Deathsinger

As you move closer to the cluster of hatchlings, you notice a dragon sitting in a tree far above them. You can hear her voice clearly, once you focus on it, and it sounds like she’s telling a story, an adventure. It’s been a long time since you heard one of those, since your own hatchling days, all those years ago, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia.

These days, all you tend to hear for the little ones is tooth rotting fluff, nothing suitable to raise a kid up to fight, to hunt.

Not that voicing your opinion on that in the past has ever earned you points.

Still, the story draws you closer, like a moth to the flame. It brings back good memories, and once the story is done, you hope to be able to talk to the little dragon telling it.

"...And with a thunderous roar, the great dragon leapt upon his enemies, vanquishing them once and for all. He climbed the slope out of the cave, and felt sun on his back for the first time in weeks, so he sat down to feel it's warmth, breathing a sigh of relief..."

It isn't one you've heard before, so maybe she has more. It would be nice to have some darker stories for your next clans hatchlings, or at least ones that don't give diabetes.

"His respite was not meant to last though, for after just a few moments, he spied a bright green Guardian traveling up the path, and hailed them a hello. It would seem the clan needed him yet again to fight some evil. He felt like he deserved a bit of time to recover from any injuries, but as the strongest and oldest of the clan, it was his duty to protect them from every danger, no matter his own health..."

Just then, a call came from the trees, and several hatchlings look up, to see you standing there. You can’t do anything but freeze in place, and hope that none of them are frightened of you.

It doesn’t seem to matter though, as the call sounds out again, and the little ones are off like a shot, barreling down a pathway you hadn’t seen before, calling goodbyes to the dragon in the tree.

She doesn’t seem to care that her story was interrupted, or that you crept up on them. She likely saw you from a mile away, but you can’t help but feel a bit contrite.

“Hello there young one. Why don’t you sit down, so I can tell you a tale?”

Not knowing what else to do, you follow her request, and settle down on the soft grass that the hatchings had vacated. Despite being high in the trees, her small stature was unintimidating, and she held herself at rest, putting you slightly at ease.

“A long time ago, there lived a young hatchling, midnight black in appearance. Small, frail, different from the rest, not really accepted but tolerated.”

With a start, you realize that the description matches you perfectly. But how did she know?

“Eyes a different color from the rest, not born of anyone in the clan. An outsider, through and through. Perhaps an egg placed in someone else’s nest, or a hatchling abandoned on the outskirts of her native land, it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t fit. After all, all the dragons around her, all the other hatchlings, they look different, act different. They can get along, but not the little lost dragon, so very far from home.”

Wait… was she telling her own story? Or yours? It’s very hard to tell, but there was no way she could know that much, because you hadn’t told anyone but the first few clans about how lonely it was to be so different from the others.

“In the end, it wasn’t long after reaching maturity, after failing to fight and learn like the others, that she requested to move, that she requested to live somewhere else, and no one raises a protest. Perhaps the lack of a fight to keep her is the most telling bit of all.”

There hadn’t been a fight that first time, had there, and not the subsequent times either.

“Over the long years, she hops, skips, jumps between different lairs, different potential homes, each time finding reason after reason that she doesn’t belong. Perhaps being the only one of her breed, too small to join hunts, too rambunctious, and too quiet, all the reasons I the world to not fit in, each and every time. Until…”

She leans forwards, towards you, and you can’t help but follow suit, stretching out to listen to her closer.

She gets quiet now, almost a whisper, like it’s meant to be a secret, and you strain your ears to hear.

“One day, she gets invited to this clan, one of the first to arrive, and thrives. A home, for anyone that wishes it, and many who aren’t searching at all. A place to tell her stories that she picked up through the years, tell tall tales of the places she’s been, the things that she has seen. And it’s true, that many come and go, not all stick around, some have better places to be, but they still feel happy while they are here, still feel the warmth of the clan, and feel happiness.”

She sits back then, a soft smile on her face. She looks content, happy even.

Its then that a large bird flies over head, and lands on the branch next to her.

“Mortis? Does little Silver need something?”

It shake it’s head, before peering down at you. It’s eyes pierce into you, like it’s judging, and you try not to come up short. You had almost forgotten that you would have to impress the familiars as well.

“Well, I must be off regardless, little one. If you wish for more stories, you only have to ask where I am. Deathsinger is the name. And I hope that you truly do fit here. It will be nice to exchange stories with someone who understands.”

And with that, she takes off, souring through the air and away from you. Her familiar, Mortis, from what she said, stays for a moment, to continue to look at you. IT nods once, and then takes off, following the dragon, leaving you to wonder about the events of the last hour.

Maybe you can fit in here. Only time will tell.













This dragon rests on a tree branch, above a small group of hatchlings, not all of which seem to be from this lair. She seems to be telling stories, and has a nice voice, considering how small she is. Her words carry farther than you expect, and you catch the tail end of a story, much more like the old sagas you heard as a child than the tales preferred nowadays.

"...And with a thunderous roar, the great dragon leapt upon his enemies, vanquishing them once and for all. He climbed the slope out of the cave, and felt sun on his back for the first time in weeks, so he sat down to feel it's warmth, breathing a sigh of relief..."

It isn't one you've heard before, so maybe she has more. It would be nice to have some darker stories for your next clans hatchlings, or at least ones that don't give diabetes.

"His respite was not meant to last though, for after just a few moments, he spied a bright green Guardian traveling up the path, and hailed them a hello. It would seem the clan needed him yet again to fight some evil. He felt like he deserved a bit of time to recover from any injuries, but as the strongest and oldest of the clan, it was his duty to protect them from every danger, no matter his own health..."

A call came from the trees, and several hatchlings looked up in alarm. A giggle escapes you as you see them do their very best to stay, wanting to hear more of the story. You would probably do the same in their position, but right now you have the chance to talk to the little dragon all on her own. Or at least, you would, until a large black bird swoops down, and lets out a large caw, and a new group of older dragons sits beneath her branch. They all wait there for several minutes, not seeming to move, other than to breath, when...

"Join us young one. Complete our circle so I can sing my song. It won't be long, and you are sure to enjoy it."

She's staring straight at you, and it's very creepy. And that's before the other dragons start looking at you too. Deciding that being stared at while in the open is preferable to being stared at while partly in a bush, you move to join them. The ground is surprising comfortable as you sit, though it makes sense to be. The small dragon looks at you from the corner of her eye, and seems to smirk, making you frown a bit. What could she have in mind?

"Though we have a new member, I would like to continue in the normal round. You have waited quite a while for your next poem, and you have earned it. I'm sure you can teach them how this works."

Poem? That threw you off just enough that you aren't sure you heard what came after that. The bird was unsettling, and the staring, and now it seems that there's a whole cult thing going on out in the open, and on one is concerned. Unless this is just initiation, and the entire clan is a cult? The whole thing just seems off.

"No need to worry. This is no cult. Just lessons from my life. I hope you enjoy it."

With that, she starts to sing:

How well do you know your friends
How well do they know you
If you were to die
Would they morn a day or two

Or would they simply shrug
And go about their day
Or even worse
Would they find a way to celebrate

You think you know the answer
Without a single doubt
But in the end those thoughts of yours
They don't have much clout

Much better to be sure
That no one can betray
Never let them close
In any single way

But it's to late
If you've gave your heart away
And to such foolishness
I have something to say

Perhaps be much more careful
Of parasitic worms
And don't enter into contracts
Without reading all the terms

I did such a thing
When I was foolish and was young
It was the type of thing
About which songs should not be sung

Heed my words you younglings
Take lesson from my tale
Make sure that you follow it
Before you cross the veil

You stare at her in shock. That was not what you expected. Though, considering you were thinking this was a cult, that was a good thing.

"As always, I took a few liberties to keep the meter and the rhyme. Now, think, and tomorrow, tell me what you think."

The other dragons get up, and leave the circle, walking into the trees, probably back home. Eventually, it's just you and her. The bird from before lands beside you, and nuzzles your leg. it somehow calms you a bit.

"Thanks for not running. I saw your interest in the children's tales, but I thought you might like my other work too. And Mortis seems to like you, so that's another plus in my book. If you want to share stories, I'm here everyday, and you can bring any children you want to listen. The more the merrier, as they always say."

She has a big grin on her face, and it completely breaks the ominous image she had just moments ago. It's startling just how much of a change it was. Maybe she could be an actor.

The bird caws, and her face crumbles.

"I forgot about the meeting, didn't I? Sorry about that, but I really need to go, I sorta forgot something really important. By the way, my name is Deathsinger. Yes I know how ridiculous it sounds, Dad's choice, bye!"

She zooms off like a rocket, leaving behind her chuckling bird, who's name is apparently Mortis. After a while, it calms down, and looks at you, right in the eye. It then nods once, and flies off, leaving you behind to wonder about the events of the last few hours. Things might be more interesting nowadays, and that doesn't seen all that bad.



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