Status Unknown

Casually chirping away, singing its mating song, the finch filled the forest with lively tunes calling out to others of its kind. Hoping to find a reciprocating female, it danced, shook its feathers, twisted and turned from side to side, flashing its bright yellow colors. The wind shook the treetops, but below the canopy the air was smooth and still. Covered in moss from the early morning shower followed by the mist, the trees and their branches glistened like dark emeralds in the rays that broke through their branches. The sound of the wind, the creaking of swaying tree limbs, and the finch’s song filled the forest. Until the finch stopped once a new voice joined the fray.

It was a crying, a squalling as if a storm had struck. The cacophonous cries broke nature's rhythm. The wind seemed to stop eerily, the trees groaned no more, and the finch looked around curiously at who could be interrupting his song.

There, on the forest floor, loosely swaddled in a dirtied, wet, garment, lay a babe. Hunger and cold seemed to have strike it, reigning like heartless tyrants over its senses. Only wanting for warmth, nourishment, and contact, the squealing infant bawled its heart out, yet there was no one around the answer the call.

Not caring about the loudness of its hectoring competitor, the finch carried on with its song. Even with the forest and all its noise, the quietness was unusually calm. Normally on a day so perfect, the finch would have to cry out over many competitors, both same and different alike. So, now was the perfect time to capitalize on the silence of others.

Even as the babe continued to cry away, shouting almost incessantly, the yellow finch continued its mating calls. Hopping out from its hole in the tree, it placed itself on the branch in the dull of emerald-green moss that covered the branches of oaks and pines who’s darkened, water soaked, bark seemed to absorb what little sunlight breached through the canopies. The breeze was stronger the higher up one went in the treetops, but the little finch continued to perform its heart out, taking the stage for itself as the wind continued to whistle on.

Tweeting away, dancing even, by shaking and fluttering its tail feathers, the yellow finch provided a display for the whole forest to view. The trees may breathe, but they do not have eyes. The only things watching them were the chipmunks, squirrels, mice, woodpeckers, and even the occasional owl that would peer from outside of their hiding holes. The day may have seemed perfect, but the briskness in the air brought an unusual sense of cold about it today. That, and the babe had brought the smell of man with it, its odor tainting the forest.

As if understanding that nobody would be coming for it, the babe whimpered, and ceased to cry no more. With a throat now sore it coughed before shivering itself back to sleep on the cold forest floor. In its heart it would hope to find warmth upon waking. Hearing the cooing of the babe, the yellow finch sang its heart out having triumphed, being the victor over its rival. Not even the trees nor the winds could provide as worthy opponents. The finch, the heroic bard of the forest was victorious! Then, it fell silent.

Freezing in fear, twisting its head around, sensing imminent danger, the conqueror was now subjugated to the insufferable feeling of predation. The horror of being consumed overwhelmed its senses to the point where all of its muscles tensed up. Then in one quick moment, it leapt back into its nest within the tree, yearning for safety. Looking out at the world, at the forest, facing the entrance of its nest, it went to assess its newfound threat.

Buffeting against the wind, resisting the whistling current, a low rumbling set through the land, resonating within the trees. Raising its wings up and rapidly descending, knocking branches out the way with its immense body, a terror of the skies had descended upon what had been a calm forest floor. Shaking the ground upon landing, a growl could be heard coming from the creature. Looking around the air, sniffing at its surroundings, it tasted the area along with all of its inhabitants. Finch, squirrel, owl, chipmunk, woodpecker… and man.

Seeing the scaly yellow, scarlet, and purple iridescent luster of its scales, the finch took in the sight of such beauty, but knew to keep its distance from afar and its presence low. Stepping forward out of curiosity, the finch wondered where the behemoth would move. Having heard the footstep, the animal reared its head staring right into the finch's eyes. Like a basilisk freezing all those in place that met its gaze, the once sonorous songbird dared to not even breathe. Feeling its heart stricken with an incapability to beat, it felt the strain of keeping still composure.

Luckily for it, the new settler had lost intertest in this poor soul. Almost letting out a sigh of relief, the singer collapsed from the sight of the outside world. A day as perfect as this, had just seemed to grow even more perfect. It's not everyday that one narrowly escapes a creature that one would equivalate with death. Out of sight was not out of mind, however. The rest of the forest, animals and plants included, were all focused on its new inhabitant.

Lumbering across the stones and gnarled tree roots that would trip and sprain many an ankle underfoot, the dragon moved its weight across the forest floor. Having heard the sound from miles away, it had picked up the scent of the sniveling hominid once downwind. Waiting to spy the source of the crying with its eyes, it scanned the woodland carpet carefully, taking a mental note of each pebble, not leaving any stone unturned in its mind. Until finally, it noticed the sight of soft, pink, meat.

Coming to a stop, lowering its serpentine neck, breathing in the cold hilltop air, the smell of the newborn confirmed that this was human, but more importantly was that it was alive. Huffing out a breath of hot air, the infant coughed and kicked with a little whine afterwards. The rest of the animals that were watching from their hiding holes were tense but were glad that it was not them out in the open. For they were certain that the pink, squishy, loud creature would be devoured in an instant. Only would they feel relief upon the dragon's departure.

Touching its snout to the babe, the beast had felt its body temperature. Then, in a flash, it had begun to transform. Its wings began to shrink, its fingers retracting. The membranes that spread out between each finger bone became but a mere small webbing between its hands. Its spikes retracted into its spine as its ankles shortened and its leg bones reproportioned themselves. Its scales transformed into skin, meanwhile while some took the shape of clothing for modesty.

Standing up, a woman with lustrous blonde hair with streaks of red gowned in a white tunic like dress with purple trim looked down upon the babe. Squatting down, she picked up the infantile being. Believing to be in the hands of comfort it started to cry a bit.

“My, my, my, what do we have here?” She sniffed the babe again. “Your scent's familiar. I think I know what, but I can’t quite place my talon on it.” Hearing the babe start to whine, she brought it close to her shoulder shushing it, “Shhh, shhh, shhh… No need to cry. Let us disturb the forest no more.”

“Gosh,” she thought, “what am I to do with you? Ah, I'll bring you to Dariglac’s place. He’ll know, he always gives the best advice.” Looking down at the babe, another troubling thought emerged, “How am I carry you whilst flying? I don’t want to hold you in my mouth in case you happen to shit there. Puking you from half a league in the air is not on my list. Nor do I think I could be gentle enough with you in the claws of my hindfeet, and I refuse to crawl across the land holding you in one of my wing's membrane forbidding myself from flying. I’m a dragon, not a chicken with clipped wings.”

Suddenly, looking at the one of the rotting logs, she was enlightened. “I got it!” Walking over hurriedly, she picked up a stone with her free hand and proceeded to carve out a hole in the wood. Digging out a decently sized crevice, she made sure it was deep enough to place the babe securely in it hopefully without it flying out from the downbeat of her wings. Rushing over to the forest floor, she grabbed off a mat of moss to place on top of the babe to hopefully weigh it down and protect it from the cold altitude. “Alright then, I think that will do.”

Transforming back into her true form, she cut off pieces from both sides of the log with her talons, ensuring its balance. Gripping onto it with her hind feet, flapping her wings, she began thrusting herself off the ground. Getting off the ground was always the hardest part, once you got high enough or gained enough speed, it was easy to keep going. This time was different though, she was now carrying a heavy log adding more than an extra five stones to her flight. Undulating her tail in rhythm with her wingbeat and her spine's movement, she clutched onto log tightly. Slowly she struggled, then she was above the treetops. With three more wingbeats, she flew over the tips of the trees, down the slope, and soared upwards into the sky.

Once she was high enough the trade winds did most of the work for her. Maintaining balance between her front and rear halves was the most difficult part, though. Normally her tail and neck were in perfect balance with one another. Now she had to pull her legs up closer with every flap of her wings.

The cool, fresh, mountain air didn’t bother her. In her younger years, before flying, when she had just begun to glide, the cold would break through past her hide. After flying for a few years in the elements, her scales had toughened enough to repel the cold and heat of most habitats. Yet, she knew that the babe could not, whether its origins were dragon or human. She didn’t have the luxury of enjoying her mountain flight today, she needed to land and soon, lest her passenger die to frostbite.

Roaring, echoing her voice throughout the mountains, a small avalanche occurred in one of the areas. Eyeing a small, shadowed portion, she watched a man with two great spiraling horns on his head with blue and grey draconian hands and legs walk from out of his icy cave. Waving her in with both of his arms, she descended in ever decreasing looping circles.

Upon seeing that she was carrying something, he groaned, “Ohhh, by the gods, what does she have this time?” Hovering just slightly above him, she waited for him to take the log from her claws. She knew how to be gentle, but she’d rather not shake such a fragile package. Taking it from her, he placed it down in front of himself. Landing off to the side, she transformed once again to enter his abode.

“Dariglac, it’s been a day.”

“A day? It’s been more than two moons since I last saw you. The summer was in full swing before the kingdoms started their preparations for harvest fest.” He huffed, “Tell me, what is it that you bring this time?”

“Can’t you smell it?”

“I can smell it alright. My question to you is do you know its true nature? Illusionary magic that surpasses ours mimics more than just sight. It does so with touch and smell. The worst more devious of illusions traps one within a false body, imprisoning them in an avatar being forced to watch from the inside.”

“So, you know that it’s a babe?”

“Yes, but there have been many babies that I’ve encountered before. Some human, some dragon, some dragon disguised as human, and some as assassins that infiltrate into castles behind moats and gates clutching to the breast of a wet nurse until the hour of the wolf arrives.” She stared at him queerly, “When you get as old as I do, you gain some wisdom.”

“You drag on, it's cold out here.”

“You certainly don’t dress for it,” he jested.

“And neither do you,” she gestured with her palms facing outwards and upwards, “your barbaric robe only goes past your knees and your chest is as bare as a frog’s underbelly is white. Do you enjoy torturing yourself?”

“Live in the mountains long enough, and your scales protect you from it. My outside is cold, but my insides are as they should be, warmer than an smith's furnace”

“Ah, so you’ve gained more than wisdom over the years?”

“Enough with the pleasantries. Do you want to come inside or not?”

“Yes,” she replied, “my guest and I would love to. Grab the log for kindling if you will, please.”

Plucking the babe out of her makeshift cradle from underneath its mossy blanket, she waltzed past Dariglac as he whipped his finger up to lift a shelve of ice from their way. Following her into his dwelling, log in hand, the ice gate closed behind them, leaving no trace of them ever being there.

“So, what is it?”

She turned to him, “Huh?”

“Aribella, tell me, what is it?”

“The babe?”

“Yes, is it a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know I haven’t checked yet. I only care about its wellbeing. Poor thing was frigidly cold when I found it, that and hungry. Pray tell, do you have any sustenance by chance?”

“Only thing I have in my cold horde is meat and herbs for flavoring. I wouldn’t suspect any of the does, sheep, or cow aurochs that I’ve captured to have their sacs full of milk. You’re free to taste and check for yourself though, but I doubt you’ll have an easy enough time trying to get any out of them. Any cream there is probably frozen and maybe even undistinguishable from the fat that’s coagulated.”

“What about goats? You fed me some last time I was here. You got a farm of them, don’t you?”

“I only drop off a few bushels of grass and salt blocks every now and then for them. Besides that I leave them to roam the mountains freely.”

“You raise them like no man, that’s for certain. You allow them to be predated upon by mountain lions and wolves alike?”

“Man is foolish in breeding livestock for certain purposes. It messes with the natural order of things and only makes for imperfect animals. If you breed a goat for milk, it does not climb so well. If you breed a goat to fight, it does live as long. I am not above nature, so I allow it to select the perfect goats for me. This is how I maintain my harmony.”

“And what if they are all predated upon or taken away?”

“Then I will feast upon what ate my goats, and what else deems fit to take their place. It’s only natural for me to do so. Us dragons feast on all animals alike, so long as they are not detrimental to our health.”

“So, if I may ask, will you go fetch a nanny for me? I don’t think we can keep this babe away from death’s door much longer if starvation is still allowed to persist.”

“If you are so concerned about the babe eating, why don’t you feed it yourself? Your human form is more than well endowed.”

“Hey!” Aribella pointed at him for his jesting, “We’re magic, not mammals.”

“All I’m saying is that you could’ve chosen to be a smooth chested beauty. It’s obvious that they’re more than just prosthetics, but it seems that you’re trying to compete with your human counterparts in all realms of aesthetics.”

“Oh, haha, very funny. I enjoy being beautiful in whatever form I choose. Thank you.”

“Well, why have them in the first place? Are you storing extra magic, or is that where you put your flight bladder?”

“Stop pestering me, will you go and do what I asked of you, please?”

“Sure thing, when I return inform me of your suspicions and plans moving forward. Also, make sure you clean up the babe of whatever scent it’s been marked with. Gods forbid it’s being traced back here.”

“Will do. Have a cauldron on the kiln?”

“Indeed, I was planning on enjoying some coffee followed by herbal tea this morning.”

“Goodness, you have coffee beans, but no cream. What kind of monster are you?”

“A dragon, just like you.” Dariglac smiled just before turning to exit.

After hearing the ice shelves close, Aribella felt Dariglac's thrust as he leapt away, shaking the mountain. Keeping a tight grip on the babe, she went about gathering some fresh linen to wrap it in along with a bowl for its bath. After having grabbed a rag to dry it with, only then did she pour the water from the cauldron into the small wooden basin. Adding a few chrysanthemum and jasmine flower petals to the mix, she tested the warmth with the tip of her elbow.

“Ooo, that won’t do.” She wanted to bathe the babe, not cook it. Scrapping a few ice shavings from off the wall, she stirred them into the bowl with her hand. Feeling the temperature drop a bit to a more pleasant level, she then started to unwrap the babe.

“Now, let’s see what you are.” Undoing the bindings of the babe’s swaddling’s, she had to dodge quickly before covering the babe back up with the garment momentarily. “Ah, so you’re a boy. Well, that settles that.” After waiting a moment, only then did she pull out the infant and placed him slowly in the tub of warm water, supporting his head and neck along the length of her forearm.

Feeling the new medium upon his body, even though it was warming him up from the frigid cold of the forest's mountain air, the babe started to whine again. “Shhh, shhh, shhh, shhh… No need to worry. No need to whine. You’re alright. You’re alright baby. Shhh, shhh, shhh…”

Blowing a warm breath of air onto his face, Aribella made the babe hold its breath before submerging him beneath the water for a brief second to scrub the top of his head and face. Pulling him out quickly, she wrapped him up in a drying cloth, slightly bouncing herself to settle his cries. “You’re alright. You’re alright. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

After drying him off, she wrapped him up in soft, dry, linen that would put even the finest furs of alpacas and chinchillas to shame. Gathering a few warming rocks from the kiln’s fire, she placed them below the basket that she laid the babe in. “There, nice and warm.”

Thinking of Dariglac, she started to prep him two glasses. One for his coffee and the other for his herbal tea. She figured that she should at least do him the favor of preparing his drinks if he were to bring them a goat.

Not long after she had ground the coffee in a bag with a rolling pin had he returned. The ice shelves slammed together with the bleating of a goat, signaling his entrance. Walking into the kitchen with the animal over his shoulder, he smiled at her, “Oh, you’re making me a drink. Thank You.”

“It’s the least I could do. My presence is more than enough, but my guest I figured is probably too much for you. I should at least make sure that you’re more than comfortable, especially in your own abode.”

“Even in the homes of others, you show hospitality.”

“Please, this is courtesy. Don’t confuse the two.”

Placing the goat down, he tied the rope from around its neck to one of the cabinet drawers next to it. Grabbing a bowl off the countertop, he proceeded to milk the goat till the bowl was halfway full.

“How’s this?” He turned to her, “Thick and creamy enough for ya’?”

She nodded her head ‘yes.’ “Give it here and let me hand you another. One shouldn’t cry over spilt milk, but I believe that the babe would beg to differ.”

“As would I, it takes a lot of resources to make this stuff. To let a single drop go to waste would be like pissing away gold into a river my eyes.”

She laughed at his remark, “You really do enjoy the simple things in life, don’t you Dariglac?”

“Food, silence, and peace. That’s all the heaven I need. Gold and silver can go to hell for all I care for.”

“Pray the other dragons don’t hear you speak of such things. It would be like blasphemy to their ears to hear you dismiss their impressive hordes that they sleep upon.”

“Gold and silver cannot replenish itself like aurochs, sheep, and deer. Many a dragon has succumbed to the sickness of greed trying to resort to the services of alchemist. One cannot turn pyrite into gold. Alas, the chemistry of nature allows for a bull and a heifer to turn the grass of a field into the meat of a calf. In due time that process repeats itself. There is no greater wonder or joy in the whole world.”

Handing him a second bowl after taking the other out of his hand she said, “Here, fill this one up and let’s try adding it to the coffee or tea. Why not enjoy nature’s blessings along with the guest?”

“Hmmm…” He grunted.

After the she-goat was milked, Aribella boiled the secretions, ensuring to remove any potential illnesses residing within it. Stirring it gently, before removing it from the fire, letting it cool, she asked him, “Did it take you long to find this goat?”

“Not really, no.”

“How’d you know she was the right one?”

“I helped her deliver two kids earlier this summer, right before you visited.”

“Why so caring? I thought you’d allow a mother and its kids to live and die naturally without interference.”

“I did it for the afterbirth. It’s a real delicacy when prepared right.” Aribella looked at him in disgust. “Oh relax, you’ve at least eaten one or two placentas in a meat pie from one of the people’s fairs. They promise meat in those pies, not specific cuts. You have no idea how much chitlins most serfs put in theirs.”

“Fair point. I’ll concede to you on that. Though, meat pies are not my preferred pie. Especially if the meat happens to be a mystery.”

“Well, since we’re on the topic of food, is the milk ready yet for the babe?”

“Yep,” she blew on it a bit to cool it down, “it’s just right. Got a skin that I can put it in?”

“On the wall to your left. I always keep a clean sack for fresh water. Hover it over the fire quickly to ensure nothing’s been growing in there. Mold’s dangerous 'round this time of year.”

Doing as he said, she sanitized the skin before carefully ladling the milk into it. Squishing the sack around in her hand, she held it tightly before bringing the babe over to the table. Upon removing the boy from his warm basket, she jostled him awake, before gently pouring the milk onto his lips. Tasting the secretion, the babe started to latch. Knowing that it would be better going about it the other way, Aribella poked a small hole in the skin, allowing the milk to dribble out slowly at a controlled pace.

“Apologies Dariglac, I’ll make you another.”

“Much appreciated.” Watching her, he wondered before asking, “Aribella, why do you care so much for this random babe that you’ve found?”

“Huh?” She looked up at him.

“Why care so much for this babe when you’re already of an age that you should be having your own? Most female dragons tend to have their first clutch at the age of seven decades. Your sister had hers at half a century.”

“Ughhh… Don’t get me started on this Dariglac. Besides, helping to raise her spawn wasn't always fun.”

“Why is that?”

“Do you know how exhausting it is to feed, clean, and protect dragonlings, let alone raise them?”

“Well, what happened to Nezera’s mate?”

“Ethrax knew that they didn’t have enough food in the area at the time, so they had to resort to purchasing from the farmer’s market every now and then. Needing more gold and food for their coffers, he entered under a blood contract as a Block Wood’s loyal steed for eight months. He delivered messages and fast travel for their lord. The quickness of their messages allowed them to actually win against a siege.”

“Essentially he served as a large guard dog, protecting their lord from assassinations and the like.”

“Literally speaking. Even though the contract forbade him from physically disobeying the lord, he still had enough control to evade bolts and ballistas firing javelins. I think I was happier than Nezera when he returned.”

“That’s why I don’t like living too close to humans. Pretty soon you’ll get involved with their politics, war, but worst of all their taxes. Violence is one thing, but payment just for existing is another.”

“And you wonder why I chose to not have a lair of my own?”

“Well, a lair is one thing, children are another. You’re already a century and a quarter. If you don’t have them soon, you’ll regret by the time you turn three hundred.”

“Oh hush, didn’t your father have you when he was past four centuries?”

“My father, yes. My mother was still in her early eighties. Her eggs were fresher than a spring hen’s. Plus, by that time my father had already raised three clutches. The first of eight, the second of four, third of nine, and mine was seven, myself included.”

“So, he had some real wisdom on him when it came to rearing you.”

“Yep, but what was so terrible about helping to raise your sister’s get.”

“Oh gods, my sister would always be shedding her skin to feed them. I swear that she shed so many scales that she ended up raw for a whole week. Her skin was almost as soft as a shaved cat. Then when she didn’t have enough shed skin to feed them their daily intake of magic and nutrients she would poke small holes in her hide to let her blood drip for them to drink up.”

“You know that Kingdred has his wives do the same, especially when they’re in human form. After using their illusion magic to make their chicks appear as humans, the mothers poke their teats to give the appearance of nursing.”

“Goodness, why any female dragon would want to be with that piece of work is beyond me. Why get involved with humans in the first place?”

“To give him a bit of credit, he’s kept a up a lot of decent agreements between human and dragon kind alike. Just recently did I hear that he helped to settle a peace treaty with a country off over in the east. The dragons there rule over humans. Meanwhile Kingdred rules amongst them, hiding in plain sight. His only wealth is his castle, farmlands, and children. He keeps his gold in circulation quite often, giving the guise that the poor are not truly poor.”

“Alas, if he’s got so many wives, they might have as many wet nurses as well to help us feed this poor thing.” She looked to the babe as it continued to suckle upon the skin.

“Well, that’s why he's married five. When one has a clutch, the others help to raise all of the babes. In a sense, it’s how he’s had so many in so few years. Luckily for him, they’ve all had rather low numbers, or he’s dispersed some of the rest amongst the common populace placing them with farmers, butchers, smiths, and the like.”

“Goodness, now you seem more concerned about the babe than I do.”

“Well, what your plan with it?”

“I plan on finding its parents, or at the bare minimum discover its status. A babe of lowborn serfs that winds up missing could cause an uprising. The potential for a missing heir could drastically affect the politics of the neighboring areas. I like flying out in the open without having weaponry firing at me. Regardless if they’re weak arrows or cannonballs shot from explosive gunpowder.”

“Well, do you have any potential leads of where to start?”

“When I picked him up, he smelled a little familiar, and I think I know where we can trace that smell back to, though it may not be its origin.”

“What is it?”

“He smelled slightly of cumin. So, my best guess is probably a trade port nearby.”

Dariglac smiled, “Well, you know what that means?”

“Ugh… if it must be so, then let it be.”

“Off to Kingdred’s. He should have somebody who’s familiar with the spice trade.”

"Alright then, but you're flying and I'm riding."

"Good, I don't want the humans knowing of your two forms."