Saphire's story

[venom-dragon7799]

Saphire's Story

One would think that living in an egg would be incredibly boring. At the very least one would wonder what could possibly occupy a mind while in such a state. But to the little dragonness inside this particular egg, life was good, life was rich and warm. The shell completely surrounded her, and even though she could not see outside of it, she knew by the warmth that she was not alone.
Eventually, however, the shell became too tight for her, and she realized that the time had come to leave its safety. Using the very tip of her snout, she pecked a small hole in the egg. She had not expected it to be cold, but compared to the warmth that had been with her before, even the fiery air of Dralk was slightly chill.
The dragonness thought again of her plan to come out of the shell and tried to grab the dislodged piece with her tiny teeth and pull it back in place. She felt a slight tugging, not harsh, but rather very gentle, and the piece of shell came out of her mouth. The little dark blue dragon now had an excellent view of a singular silver eye, just outside the shell.
"Oh you are such a beautiful blue," a female dragon's voice said. "Same color as I am."
The tiny hatchling didn't understand a word of it, but felt somewhat reassured. The voice was familiar slightly. She'd heard it many times through the shell of her egg. Now, though, it was much more clear, and to the little one, much more lovely.
"Come on out, my little gemling, my little Saphire." the voice coaxed.
Not knowing exactly what was meant, but feeling slightly encouraged, Saphire pecked out another small piece of shell and then another and another. Eventually, wet and exhausted, she used her feet to break out of the bottom half and free herself at last. The voice had continued its encouragement the whole time.
Just as she feared, it was cold. But that soon changed as the large dragon beside her gently pushed her between her two front claws and began washing over her hatching with her warm and somehow drying tongue. The mother was the same color as the daughter, only with silver highlights. Saphire closed her eyes and rested, enjoying being surrounded by warmth once again. She slept briefly and dreamed of being in her egg still, with the warmth all around her.
When she awoke, her mother still was standing watch over her, and the feeling of coldness was gone. She arose slowly on slightly shaking legs and began to wander the chamber her mother and her were in. Saphire went first to one end then the other. She stopped before her mother and sniffed the dry smell of her mother's scales. Then she turned and began sniffing about the cave.
The mother's heart tore when she realized that her hatchling was looking for others. So young and already wanting to meet others of her kind. The words that the mother spoke were not understood by the tiny hatchling, but the tone in the voice was enough for her to realize that her search was, though she didn't know why, pointless.
"Your father was a brilliant yellow dragon. Helian." she spoke the word with some measure of disgust. "He left, just as your brothers and sisters did all in their own time. They never returned."
Not long after, as Saphire learned to speak, fight, and hunt, she would ask again after her family and receive the same answer. Repeated the second time, word for word, it would echo always in her heart: the bitter edge of it all seeming to tear through scale, muscle, bone, and soul. "They never returned."

Saphire only ever knew her as her mother. It was more than just a name that she called the older dragon by. It was a title: one with deep meaning and with plenty of worship behind it. There was never a time as a hatchling when Saphire doubted her mother's love for her.
From her the blue hatchling learned all that a young dragon needs to know. She learned the powers of flame, tooth, claw, and even primal. She learned the principles of the hunt, and learned the value of love and being loved.
Once her mother was confident of those abilities, she told her daughter that the time had come for her to truly hunt.
"What will we hunt Mother?" Saphire asked. "I heard there are some wolves and golems not too far from the city. One of the guards was telling me about them."
Her mother laughed quietly. "Oh no, Saphire. We'll start with things that will teach you how to hunt without putting you at too much risk."
"But we're Gifted, Mother. What risk is there?" the little dragonness returned boldly.
"Risk that I might see my little gemling hurt." her mother returned while gently nuzzling her daughter cheek to cheek. "I'll take you to New Brommel, and help you learn more there."
New Brommel turned out to be a small dwarven outpost on a distant island. While the Blight had made some attempt to enter the land, it was far enough away from the Withered Aegis as to be fairly week. Many of the newly Gifted came there to hunt and Saphire saw many hatchlings similar in age to herself.
At one point she saw a majestic emerald green dragon fly over the small town. While the place was not really crowded, there was a general feeling of excitement. Here the Gifted were often sent to learn the first things they would need to know in the long battle against the forces of the Withered Aegis.
Mother walked with her daughter to right outside the town gates and a little past a guard post. The guard there nodded lazily as they passed. It seemed to the young dragon that the guard wasn't as vigilant as the ones in Dralk. It didn't occur to her that her home city was in much greater danger than New Brommel.
Just past the guard they encountered what looked like a white bag made of rough leather. Her mother stopped her and said, "Ok little one. Claws out. Claw it, bite it, flame it. And remember to cast that breeze spell I taught you."
Saphire ran up to the white bag, wondering why her mother would want her attack something like this. They didn't need to go all the way to New Brommel to attack a stuffed sack. That's what she'd been training on while in Dralk. But the little dragon did want to make her mother proud, so she gave a vicious growl and tore her claws across the leather flesh.
She would have realized that what she was attacking was living just by the way the flesh tore open and exposed a soft and white fatty material that didn't bleed. But she was too pre-occupied to notice the results of her first attack. The "bag" had turned around and sent out a set of claw like mandibles that shot forth from what might have been it's mouth. The jaws scratched and startled the little hatchling. She jumped back and squealed. But she wasn't startled enough to forgot what her mother had taught her.
While the mandibles were still out-stretched, she took a quick bite at them, regretting it almost immediately as a foul, almost rotten taste filled her mouth. She released it quickly and it again thrust out towards her, but missed.
Since her mouth was so close to the maggot, she reared back slightly and let loose a breath of flame. It looked like it barely hurt the creature, as despite the flame the mandibles again reached out, this time cutting her on the shoulder.
Rearing up again, Saphire began chanting and waving on claw above the other. At one point, the maggot was able to cut her again, this time, at her exposed chest, but she continued her casting. The breeze spell took effect and she felt for a moment like she was in flight. Her wounds began to close.
Another attack with her claws and white matter splattered all over the young dragon as her prey fell dead to the ground. Saphire giggled. "Do they always do that when they die, Mother"? she asked.
"I suppose so. What's so funny?"
"It made a big mess. Come on mother, let's get more."
The young dragonness began running from maggot to maggot, delighting in the kill and the ability to hunt. It was in her blood to be a huntress, and the added excitement of how the maggots died was exhilarating to her. They moved further and further from the town.
After a little while, Saphire even learned to stun the creatures, by turning and hitting them hard with her tail.
Her mother was impressed. "You're doing so well, gemling." But her voice trailed off, her eyes peering only a short distance from them. Saphire looked to where her mother was staring. A group of humans, four men and two women, wearing rough clothes and gripping the pommel's of their swords, were standing before a sign. The men's heads were shaven, and they all wore bright gold necklaces around their necks.
"Recall to home, Saphire. Quickly." The Mother dragon said with a frightened tone in her voice.
"Why?" Saphire asked, not perceiving the danger. One of the women began chanting a spell.
"Just do it!" her mother returned as she began casting her more powerful version of Breeze.
The little dragonness trusted her mother and so began the spell that would take her back to Dralk. Halfway through though, she found that she could no longer move.
"Don't bother with the hatchling." one of the men screamed to the woman who had cast the spell. "Greer only wants an adult, and that's enough to worry about." His sword was in his hand as he prepared to do battle with the dragon. Two men and the other woman were close behind him with their swords already out. The fourth man seemed to be some kind of healer, and the woman, a wizard or mage of some kind.
Saphire watched in horror as her mother bravely fought to defend her daughter. The mother dragon's claws and teeth seemed to be all around her and her fire was hot enough to brighten the landscape at noon. There were many ways of attacking that Saphire had never seen before. The mage sat back casting a long and complicated spell. Saphire?s mother tried to get back to where the healer and mage were, but was blocked on all sides by the swords of the humans around her.
At last the mage stopped chanting and threw some kind of powder into the air that surrounded the adult dragon, who swayed slightly from the effect. "It's done!" the mage shouted. "Her gift to recall, can't save her now."
With that the terrified and motionless Saphire was forced to watch the small group of humans slowly and viciously kill her mother.
As the mighty dragonness went down, the six humans raised their weapons and hands into the air shouted. "Victory for the Cabal. Greer will triumph!"
?Now what?re we supposed to do with the hatchling?" The first man was saying to the mage. "Greer doesn't need a hatchling. We were told to bring in the larger game."
The mage turned and struck him across the face. "You idiot! Leave the hatchling to run to Dralk or Chiconis and get help? That?s why Greer didn't trust you to lead this and put me in charge. Use that space between your ears for something other than keeping them apart."
The man looked like he wanted to say something back, but was sufficiently cowed. Another man timidly asked, "But what can we do with it now that we have it?"
The mage smiled, ?We will make money for Greer's Cabal. There are still people who will pay a healthy price for a captured hatchling."
"That's illegal." One of the men answered and the other five humans all turned to look at him.
"It's not like we'll sell it at the bazaar in Tazoon, you fool." The healer answered. "The black market is the only market we deal with."

They caged her in such a small area that she could not stand to cast, fight or recall. Greer himself purchased the hatchling, hoping that he might be able to raise it to fight for him. He paid 500 silver to his hirelings. "I'd give you more, but this one's obviously not too strong. It's been crying since it got here."
The tears lasted a long time, although Saphire didn't know for how long. She grieved for her mother and for herself. Slowly though, so slowly that the humans around her didn't notice the change, her melancholy turned to rage. The tears continued to flow, but soon they were no longer tears of pain, but tears crying out for vengeance.
The humans around her had become complacent. They figured that with how listless the little dragon seemed most times, that all they needed to do was keep it underfed and it would stay complacent. But it wasn?t the dragonness that was becoming complacent, it was the humans themselves.
Finally their complacence was enough for Saphire to affect her escape. One day, the mage from so long ago had stopped in and tossed a small piece of meat, no bigger than her thumb, into the cage. As she opened the top of the cage to drop the meat in, Saphire was ready. The hatchling jumped up and began recalling to Dralk. The startled mage tried to stop her, but could not get her spells off fast enough.
Saphire could feel her body and spirit being pulled away, and knew that soon she would be safe.
As the comforting sight of the dragon city of Dralk began to materialize around her, she heard the startled voice of Hezelerius, the ambrosia vendor, from behind her.
"Saphire?" he said suddenly. "Saphire? It's been at least two years. Where's your mother?"
The hatchling cried and cried. As others came and heard her story, they believed those tears were for her lost mother, and they were right. But they also came from a heart that burned with the destructive fires of vengeance and hate for the human race.
No amount of tears or water, could ever quench that flame.

[Royal]

*blinks a tear away