My Den Mother

Growing up, my den mother was the strongest dragon in the world.

And I felt like I was the luckiest hatchling alive to have her as my closest friend and mentor.

When the world was confusing for a new life like me, she was there.

When her mate was gone and unreliable to help, she was there.

When other dens ensued chaos, she was there to keep the peace.

She was the tenacious dragon that kept our family together, while doing the necessary to keep us alive. The most powerful creature on the planet, burdened by everything I could imagine at a young age, while still smiling with glowing hot fire in her belly. And still not a creature to be tempered with. Her heart was the hoarded gold around her hardened scales.

As I got older, I wanted to become just like my den mother: strong, independent, positive. Always with a fire; a fire that was the brightest light for all around.

She showed me the world when I was old enough to fly with her, and I took every single word of hers as the wisest lessons of all. I used her teachings to flesh out the kind of dragon I wanted to become. A dragon just like her. One who knew all, saw all, loved all. And most of all, was strong.

She was there for all of my first trials as a hatchling: The trial to fly on my own from the den, the trial to seek a new den for myself when I grew too large, and the several trials of finding my true mate.

She was there for everything.

She was my everything.

My den mother was my best friend and inspiration.

I learned everything I needed to learn about the world of dragons from her. How to hunt, clean your scales, dissect knowledge from the history of old, befriend other hatchlings; everything I needed to survive.

Then, upon hitting my adult years as a dragon of my own making, something happened. One day, I realized the magic over my eyes dissipated when I looked at my den mother. And I saw a completely different dragon.

Such is the way of things when you live on your own in the world, and you change from the magic of new experiences that clash with perceptions of old.

I had seen more of the world’s wonders with my own wings. Its abundance and joyous offerings. I even saw a universe helping me grow, with a brighter fire in my soul than I ever could have dreamed of.

But with this, I realized I no longer live in the world I was raised in as a hatchling. I’m no longer in the world my den mother sees. The magic around me changed.

And that’s when I saw a different den mother. One so hurt by the world, that her own fire had been dimly lit all these years. One who struggled so much on her own, yet still held so much love, she could not blame her mate for what he’d done. One whose fire could be much brighter and free.

I realized my den mother, who was the fiery beacon in my past, is now but a scuttling flame in the present wind, desperate for life.

The pain of this realization is unbearable. But then, one of her most profound teachings comes to mind: There is always a light in someone. And it only takes a little help to show them how to ignite it.

And so sparked a plan.

Because for all the things my den mother did for me—igniting my light in me, however faulty it may have started with her own influenced misconceptions—I could do something for her now. And while my den mother is not the perfect dragon, she was still my mighty inspiration, and I want to return the favor.

Den mother, we may be different dragons now, but I still love you. You were there for me, and I learned so much from you. Your teachings and views of the world were the fuel to my fire as I grew. That fire may have just grown a different way than you expected, but it’s still a growth where I can own my true power.

And I hope, one day, my true power will be an inspiration to you too, just as you were to me all those years prior.

I hope, one day, you can be the almighty dragon I knew as a hatchling, but with your own fire unleashed from your core. No restraints. The real dragon you’re meant to be.

I hope, one day, we can fly the skies together with our power owned.

.

Mom. You were the first to spark a light in me, and always will be. I hope I can spark a light in you, too.

Word count: 786 | For the ViM challenge below: