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The Scaled Child

Born of Man, Raised of Dragon

By Kincaid JenkinsPublished about a year ago Updated about a year ago 5 min read
3

The child showed no fear as the shadow passed over it, cut through low hung clouds and returned to engulf this frail body in ultimate darkness. Indeed, the child merely reached out towards the leathery wings, the sharpened talons, the heat expelling from the nostrils. Sometimes the prey doesn't recognize the predator and this seemed to vex the dragon. It stood upright and beat heavy wings until the branches shuddered and the leaves fell. The child rolled backwards and came up laughing. The dragon, becoming enraged, tested it further, bringing one great golden eye within orbit of the child's face, blinking slowly until the lizard like iris revealed vague eons of a dominant species. The child merely saw itself in that domed reflection and smiled. The dragon sniffed at it to which the child let out a great sneeze, sending a gout of snot across the dragon's scales. It recoiled in disgust. It could eat this thing here and now and be done with it. It had done far worse for lesser transgressions. Yet something about this child made it appear bigger than the mere morsel it might offer the beast. It brought a claw down around the child, three talons encasing it like a prison cage. Then, careful not to tear the precious flesh of the babe, it scooped it up, clumps of earth and all and carried it through the air towards a cave in the distance. What sounds the child could be heard to make seemed almost joyous in nature.

The entrance to the cave was low and the dragon had to crouch to crawl inside. There, caught in perpetual darkness, its eyes adjusted as if revealing fire light. It crawled deeper inside until it reached the nest. Two newly hatched dragons lay on their side and flopped awake like fish against the river rocks. They stared up at their mother. All around the nest lay the discarded bones of previous meals, including the remains of a third dragon, having died during the hatching process and fallen limp to the cave floor, becoming a feast for its siblings to survive upon. The mother placed the human infant into one of the broken shells. The siblings would choose if it would be food or a play thing. They nudged at it with their snouts, pushing it around the cave until the shell toppled and the child fell out. It began to wail aloud and they answered its call with similar cries. The infant reached forward and grabbed one of the dragon hatchlings by the neck and held tight. In that moment it was decided, the infant would not be eaten. Not today, not ever. They all three looked up to the mother and she draped them in wing until they slept.

Time goes slowly for dragons as they are immortal unless killed but the child grew quickly and within fifteen years it was fully grown. It knew not what it was or why it appeared differently from its brethren, only feeling the instinctly animalistic notion that they were all connected. That words like Mother, Brother and Sister existed to it without meaning. In the minds of the dragons it was known as Soft Skin yet aside from this outward appearance it lived in their world. Eating the same foods, sometimes cooked by the dragon fire, sometimes raw. Living in the same cave where its human eyes had adjusted to remove the dark. Hunting with its family, stalking the horse and cattle from the ground and signaling the location for the circling dragons to swoop through the canopy of trees and catch the animals in hiding.

The only other way in which they differed was in their feelings toward humans. The dragons knew of their fear and treachery, having witnessed other dragons fall to these lesser folk. Soft Skin would watch them from a distance and wonder why they looked so alike. It would study the hands and feet, touch the hair upon its head, listen to their sounds, so alike that it would often mimic their words and say them out loud in the cave where the family of dragons would listen to this foreign tongue with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. It wasn't long until Soft Skin would would share the same feelings for man and know the pain of loss.

One day hunting with Sister, Soft Skin alerted her to a valley where cattle were grazing unseen. She swooped gracefully through the narrow alley of cliffs and landed in front of the herd. Soft Skin closed in behind them until the animals were pinned. Suddenly, heavy chain nets fell from the tops of the cliffs and a few men who were wearing the skin of cattle and hiding among their numbers rose with spears and pierced Sister's side. She struggled to fly but failed with the weight of the nets upon her and tangling. Soft Skin tried to engage and fight the men but they pushed the half child aside and began to beat it about the head. As Soft Skin drifted towards final sleep it saw on the horizon Mother and Brother approaching, beating heavily against the winds and scaring the men away, taking the time to slash and eat what few they could. Soft Skin watched Mother carry Sister and felt Brother enclose it within a claw, much as on the day of its birth. When Soft Skin woke inside the cave Sister's still eye was fixed upon it. It knew of the hunt and of the kill. Now it knew of personal death. They would mourn for a week.

One night while laying awake, streaked in something wet that poured from its eyes, Soft Skin took hold of one of Sister's now loose teeth and pried it from her mouth. It used this to peel a patch of scales from her hide which it fashioned into a new skin for itself, then it fixed the sharpened tooth upon a stick like a spear and went to Mother. Soft Skin planted the spear in the ground and beat upon this new skin with its fists until Mother understood. In her mind and the mind of Brother, Soft Skin would now forever be called Scaled Skin and when they flew out for the village at first light it was this visage that the men who had killed Sister saw first, that of a grown child, garbed in scales, riding the back of a dragon with another in tow, wielding a bloody tooth high in the air and calling for their death in words it could not form. What sounds the Scaled Skin could be heard to make seemed almost vengeful in nature.

AdventureFableFantasyYoung Adult
3

About the Creator

Kincaid Jenkins

Author of "Drinking With Others: Poetry by the Pint" available at https://redhawkpublications.company.site/Drinking-With-Others-Poetry-by-the-Pint-p470423761 and for purchase on Amazon.

Instagram: kincaidjenkins103

Reader insights

Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

Top insights

  1. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

  2. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

  3. Heartfelt and relatable

    The story invoked strong personal emotions

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Comments (3)

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  • Donna Fox (HKB)about a year ago

    What an interesting take on the prompt. I really like the perspective you took and the way you shaped the story. Thanks for sharing this, it was compelling and such a great read!

  • ThatWriterWomanabout a year ago

    Well done! This was engaging and showcased an amazing ability to write emotional stories in a short word count. A pat on the back for you!

  • Willow Cindersabout a year ago

    Really fun story and I felt for the characters!

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