Tanwen Shatterscale

“I YIELD,” Tanwen screamed as she woke, dragged from her troubled dreams by a deep sense of foreboding. She shook her head violently as she rose, trying to quickly dispel the terrible images that had tormented her sleeping mind. Her younger sister’s fiery maw still filled her vision despite waking, and Tanwen shuddered at the thought of those dreams coming true. It had been years since she’d had a nightmare like that, and she wasn’t happy going through it once again. Tanwen liked to think she’d left thoughts of her sister and the rest of the clan behind, but clearly living apart from them for so long did little to dispel the emotions attached to them. Slowly, as she tried to move on, it dawned on her that the feeling of unease hadn’t lessened after waking. Tanwen glanced around, careful to keep her nictitating membranes closed against the glare of late afternoon sunlight that was filtering into her cave.

The light’s rays were catching floating motes of dust as they danced around the space, and Tanwen could feel her skin itching. Her normally pristine scales were completely coated with earth, a testament to how stressed her sleep had been. She raked the cave with her eyes, searching for anything out of the ordinary, but the source of her anxiety in the real world was hard to place. The limestone walls glistened wetly despite the arid dirt floor, and flowed in a wave-like pattern from the entrance all the way to the back. It was that apparent design that had first caught her attention and eventually led to claiming the cave as her own. None of the niches in the rock were large enough to hide anything, and the only spots of color anywhere were the stark white bones of her last kill.

Tanwen gave a surprised start as she realized she couldn’t smell anything. Advanced age had brought its fair share of physical maladies, many of which had certainly been creeping up on her over the last several years, but the thought of never smelling again terrified her. Fear zipped its way along Tanwen’s spine, causing her muscles to twitch and shake free the grime that stuck to her. Seeing it all rise into the air, she grumbled in disgust at her own paranoia; once again finding dust to be the culprit. She snorted violently, causing twin jets of flame to scorch from her muzzle, obliterating the dust and searing the floor in front of her. The first thing Tanwen noticed once her snout was clear was a strange scent in the air. It immediately raised her hackles, and made her question once again whether her den was safe. Perhaps living far from other dragons was making her crazy after all, Tanwen huffed to herself, as she headed toward the cave’s entrance.

She was eager to get to clearer air outside, and moved swiftly out into the sunlight. Only, the air wasn’t clear at all. Tanwen’s lips curled back, baring her prodigious fangs, as a noxious scent assaulted her. The odor was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Even raising several broods of younglings over the years did not prepare her for this particular smell. Whatever it was, its presence confirmed Tanwen’s unnerved feelings. Despite having no desire to inhale more of the stench, Tanwen felt compelled to investigate. It was close enough to her den to present a potential problem, and she didn’t want to be forced to live back amongst the clan because of a simple stink. Growling in frustration, Tanwen set out in search, allowing her nose to guide her.

The trees grew close outside of her den, and Tanwen added to the scars on their trunks as she snaked her way through the forest. The scent of pine needles and mulch, that normally rose in dominant fashion from the soil, hinted only faintly at their presence. Before long, the strange smell became so intense that Tanwen couldn’t determine a precise location. This confusion nearly led to the stepping on, and subsequent squashing, of the culprit. Only a quiet hiccup from the area underneath her left paw alerted Tanwen that something was there. A small creature lay there, nearly hidden by the undergrowth. The odor seemed to be emanating from it, and Tanwen poked her snout closer to identify the creature and determine what made it so pungent.

It was clearly a youngling, unable to do much but root around slowly and occasionally make noises. Strangely, it had only small amounts of fur, no scales, and seemed to have a sack-like layer around its midsection. The aroma rose from within that layer, and smelled so foul that Tanwen snorted and jerked back, nearly burning the creature to a crisp. She had never seen anything like it before, and had certainly never smelled anything like it. Tanwen was sure that there were some among the dragons who would be fascinated by the discovery of something new, but she didn’t particularly care. In her younger years, she had been fascinated by all of the unique living things that her home had to offer. Every new experience and discovery had seemed so exciting as a youth. The only thing she was interested in now was moving the critter far enough away to clear the air by her den.

The animal had finally noticed Tanwen, having rolled onto its back, and was stretching its limbs upwards toward her. The most striking thing about it was its eyes, dark brown and too big for its bulbous head. The rest of the body was mostly a shapeless mass with four pudgy extremities poking from the center. Overall, it was an ugly, smelly little thing that clearly couldn’t care for itself. Tanwen knew it wouldn’t survive long out on its own, and began questing with her nose once again to try to sniff out any other new scents. She couldn’t detect any hint of a progenitor, and having noticed nothing else peculiar, she found herself once again gazing into the creature’s eyes. Those certainly weren’t ugly, and the cooing noises that burbled from it made Tanwen feel oddly protective. It clearly wasn’t threatening, and despite the long years since her last brood, Tanwen could feel her maternal instincts kicking in. Why they would do so for such a strange animal was lost on her, yet she found herself dangling the child delicately between her teeth from its pouch and walking back to her den.

The creature immediately began to hiccup once more, and soon let out a series of piercing cries. Tanwen quickly dropped it back to the forest floor, worried that her fangs had injured it. Instead of curling up in pain, the toddler began to slowly crawl around. It still cried, but more softly now. She truly had no clue what to do with the thing. It seemed very fragile, and she had no idea what it might eat for food. Tanwen groaned inwardly as she realized she’d have to go back to Hynis and ask for help. Surely one of the more learned members of the clan had seen creatures like this one before, or at least could figure out what to do with it. She would not let them harm it; that was undeniable. As strange as it was, Tanwen was already considering the chubby thing with enormous eyes her own. It had been a very long time since she had raised a youngling, and was already feeling the excitement that the challenge would bring to her solitary life.

Gently, she raised the child from the ground again and continued on. Her thoughts churned the entire trek back to her den, envisioning every possible scenario of returning to the clan. Overwhelmingly, Tanwen anticipated the negative events that could happen. She’d not left on the best of terms, and returning after so long would likely be viewed suspiciously, especially by her sister. Her emotions warred between uncertainty and pride, fear and protectiveness. It was not an easy choice, but by the time Tanwen was curled comfortably back in her den, sleeping infant nestled between her paws, she had made a decision. Avoid her sister, sneak herself and the creature into the den of an old friend, and get advice quickly before disappearing once more. Satisfied with the resolution of her internal debate, Tanwen watched the toddler sleep for a while longer before following suit herself.

***

Cadmus loved flying, especially when he was on his own. The sense of peace that radiated through him while he soared above the rest of the world was unmatched. It made him feel powerful, and incredibly free. Cadmus never did quite understand why all creatures had not grown wings to glide atop the winds like dragons did. Tonight was especially exciting, because he was not technically supposed to be out flying by himself. He was only allowed to fly around Hynis during the day, and not cross any open water at all when he was alone. It was completely unfair, as none of his friends were forced to obey silly rules. They could basically do whatever they wanted, but Cadmus’ position as the son of the matriarch had some drawbacks. He was coddled, and it did not make any sense. Cadmus should have been pushing the limits, leading his peers by example, and his frustration grew the more he reflected on it.

The formerly peaceful flight grew ever more sour, and Cadmus decided he would prove to his mother once and for all that he was old enough to finally branch out. Besides, there was nothing on the islands that could truly harm a dragon. Sure, a youngling or two had brashly decided to try hunting a full grown Lealces and been badly injured, but he was not that stupid. Lealces were normally docile despite their incredible size, huge antlers, and claws, and only fully-grown females would antagonize them by hunting them alone. Mind set, Cadmus increased the beat of his wings, rocketing east past the coastline. He skimmed low over the waves, snapping occasionally at the Exocoets that burst out of the surf to join him in the air. Cadmus was soon back over land, skirting wide around any dens to avoid detection.

Eventually, he passed the furthest point his mother had ever taken him in their chain of islands, and only Nysig was left on the horizon before the open sea. It was the smallest of the islands; remote enough that few dragons ever ventured there, and none deigned to live on it other than his estranged aunt. It had not been Cadmus’ intention to explore Nysig, but he felt the need to talk to someone about the restrictions placed on his life. He had never met his aunt, but family was family, and she might know why his mother was such a worrywart. Despite the anger he knew his mother would feel at his actions, Cadmus decided to at least search for her and decide for himself what she was like. Galvanized by the prospect, he winged his way over the final stretch of water to Nysig’s dark shores, intent on finding her den. He flew up high, using the warmer air over the land to gain height.

From his perch atop the thermal currents, Cadmus quickly spotted an anomaly on the southeastern shoreline. Bright light burned there, clearly the evidence of fire, and he was surprised he hadn’t seen the glow sooner. It was certainly strange to see such a large area burning, but perhaps his aunt had made her den near the shore and was clearing brush around it. Cadmus tilted his wings, feeling the air slip past underneath the tight membranes, and began his dive back toward the earth. His keen eyes zeroed in as he approached, and he was puzzled to see that the fire was staying static. Rather than raging along the edge of the forest, it was contained in a specific area. Large piles of flaming broken trees were surrounded by stone circles, and were spaced out between even larger stacks of unlit trees.

As Cadmus flew closer, the wind shifted course, and an unfamiliar odor wafted around him. He flapped his wings quickly, slowing his descent into a lazy spiral as he attempted to identify the scent. It was certainly from an animal, but he had never smelled such a complex mix of aromas from one source. The sour stench of sweat stung his nostrils, and its blending with the reek of anger and fear turned his stomach. Cadmus knew no dragon would smell like that, and was bewildered by the sense of alarm that coursed through him at the scent. Whatever it was, it was fundamentally wrong, and Cadmus’ instincts warned him to stay away. Those instincts fought with his sense of duty and his pride as he continued floating slowly downward. He had flown all this way to prove to his mother that he was grown enough to be capable, and flying home at the first hint of something strange wouldn’t convey that sentiment. Besides, whatever was creating that smell could present a danger to the clan, and it was his duty to help protect everyone.

Instincts overridden, Cadmus banked groundward and took a low pass over the area. The thumping of his wings shook the stacks of trees, and sent sparks flying in every direction from the fires. Almost immediately, Cadmus heard strange cries, and the shore was soon flooded with a group of animals. They streamed out of the mounds of trees, tramping about on their hind legs and waving their forepaws in the air. So strange was the sight, that Cadmus nearly missed a large space set aside from the rest. It was brightly lit with piles of broken trees, and in the center sat a strange formation. The material was unrecognizable, but was made up of many straight pieces that formed over a dark mass. Cadmus could see through the gaps in the material, and was shocked to see a dragon huddled underneath the structure.

He swiftly dove towards the stretch of beach, landing heavily beside the prone dragon. Cadmus could tell she was an older female, and could only conclude that it was his outcast aunt laying there. She appeared to be sleeping, so he growled softly and shoved against the formation in an attempt to wake her. There was only a slight shift in her positioning, and Cadmus noticed long strands of the unknown material had been draped over her supine form. The ends of the strands disappeared into the sand, and were clearly impeding her ability to move. Cadmus roared louder, frustrated, and bathed one of the lengths in flame. He could hear a group of the strange new animals closing in on their position, but ignored them as he heightened the intensity of his fire.

The material was slowly changing color and losing its shape the more heat he infused it with, and Cadmus knew he was close to destroying it. Finally, a piece of it disintegrated into molten liquid and one of the strands slumped to the sand. At that moment, Cadmus heard several quiet, high pitched sounds twang from behind him. They were immediately followed by heavy thuds against his scales, and two sharp pains in his right wing. He spun quickly, and felt more objects clatter against his scales, leaving harsh bruises against his leathery skin. Instinct took over, and Cadmus leaped into the air with a sharp cry. He hastily flapped his wings to gain height, seeing the two sharp sticks that poked through his flesh.

Cadmus felt fear rush through him as more of the sticks darted through the air, several shooting straight through the tight skin of his wings. He screamed in pain and, despite feeling like a coward, sped away from the shore. Cadmus had never experienced a creature that could attack him so effectively, and the efficiency of it all terrified him. He cursed himself as he flew farther away, knowing he was leaving his aunt behind, but he couldn’t force himself to turn around. His breathing grew labored, and his injuries burned as he continued to fly toward home as fast as he could. Every motion felt ponderous, and Cadmus beseeched the winds to push him home to his mother as rapidly as they could.

***

Tanwen blearily opened her eyes, confused by the lights and noises that assaulted her senses. Fire danced and leapt across her vision, and she could hear the pained roars of another dragon somewhere above her. She tried to rise, but a cold, heavy material was slung about her body, impeding her. Tanwen inhaled deeply, attempting to clear her head and understand what was happening. Slowly, pieces of memory floated back into her mind, and her entire body stiffened. Her den had been reeking of the youngling as she slept, and an increase in the pungent smell hadn’t registered to her slumbering mind. More of the creatures must have snuck in to take the child back, and Tanwen’s throbbing skull reminded her of the blinding pain she’d felt at the back of her head before everything went dark.

She realized the roaring had stopped, and tried unsuccessfully to look around. Something had happened, but Tanwen’s mind was still too fuzzy to figure anything out. All she could smell was burning fires and the unwashed stink of the many animals around her. They were dancing all around her, chanting strange noises with fervor. Tanwen was slowly coming back to reality, and she knew one thing above all else: she must escape. Her first step was to understand the material that bound her to the ground with such strength. She eyed the stick of it in front of her, and forced a breath of fire towards it in an attempt to see if it would melt. Almost immediately, the group of creatures noticed her efforts and began running around making agitated noises. Tanwen ignored them and focused on her flame, but soon noticed a very large specimen step towards her with a large piece of wood in its paws. He raised it far above his head, and brought it down with crushing force onto her skull.

Tanwen’s vision swam, her body shuddered, and her fire winked out. The material in front of her glowed brightly with heat, but remained solid. Tanwen could feel herself shrinking, exactly like she had always done when faced with difficulty. Her mind flicked back to the reason her younger sister was the matriarch of the clan. Tanwen often shied away from conflict, and thought violence as a first resort was rather dull-minded. Her view was not exactly shared by the clan and, rather than forcing a battle for leadership, Tanwen had abdicated. Living away from other dragons had been her penance, and now she could feel the fight leaving her limbs after receiving such a heavy blow. The animals were watching her silently, gauging her reaction. In that quiet moment, a small burble sounded.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tanwen saw the child she had thought to raise as her own. It crawled across the ground towards her, eyes locked with her own and a smile on its face. The rest of the group once again reacted in a frenzy. One of the creatures ran forward and snatched the youngling from the ground. It immediately ripped the sack-like layer from it and began mercilessly pounding on its backside. Tanwen roared, furious at the treatment of the babe, and began struggling once more. She threw her body violently from side to side in an attempt to dislodge her restraints. Once again, her efforts were met with a massive strike to the head. As her vision dimmed, Tanwen could see the child as it was rushed away, and felt the rest of the creatures pile blows onto her prone form. After what seemed like an eternity, the punishment finally ceased. She could vaguely sense the group dissipating, and relief surged through her. Tanwen knew she must still escape, but needed to recuperate and come up with a plan of action. She willingly allowed the darkness to take her, and slipped into an agitated sleep.

The beginnings of light were appearing on the horizon when Tanwen finally awoke. She tried to flex her sore muscles, ignoring the punishing lances of pain that shot from her head. Surprisingly, she noticed a small gobbet of meat that had been placed near her snout. Tanwen quickly snatched it up, hearing a small hiccuping noise from slightly behind her as she swallowed. The noise materialized into one of the creatures that inched its way into her vision. It was clearly still a youngling, although already much larger than the child she had stumbled upon. The youth bared its teeth at her, in an unpredictably warm way rather than a challenging one, before scampering away. Tanwen had the feeling that it would be punished if the adults found out about the food, and once again found herself floored by the depth of maternal protectiveness she felt toward another animal. She mulled over the emotion for a short while, pondering its significance.

As Tanwen lay there on the sand, the sun finally deigned to rise, bathing the beach in a golden brilliance. Tanwen sensed its rays warming her, and rushed into action. The light would act to hide any attempt to melt her restraints, and she hoped the clan of animals slept past the sun’s rise. She snorted carefully, shooting a controlled jet of flame at the nearest constraint. It immediately shone with warmth, and Tanwen repeated the process. Eventually, the material melted into the sand, and she could raise her head to look around. Tanwen curled her head to the side of her body, consistently releasing more spurts of fire. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, she completely freed the rest of her scaly length. Adrenaline flooded through her veins as she contemplated the final bits of material that stood between her and freedom. She could hear the animals moving around the beach now, and knew escaping unnoticed would not be an option.

Tanwen closed her eyes, mustering her courage before taking the final step. She refused to fall back into her old pattern, despite knowing she had done so mere hours before. It was time to fight back, even if that only meant running away. Her eyes snapped open, and a powerful flow of molten heat doused everything in front of her. After a few moments, Tanwen heard a commotion behind her, signaling her escape had been observed. She plowed doggedly on, watching as the strange material softened and dripped to the sand. The fuss behind her grew to a climax, warning of the imminent arrival of more punishment. As the first blows struck her hindquarters, Tanwen surged forward, bursting free and flapping heavily with her wings. She laboriously gained altitude, once again fighting unconsciousness as her vision dimmed. Wakefulness slammed back into focus as searing pain shot its way through her wings in several spots. She bellowed her displeasure, continuing to beat her wings against the agony in her desperate attempt to gain more height.

Tanwen’s muscles were still coiled tight with the anticipation of more pain several minutes later, until she realized she was finally out of danger. The resulting relaxation nearly made her plummet out of the sky, and she hurriedly wobbled into a shallow dive. Everything seemed blurry and out of focus, so much so that Tanwen didn’t realize it when several other dragons fell into formation around her. Only when one swooped below her to stop her descent did Tanwen perceive the company. She dully acknowledged their presence, and then focused back on staying aloft. Her mind fell into a deep haze, punctuated by the rhythm of beating wings. In the end, she would never remember the end of the flight, alighting safely on Hynis and crawling, exhausted, into a shallow cave to sleep.

The scent of nervous anticipation woke Tanwen a short time later, and she cracked her eyelids to see a youth, barely beyond his youngling years, shifting from paw to paw at the entrance to the cave. Something about him smelled familiar, and Tanwen reluctantly roused herself to see what he wanted.

“Aunt Tanwen,” the boy declared in a formal voice, “you are hereby summoned to the war council of matriarch Tan ‘Du Shatterscale to discuss plans of battle against the new threat to dragonkind.” Tanwen jerked in surprise at the title she had been given, and discerned that the youth did indeed smell like her sister. She studied him for a few moments, noting the raw wounds on his wings with particular interest.

“And why would I want to do that?” Tanwen replied testily, rising to her feet. The youth’s jaw dropped, clearly unprepared for such an irreverent response.

“Well, Aunt Tanwen,” he said carefully, “because your matriarch demands it. I thought you would want to be involved, to get revenge against those detestable newcomers. I certainly want revenge.” Tanwen could smell anger and shame emanating from the boy, and realized that he must have been the dragon she heard roaring when she awoke as a prisoner.

“I don’t need revenge, boy,” she said angrily, “I need to sleep, recover, and then go home.” His shock deepened, showing on his angular face as he struggled to respond.

“My name is not ‘boy’, it’s Cadmus,” he said, raising his volume to match hers. “And how could you not want revenge? They captured you, and clearly hurt you like they did me!”

“I didn’t say I don’t want revenge, I said I don’t need it. There is a clear difference. Besides, I feel no need to wipe out an entire species for the fearful actions of a few of its members.” Tanwen eyed Cadmus, looking for a flicker of understanding to cross his face. She saw nothing but frustration, and understood that it would take a lifetime for him to accept what she had decided to believe. At the same time, she realized that Cadmus was his mother’s son, and that Tan ‘Du would put forth the same sentiment. Tan ‘Du was always a bit bloodthirsty, fitting the long tradition of matriarchs for their clan. Any injury that had befallen her son would be paid back tenfold. Before Cadmus could respond, Tanwen spoke again:

“I won’t be caught up in some crazed, spiteful scheme of my sister’s. Every creature deserves their place here, and I should hope there are some others on this rock that agree with me!” Tanwen realized she was breathing heavily at the end of her tirade, and huffed in annoyance before treading toward the exit of the cave. Cadmus backed away as she approached, clearly unsure of her intentions. She walked straight past him, clambering down the craggy hillside and entering the trees below. There she paused, unsure of why something was nagging at the back of her mind.

The thought of the dragons heading out in force to annihilate the newly discovered animals should not have bothered her. Yet, the nagging thought remained. They did deserve a place on the islands, even if their fear made them unnaturally aggressive. That fear could be tempered as they became accustomed to the new environment. Tanwen thought back to the kindness she was shone by the unknown youngling, risking punishment to bring her food. She certainly couldn’t forget the large brown eyes of the babe she had found, staring so curiously up at her. In a moment of clarity, Tanwen turned back toward the mountain that Tan ‘Du ruled from. She couldn’t let the animosity continue, and she wouldn’t let her sister exterminate an entire group of creatures. Her body thrummed with energy in defiance of her wounds, and she beat her wings forcefully, speeding up the mountainside. Surprised at her own fortitude, Tanwen did something she had never done before: she went to confront her sister.