do what she had to do.

She was, after all, Born in Lava.