The Wyvern Child

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Yet there one lay, the unmistakable curve of the firm myrtle green tail snaking towards the husk of a long dead tree. Only the tip of the tail crept out from beneath the undergrowth. The green scales, each larger than a human hand, were dulled with mud and dust. Twigs burrowed between the scales, protruding at all angles, catching fallen leaves in their path. Dense cobwebs wedded with dewdrops bound the tail to the sandy creek bed. This dragon had not moved in a long time.

There had been dragons in the Valley, but only briefly on the fringes of living memory. The stories of their presence echoed in every child’s ears, reminding them never to stray too far from the home. But just as quickly as they came, they had left. Relocated somewhere with larger prey and dryer climate. Their absence left a hole in the village soul – of course there was security as well in their departure. Farmers stopped worrying that their livestock would vanish in the depths of night, and children were allowed to stay outside alone. However, the departure of the dragons left a sense of purposelessness hanging in the air. It reminded the villagers of what they were; peasants nestled away between two mountains. A town so far off the traveller’s route that no one knew they existed. A place without meaning or pride, just another place that existed because it did. And yet, the shape nestled in the sand could not be mistaken.

Her breath hardly escaping her lips, Revna bent slowly, grasping a long stick in sweaty palms. She brought it to the tail – not daring to let the two touch – and tugged at the cobwebs running down its side. They fell away, wrapping around the thin stick in their collapse. Beneath them, dirt had piled up around the scales, begging to drag the body down into the thick mud. Still the dragon did not move.

Carefully, Revna crept forward. The stick moved towards the ground beside her, and with bated breath she dared take her hands to the scaled tail. Blood pounded in her ears as she removed singular leaves and twigs from the tail, not daring move in case the beast stir. More scales emerged as she took the debris in her hands, gradually revealing a thick, curved spine that protruded from the ridge of the tail. The spines grew thicker and longer as they stretched up the dragon’s back, spaced each at least a foot apart. The spines were swathed in cobwebs, their colours barely distinguishable beneath the glistening silver. Disbelief consumed her as she worked to uncover the dragon. Her fingers quivered, hovering slightly above the thick scales. They hesitated a moment before touching down on the dulled green. Yet still the beast didn’t move. There was no magnificent rumbling, no stirring of firey breath. Just cold.

For the first time since she sighted the tail, Revna breathed deeply. She brought her arms parallel to the tail and slid one underneath the thick layer of debris strewn across it. Her hand ran along the icy scales, yet still it didn’t move. With a soft grunt, she pulled the twigs, leaves, and roots from the tail, clearing way for her eyes to glimpse what truly lay before her.

The sun continued to trickle down, approaching nearer to the mountain's rugged crest. Revna knew that little daylight would remain, yet found herself relieved with the promise of the moon’s incoming kiss. She knew no one else would be foolish to remain out in the forest once the sun’s warmth had departed.

She dared not let herself wonder what had happened for this creature to fall here, or why it had done so. As Revna moved to the rhythm of her breath, she uncovered more scales, spines, and eventually two crooked black feet, each with three hooked claws the size of her forearm. She took her sleeve in her fist, brushing it up against the thick coating of mud and dirt that encapsulated the claws. The slightest caress revealed their jet black colour, almost shining beneath the setting sun. As she leant forward to look closer, Revna noticed the faded green of something buried beneath the dragon’s belly. She reached her arm beneath the crooked legs, tracing the tip of her index finger along the bumpy lines of whatever lay below. Blood pounded heavier still in her ears and she became aware of a sudden restriction in her breathing. Surely it couldn’t be.

With the sun approaching the mountain tops, Revna rushed to uncover the green mystery beneath the dragon’s body before nightfall. She tore at the twigs, clearing them until the entire tail was free and she could see where the dragon’s claws met its legs, and its legs met its body. Shivers ran up her arms and neck as she tried to push the cold flesh and uncover the green object, but the body was too heavy. Determined, she thrust her hands downwards and began to dig, burrowing a hole beneath the dragon. The mixture of mud and sand from the creekbed was soft and fell aside easily. As the sun touched the tip of the mountain crest, Revna stopped. She clasped her hands around the green object and pulled it towards her, feeling it slide between the soft underside of the beast and the ground below. She withdrew it from beneath the dragon, holding it up to catch the last rays of sunlight. Surely this couldn’t be real.

An egg. A dragon’s egg.

The egg’s juniper green coating shimmered in the dusk, thick ridges protruding from its edges in sharp layers. It resembled almost a perfect teardrop, yet was rough to the touch. Revna placed it carefully against the tail beside her, conscious that she’d have time to examine this closer before the warmth of her hearth once the sun had set. Almost frantically, she kept digging, uncovering two more eggs from beneath the beast’s belly. Only once she was certain there were no more did she stop to take a breath. She needed to cover the dragon so no one else could find it the morrow's the daylight. This needed to remain her secret – no one else should see this until she figured out what it meant. The time she had spent carefully uncovering its corpse seemed to trickle away as she flung the dirt and leaves back over it, hiding its presence from all human eyes. Only she would know where to find it in the morning.

The sun had now gone. Only the faint remnants of its light would guide her path back home. Revna flung the contents of her satchel onto the ground; they seemed so unimportant now. Feathers, chicken feed, an empty pouch, parchment, and some shapely pebbles. Nothing that should merit taking the space of these eggs. She threw off her cloak, wrapping it around the second egg. No one would look at her twice with the cloak under her arm – it would appear as a bundle of clothes or preparations for a meal. Daring not waste any more daylight, Revna took the third egg into her other arm. She glanced back at the undergrowth hiding where the dragon lay and began to run towards the village, her legs struggling under the weight of the three eggs. Each of them were as heavy as a small child, but the adrenaline pumping through her body would keep her upright. She ignored the throbbing of the satchel as it pounded against her hip, focusing only on getting back to her home. As she ran, she veered east, pausing to stash the third egg in a thicket of brambles at the edge of the village. She nestled it beneath a large brushed bark tree, several paces from the village’s outer path. The density of the brambles covered it entirely, its beautiful juniper colour hidden beneath the browning leaves. No one would look here, and she’d be able to return as soon as she’d placed these two eggs at home. With one egg in the satchel and the other wrapped in her cloak, Revna began her walk through the village to her house. Her legs screamed for her to run, to burst into the hut and examine these properly, but she willed herself to appear calm. The blood continued to pound in her ears.

No one even spared her a glance as she approached her home. People were busy carrying their harvests for the day, or reeling in the clothes that they had laid out in the sunlight to dry. Only Revna’s eratic breathing would indicate anything unusual, but no one was idle enough to spare her a glance.

As she approached her hut, the faint wisps of smoke emanating from the chimney told her that Annora was home. A warm fire would be waiting for her and the precious eggs. The sun had now set and dusk was settling in.

Her arms were buckling under the weight of the second egg as Revna approached the door of her house. She struggled with the handle as she tried to balance the second egg, and pushed at the door. It swung open and Revna stumbled through, tripping as she entered. The egg fell out from her cloak across the ground, rolling to a rest in front of the fire.

Annora jumped from her chair by the fireplace and turned to Revna. Her thick skirts fell from her waist, swaying with the motion of her abrupt movement. Long curls fell caressed her face, stroking her high cheekbones and pointed jaw. Even in the immediacy of the moment, Revna couldn’t help but appreciate how beautiful her friend was. “What are you – ” Annora began.

“Close the door.” Revna gasped. “Now.”

Annora glanced at the egg, her eyes wide with confusion, and rushed to shut the door. She hovered for a moment, her ringed fingers pushing firmly against the wooden frame. The solid click of the handle slipping into place confirmed that it was close. Annora took a deep breath before daring to look again at what had landed on the floor. “Is that what I think it is?”

Revna nodded, pulling herself upright. The fire’s warmth made her realise how truly cold she was; her fingers were frozen from the digging and her pants were filthy from where she’d knelt in her ground. The balls of her feet were raw from the awkward running and her thigh throbbed where the satchel had pounded against her leg. She was exhausted, but there was too much to say to focus on that just yet. And there was still the third egg to retrieve.

“I found one,” Revna said, moving towards where the egg had rolled. “A dragon, I think. It’s out there, in the forest. Dead. But there were three eggs beneath it, and I had to bring them home.”

“Three?” Annora’s voice rang with incredulity. She moved towards Revna with precaution, but not fear. “How did you carry three of these without anyone seeing you?”

Revna shook her head. “I’ve just got two, we need to go back and get the third.” She pulled the cord of her satchel over her head and began to withdraw the first egg from the bag. “It’s just at the edge of the village, no one will find where I hid it, but I need to go get it now. Can you look after these?”

Annora crouched down and reached towards the first egg, placing her hands below Revna’s and pulling it into her own. “You’re freezing cold,” she said, her words trailing as she stared at the egg, holding it in awe. “Let’s warm you up and take a minute to catch your breath, we can get the egg soon.”

Revna nodded and stood up, walking towards the chair by the fireplace. Beside the chair was Annora’s goblet, full almost to the brim. Revna took a sip and began a nervous laugh. Now that she was within the warmth of their home, she realised how truly exhausted she was, and how overwhelmed she felt. “I have no idea what this means,” she exclaimed, her words catching in her throat. “I need your help. Surely you must know about these eggs. We need to know what breed they are, and what will happen to them.”

Annora didn’t return Revna’s laugh. She took the egg tighter in her arms, grasping it to her chest. The firelight cast a shadow over her eyes, and for a moment she appeared to glow, connecting the warmth of the fire and the cold of the egg. “I haven’t studied since I was a child,” she replied softly. “I never shared my mother’s magic, you know this. I remember her books though, and grandmother’s stories.”

Revna nodded. She picked the second egg from its resting point by the fireplace and brought it towards Annora, the goblet still in her hand. She sat beside her friend on the floor, placing the egg on her lap, and pressed the wine to Annora’s lips. A wave of calm seemed to wash over her face as she sipped the red liquid. The immediacy of the situation seemed to dissipate.

Neither of them spoke to Annora’s mother anymore. Whenever they did, trouble followed. She lived a few days' ride from the Valley, in a small shack nestled up the mountain. Her mother’s magic was accentuated after Annora was born, and she committed her life to experimenting and pushing her limits. Her grandmother had been alive the last time the dragons had lived in the Valley, but she had passed on many moons ago. Whilst she didn’t share her mother’s magic, Annora knew the stories. Revna withdrew the wine and placed it beside them on the floor. “What do you know?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Annora took a deep breath. “What did the dragon look like?”

“It was green,” Revna paused. “I think maybe even with a brown tinge, but it was covered in mud. The scales were large, and it had spines along its back – big ones, spaced perhaps a foot apart each. I’ve never seen anything as big as this, but I didn’t have time to uncover the whole body before dark set in, and I didn’t want to light a fire and draw attention. I only uncovered up to its belly.” She sucked on her lip, chewing lightly at the soft flesh. “And it only had two legs, each with three black claws the size of my forearm.”

Annora turned the egg, examining it closer within the firelight. Even beneath its dirty coating the juniper green shimmered, catching the fire’s rays and casting them across the walls. Its deep texture resembled aged bark, rough to the touch. One could almost cut themselves on the deep grooves that ran along the egg’s shell. They sat together in silence, accompanied only by the cracking of the logs in the fire and the rushing of the wind amongst the trees outside. Their eyes remained locked on the teardrop eggs before them.

“I think that they’re Wyverns,” Annora spoke finally, pulling the egg in closer to her again. “But I want to see the adult tomorrow in the daylight to make sure. The eggs are different though.” She paused to swallow, summoning the words to convey her thoughts. “They’re so cold, yet when I hug it, I can feel its warmth. It’s as though a heartbeat inside matches my own.” Annora’s eyes flicked from Revna to the egg on her lap. “Feel it.”

Revna pulled her knees closer, nestling the egg between her legs and her chest. She wrapped her arms around it, pulling the egg into her body. The pounding of her heartbeat was reciprocated in the egg. It started faint, but grew, resounding within her as she breathed. As the rest of the world began to fade away, she closed her eyes, swaying in time with the egg. It was cold to the touch, yet its warmth spread throughout her body, tingling at her fingertips and humming in her toes. She opened her eyes and stared at Annora, lost for words.

“My mother studied dragons, hoping that they would return,” Annora whispered. “Some dragons take human forms; others remain in their dragon form their whole life. But all dragons imprint on their mother, to identify a place of safety. The human ones can imprint on people, if they’re hatched by a human mother. They can form a bond. That’s why people have always chased dragons, but it’s impossible to get close enough to a brood mother to take her egg.” Annora shook her head, her brown curls bouncing against her cheeks. “It should be impossible.”

“And you think that these ones. . .”

“They must be,” Annora replied. “You can feel that warmth. I can feel the connection already. Dragon eggs can’t hatch without their mother – I remember reading that eggs can weather a human lifetime if they’re not hatched by a mother. But you can feel the heartbeat in these, connecting with us. There are children within these eggs, both human and dragon. They’re alive in our arms.”

Revna stared, neither at Annora nor the egg, just stared. If Annora was right. . . . she could hardly begin to comprehend what the implications of this would be. Surely they would help these eggs hatch – to be a mother to a dragon, to hold that responsibility. . . . and to hold that power. She could only imagine what people had done in the past with that power and felt herself shudder as she imagined kings ruling by fire, dictating their subjects with the power of a beast. These eggs could not fall into the wrong hands.

“There’s still one outside,” Revna startled. She stood, placing the egg on the ground. As soon the egg left her fingers, a sensation of cold returned to her, and the noise of the wind whirring outside seemed louder than ever. The absence of the egg’s touch felt as though she had lost something. The child in her arms was no longer hers. An overwhelming sense of purposelessness pushed at her mind, stabbing within her throat. All she wanted to do was protect this egg. She noticed Annora was still cradling hers. This sensation was shared.

“You need to go get it,” Annora nodded her head, her back slightly curled to wrap the egg closer to her body. “Before anyone else finds it. If someone like my mother – or anyone else in the village – were to find it, and identify it,” she shuddered. “We need to keep them safe."

Revna nodded and picked up her satchel, still strewn across the ground. She threw it over her shoulder and retrieved her cloak. The allure of the egg beckoned her, but she only dared give herself a moment to touch it before turning towards the door. The warmth poured into her fingers as she caressed the top of the egg. “Keep these two safe,” she warned. “Don’t let anyone in and lock the door behind me.”

Annora returned her friend’s smile as she shuffled closer to the second egg. “You know you need not worry. We will be fine.”

We.

The word resounded in Revna’s ears as she pushed open the door and thrust herself into the evening wind. It was as though these two eggs had already been born, had already committed themselves to their human mothers. Revna began to walk towards the village edge, her heart pounding with the anticipation of the new life that lay so close within reach. To mother a dragon, to care for it and raise it as her own. . . .

Before her husband’s death, she had once been with child. When the child was born lifeless, it took with it her strength, her soul. It became as though she merely existed within her body, moved within her flesh, but without the energy to understand the moments as they came. She hardly noticed when her husband died. It wasn’t anything heroic. He was taken by a winter’s chill, weakened by a fever that herbs couldn’t cure. He was the same as any other man in the village; he worked the land, he drank his fill, and he slept. They had married as soon as she came of age, but there was never any romance in between them. When the life of the child he’d promised her was taken away, their last bond broke and he died not long after. Revna moved in with Annora who had pledged to remain a maiden forever. She was raised by her mother and her grandmother before, and had never needed the company of a man to feel safe. Her independence had given Revna a fresh will to live. They’d remained together for years now, trusting each other wholeheartedly. Yet the prospect of a child to come from these eggs reminded Revna of what it felt to be complete.

Revna moved briskly through the empty streets, determined not to draw attention from within any houses. Her path was lit only by the faint stars above. The crested moon hung cautiously above the mountain ridges, watching from a distance. The valley was deep, wrapped between the mountains that towered on either side. Sunlight only touched the Valley for a few hours each day, with most of their time spent in a perpetual dusk or dawn. Growing up here, her eyes had gotten used to the dark. The light provided by the stars was enough.

Approaching the village edge, Revna slowed, glancing at where the stars above met the tree tops. She’d crossed no one, and the streets remained deserted as people retreated to the warmth of their hearths. The scent of stews and soups filled her nostrils as she walked. No one had noticed her passing by, and no one would see her now.

She stepped off the path and paced towards the brushed bark tree where she had laid the egg. It already seemed like hours ago had passed, although her perception of time had distorted as soon as she pressed the egg to her chest. She reached her hand out to touch the tree, feeling its silken bark run beneath her fingertips. She traced them down the trunk, crouching towards the thickets below. The moon’s light shone on the other side of the tree, and the stars didn’t touch the brambles beneath the cover of the thick leaves. Without the light to guide her, Revna felt at the bushes. The brambles caught on her fingers, catching in her skin. She moved around the tree, patting the bushes in search of the familiar ridged shell. Her heart began to quicken as she searched, her movements growing more frantic. She plunged her hands into the bushes, squinting her eyes to identify where the egg was nestled. It was here, she had placed it beneath this very tree. Yet it wasn’t here now. The brambles tore at her forearms, wrapping themselves around her elbows as she pulled at their stems. Panicking, she began to yank them out, freeing the brambles from their roots with her bare hands. The ground relinquished them with ease as Revna heaved and flung them away from the tree. She grasped and tore at them until the tree’s base was clear.

The egg wasn’t there.

Her heart echoed in her throat, each breath catching with a gasp. The egg was gone. It wasn’t here. She’d left it here, beneath the brushed bark tree. She was sure of that. No one could have found this, unless if they’d seen her place it down. And if they’d seen her, that would mean that they’d know where to find the other two.

“Annora.” Revna gasped. She let go of the last brambles in her hands and began to run. She leapt back onto the path and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, feeling the gravel stones flick up behind her. She saw only one person peer out at her from their doorframe, but didn’t spare them a glance as she focused on rushing home. The touch of their curious eyes remained on her until she veered a corner, reaching the street on which she lived. Smoke still blew from the chimney of her hut, and the faint red glow of the fire could be seen beneath the door. Revna flung herself against the wood, struggling with the handle. It was locked.

“Annora!” Revna hissed, hardly containing the rising panic that was bubbling in her throat. “Annora open it now!”

Footsteps thudded inside and the handle clicked before opening. Revna pushed in through the door and slammed it behind her, staring at Annora with frenzied eyes. “Is anyone here?” she demanded, looking around the hut. There was no one else to be seen. The two eggs were nestled together by the fire, placed carefully atop a bundle of cloaks and cloth.

“Of course not,” Annora replied, her eyes wide. “I locked the door, as you said. What happened?” Her eyes ran over Revna and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re bleeding.”

Revna glanced at her arms, bewildered. In the firelight she could see where the brambles had sliced at her skim. Long red lines ran up the length of her arms, thin streaks of blood trailing out from the cuts. “It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head. “The third egg is gone.”

Annora pressed her hand firmer against her face. Her rings pushed into her skin, nails clawing at her cheek. “What do you mean?” she asked, unblinking. “Did someone follow you, or see you?”

Revna shook her head. “I don’t know. If someone saw me, they would have come here for the other eggs. But it was gone, I hid it in the thickets on the edge of the village and now it’s not there, it's not there. There’s no way I misplaced it, it was there. I know there were three eggs, and I put it where it was safe. I –”

Her words were cut short as Annora rushed towards her friend, wrapping her arms around her. “It’s okay,” she said. “No one is here. No one knows we have these two. We can find out tomorrow where the third one is. If someone followed you, they’d know about the dragon as well. We’ll visit it tomorrow and find out what we can when the sun rises. But you’re alright. We’ve got two eggs, and we’ll keep them safe. Just breathe.”

Revna swallowed and inhaled deeply. She glanced over Annora’s shoulder, looking at the eggs in front of the fireplace. These two were safe. They would hatch, and she and Annora would take care of them. They would look for the third egg in the morning. Perhaps someone had found it by accident, and the whole village would know by nightfall tomorrow. But no one would know about these two eggs. They would protect them, and raise these children – these dragons – away from corrupt eyes. There hadn’t been dragons in the Valley for a long time, but this signalled a change. The beginning of the rest of their lives.