Page 26 of Shade of Ruin

Cole stops at the edge of a large clearing. It’s just outside of the village and looks just as untouched as the rest of the village is. It’s covered in yellowed grass, scorched from the summer sun, with wildflowers standing tall and enjoying that same heat. Theysway in the soft breeze that carries the scent of the forest on it, a mesmerizing rhythm of hundreds of tiny flowers moving in sync. On the far side of it, there’s one more hidden cottage.

In the center of the clearing lies the drakeling. I’ve never seen a drakeling, nor has anyone ever explained what they are, but I would bet every bit of money I’ve ever had that the miniature dragon huffing and puffing is what Duncan was talking about. Not much bigger than a large hound, it looks furious. Crystals lay on the ground in a circle around the dragon, and two High Fae stand just outside the circle looking…surprisedby its anger.

They have a dragon. Not a very large lizard. Not any other number of things that a back country merchant would try to sell as a dragon. It flaps its wings and flames explode out of the scaled snout, but the flames stop abruptly at the edge of the circle of crystals. When the dragon gets only about eight feet in the air, it looks like it hits a brick wall. Its wings hit the magical barrier, and it tumbles to the ground.

“What have you done?” Cole mutters to no one as he shakes his head. “Don’t go near that circle,” he says to me.

“I may be a stupid Wyrdling, but I’m not that stupid,” I respond. At that, Cole gives me a grin, but then he crosses the clearing and moves toward the two High Fae.

These two must be Darian and Lee. Twins who happen to be Cole’s only friends. The only two people in the world that Cole has mentioned since I started traveling with him. Darian stands taller than Cole, though he’s thinner, and his shoulders aren’t as broad. There’s no doubt that, of the two of them, Cole is the warrior. He’s handsome, with a smile that I don’t think Cole could ever muster, but there’s a stark difference between handsome… and Cole.

In fact, he looks a little… unkempt? His russet brown hair isn’t exactly maintained, with several tufts poking out at odd angles. He sees Cole and the smile on his face only gets wider, notseeming to worry about maintaining his control over himself like Cole has been so focused on.

His clothes are even less cared for. While his light green wool tunic looks expensive, it’s heavily wrinkled. The sleeves are rolled up, and it’s bunched up in places under his belt. Sloppy compared to Cole’s almost innate ability to look presentable. Even after weeks on the road, he barely looks any different from the night I met him.

“A drakeling decided to eat some wards,” he says as we approach him. “Thought you might want to keep it.”

“Why would I want to keep a drakeling?” Cole replies, just as stiffly as he does with me. “How old is it?”

“Two years old,” Darian responds, seriousness wiping away all the giddiness he’d had a moment ago. “No sign of the rest of its brood, and drakelings should still nest together at two. It’s… odd.”

Cole sighs again. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Who can tell?” the female next to Darian says that I assume is Lee. She’s actually a touch taller than Darian, with long chestnut hair that she’s wearing in a tight braid. Seeing a female that’s taller than Cole is bizarre. Her movements are erratic, as though she has so much energy she can’t control herself.

She’s wearing nearly identical clothing as her brother, yet hers is immaculate. I think her chaos lies outside her clothing because when she starts talking, her bright green eyes flit from me to Cole to Darian, like the energy inside her is just bubbling over with nowhere to go.

They’re so different, yet the shape of their jaws and the look in their eyes are so similar. There’s no doubt that they’re siblings. Them being twins is hard to believe though.

“We followed the drakeling for two days, Cole. It slept by itself the entire time. No brood. No mother. I don’t know how long drakelings have been this affected, but that’s bad news.”

Cole nods, a very concerned look on his face. “What could have killed its brood and mother? Especially the mother? They’re basically impervious to everything that even a High Fae can do.” He frowns in thought, and while everyone stares at each other, I glance over at the drakeling and see it staring back at me.

It had been furious when we’d walked into the clearing. Roaring and spitting fire and trying to escape, but now it’s settled down. It’s hard to look away from the creature. I’ve spent enough time with animals to know that the drakeling is different. There’s intelligence in those beautiful shimmering eyes, and I can’t help but take a step away from the group.

The drakeling’s scales are a dull gray, but something inside me says that they should be a different color. Its small leathery wings are a mottled light gray that reminds me of birch bark, and when they move, I’d swear that I can hear them crinkling. In fact, the closer I get to the drakeling, the more I’d swear that it’s covered in birch bark rather than scales. Soft whites and grays with streaks of brown. Tiny pieces of what can only be horn protrude from its face and brows, yet they look like tiny branches.

I take another step toward the creature. And another. And another. I stop listening to Cole and his friends, far more interested in what can only be described as a baby dragon. I’d been afraid of it when I’d first seen it, but now that I’m looking it in its eye, there’s no fear.

This is not something I should be afraid of, but it also shouldn’t be caged.

This is adragon. Maybe it’s smaller than the ones that are written into history books. Maybe it’s never going to be any bigger, and it won’t be able to ravage villages, but it’s still a dragon. It’s still a creature made of magic.

“Stop!” Cole yells, and I barely hear him. My feet are moving, and there’s no stopping them. I need to see the drakeling. I need to be near it.

When I’m only a few feet away from her, I stop. I drop to my knees, and the drakeling and I stare at each other, our gazes locked. She’s gorgeous, but she’s so young. All alone in a world that is actively trying to keep her from being alive.

The world around us seems to disappear as I stare into her eye. I don’t hear the wind blowing down from the top of the hills or smell the pine boughs. I can’t feel the grass under my knees or the wildflowers brushing against my arms.

Instead, I’m watching a mother drakeling stare at a nest full of eggs. Seven shimmering scaled eggs that ripple with all the colors of the rainbow not much larger than a goose’s egg. Colored just like the drakeling’s eyes. She’s as large as a wolf, but she feels old. So much older than I can even imagine. Hundreds of years have passed in her lifetime, and this is the first clutch of eggs she’s ever laid.

She can feel every one of them dying. Her scales are dusty, barely glowing like they should. There’s no power in the world for her to feed on anymore. And those eggs… unlike the she-drake, they won’t survive starving as she has.

Every one of them will die. Hours from now, they’ll be gone. Their spirits will return to the void between realms. The she-drake is stubborn, though. She nuzzles each of them, taking in their scents through the hard shells. Getting to know each of them, even if they’ll be gone in a few hours.

She looks around at the hill she’s roosted on for so many hundreds of years. The same views over the river below. This has been her home for as long as she can remember. Tonight will be the last night she’ll see it.

The she-drake isn’t strong enough to give all her clutch the chance to experience the world like she has. She’s too weak and hungry. But she can save one of them.

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