Libelle

"It takes a village to raise a child". That's how the saying goes. But apparently not every village is so kind: especially if a child is different.

This is what was running through the mind of Lockheed Scrubb as he stood in the trees a few feet from the clearing, watching a group of women carefully creep away from a toddler sleeping at the base of a treestump. To him she looked like a perfectly ordinary little girl, but the one thing he knew about humans was that difference is what scares them away. So, therefore, this girl they were abandoning must be different..."a threat".

Shifting one of his front legs forward, careful to stay in shadow, he peered out at the women, trying to pick out the child's mother. To see if one of them was crying or glancing guiltily back over her shoulder more times than the rest, or if there was one that the other women had to usher away, convince not to stay. But they all walked calmly back up the path, the biggest concern of each seeming to be that the child did not wake before they were gone. Lockheed debated ruining this plan: stomping his feet to break branches on the ground, or unfurling his wings and sending a gust of wind her way. But he feared that would only make the women run and the child more scared. Or if she did catch up, that they would come up with a crueller plan to be rid of her than a clearing they believed to be the favoured gathering spot of wolves. So he simply watched, and stood guard over the girl, and thought how best to convince the others of his plan when they arrived. The girl shifted in her sleep, and her cloak fell away from where it covered her arm. His scaled face formed into a smile that if you did not know dragons you would think was menacing. So that was her difference. Perhaps convincing the others to raise a human child would not be so difficult after all.

***

One by one the dragons of the high council filtered into the clearing, each new additon shushed by those that had arrived before them, anxious not to wake the still-sleeping child. She had rolled over now and her arm was once again hidden, but Lockheed had told others what he had seen. Only some believed him, but all felt it was important to see the proof, and if if the girl was startled into running away they may lose their chance. The forest was at its most dangerous at dusk, when the dragons met.

The last to arrive was the oldest among them, gently assisted by 3 generations of his descendants. As he settled onto the ground by a large oak tree, Lockheed stepped forward in front of the girl and faced the crowd. He spoke as loud as he dared, determined not to wake she whom he now considered his charge.

"My friends. I know it is not our way to interfere in human affairs, and I understand that you are cautious to believe on blind faith when I quote legend to justify doing so."

He paused, looking back as the young child stirred. Her arm stayed covered by the cloak, so he turned away and continued.

"But I would not quote such a legend lightly. I truly believe this child will grow up to be The Dragon Witch."

A shocked murmur ran around the clearing, and Lockheed spoke louder to be heard over it.

"She bears the mark that was foretold! And has she not been condemned by her own? If this is truly the child, then surely it was destiny that led me to be by this clearing when she was left behind!"

Nithe, the grandson of the Elder, spoke up.

"This is only if she is what you say. If she is not, and we are revealed to her, then you know she can never go back to live in society. If you are wrong, you will have doomed her to go through life without any of her own kind. We all know what occured the last time someone thought they had found the Witch."

Mumbled agreement was heard throughout the clearing. All knew the tale: a young man, with markings on his arm, had been revealed the flight of dragons. The marks had turned out to be from an injury, and he had turned away in horror from the offer of a home among them, and had made an attempt to return to his village. The dragons had begged him not to leave, but he had insisted, and had perished almost as soon as he stepped away. He lay under one of their most sacred trees, a landmark to remind them that the next time, they must be certain. Lockheed nodded. He had considered this even before he had seen the mark.

"Do you see this small and frail form surviving without our help? If we simply leave, she will soon be consumed by a wild creature, or perish from hunger and thirst. If any is likely to accept a home amongst us, it is a child so young they do not yet know the ways of humanity. One cast out by those meant to care for them. Even if I am wrong, we have not doomed her to a life worse than what lies ahead."

As the flight began to utter their agreement, the Elder dragon spoke.

"Besides, it seems the child has made our choice for us."

Lockheed turned quickly to see the young girl, eyes wide, blinking herself awake and looking around the dimly lit circle. He made as gentle of an expression as he was able, lay down and bowed his head, offering it to her. She slowly reached out an arm, revealing the markings he had seen, and expressions of delight suddenly rang loud through the forest. She snatched her arm back, curling up to hide entirely under her cloak, and Lockheed turned his head to glare his companions into silence. He placed his head on the ground in front of her, and spoke as softly human as he could.

"Hello, little one. We mean you no harm."

The cloak wiggled, and a little face peered out a small gap that she created.

"You were loud."

He chuckled gently. "Yes, I suppose we were."

The little eyes narrowed, and Lockheed realised for the first time quite how young this child was: she did not yet know much of human speech.

"We were happy. We like you," he said, trying to keep his words simple and his sentences short. "We like the pretty scales on your arm."

At this the gap disappeared and the blanket said "You don't. They make people angry."

"Look at us. Do we look like people?"

The little gap reappeared, and then the child slowly sat up, looking at Lockheed intently. She reached out her other arm and tapped his nose. Then she giggled - or at least, Lockheed thought that's what it was.

"No. You look like... a cow. With scales. And wings."

He couldn't help but laugh, which made her shake her head and cross her arms in front of her face.

"Smelly cow."

"We are called dragons," said the Elder, as he lay down beside Lockheed.

The little girl looked around, as if she was only just realising there was many of them around. She tried out the new word. "Drag-gons."

"Put your arm next to my foot and look," said Lockheed. She did as he said, then ran a tiny hand over one of his clawed toes, then over her own patch of scales.

"Like mine."

Lockheed smiled, and instead of looking scared, the child smiled back.

"Yes," he said. "Just like yours."

"Well, Lockheed Scrubb, it seems that both destiny and the child herself have chosen you for this task. You will raise she who will reveal dragons to mankind."

Lockheed bowed his head to the Elder. This was an honour, a privelege - and a massive responsibility, but one he was more than willing to take on. He turned back to the little girl.

"What is your name, small one?"

Her wide eyes looked up at him from where she still sat running her tiny hand over first his toe and then her arm, over and over again as though to convince herself it was real.

"Libelle."