Trick

His name was given to him by neither parent nor clan. Since he'd left the clan of his parents, he'd roamed lawlessly, doing as he pleased. Those who'd experienced the misfortune of being the center of his attention, even for a short while, were the ones who bequeathed him his true name: Trick. For that was what he liked to do—play tricks, be it on monster or dragon, a single individual or a whole clan—no one was too good or too bad for his games.

And that was how Trick found himself stalking—no stalking was too strong a word—observing this hulking hunk of a guardian through the scraggly branches of a tree (all the trees in the Ashfall Waste looked like this, stumpy and blackened and already dead for all that mattered). Messing with other minds was fun, but it was getting a little old. Completely usurping the order of a clan though—turning it inside out and maybe destroying it in the process—now that was new. And Trick always liked a challenge.

In his travels through the Ashfall Waste, Trick had come to learn of a particular clan that took in the misfits, the odd, not quite right members of a litter and gave them a home. An authority to follow, more like. Not only would Trick be unleashing a new form of chaos upon the Ashfall Waste by liberating the members of this clan (and he licked his lips at the thought), but they would thank him later.

With that thought, he sprang his plan into action. Uncurling from the tree, he glided, silent as a wraith, onto the path the guardian would take in just a few minutes. For nearly a week now, he'd been observing this dragon, and knew its route by heart. In a large, gnarly tree chosen specifically for this purpose, he'd hung a rope, and when he slipped through the opening, he looked, for all intents and purposes, stuck.

Now for the humiliating part. As much as it hurt his dignity to do this, he opened his mouth and let loose a series of cries, the kind helpless hatchlings made when calling for their mother (it was also a surefire way to attract predators, but the guardian was close enough to reach him first if anything happened, he'd made sure of that). In case the guardian didn't come to "rescue" him, he had a backup plan, but he was confident it wouldn't come to that. Guardians were naturally protective dragons, and few would be able to ignore a helpless hatchling caught in a tree.

Sure enough, the guardian came crashing through the undergrowth only seconds later. Trick smirked inwardly to himself. Got you.

The guardian blinked up at him worriedly. "Are you alright?" He called.

Trick forced out a sob. "Bad dragons attacked my clan and killed my papa and mama and hung me up here! Please mister, won't you untie me?"

Without a second thought, the dragon flew up, and with one swipe of his claw, sliced the rope cleanly in half. Before Trick could fall, however, he'd caught him, bundling him gently with the same claws that had shredded through thick rope.

As soon as they alighted on the ground, the guardian spoke to him in a gentle voice: "Do you have anyplace to stay?"

Trick shook his head, eyes welling up with fresh, fake tears.

"Then you can remain with my clan for as long as you choose. We will give you a new home and family, if you will allow us."

Trick nodded eagerly, allowing a hint of awe to seep into his gaze. All part of the plan, he reminded himself. "Are we going there now?" He asked excitedly.

The guardian nodded, a soft look in his eyes.

Trick pointed imperiously at his back. "Can I ride your back while we go?" He asked.

The guardian rumbled with laughter. "Of course," he assented.

Trick scrambled eagerly up, situating himself on the back of the guardian's enormous neck. "Let's go!" He declared impatiently.

With one flap of his huge, leathery wings, the guardian lifted off—and Trick struck, wrapping himself tightly around his rescuer's neck, winding his body tighter and tighter in order to cut off airflow. It was a move he'd used before to kill many larger opponents, and had never failed him.

Until now.

Without warning, the scales under him suddenly glowed red hot, and Trick yelped. He couldn't unwind himself fast enough, and barely managed to avoid an enraged swipe as it was. Grimacing, he looped a safe distance away, glaring back at the guardian from this new vantage point. So this was how it goes, huh? Fine. Trick could do things the hard way.

Trick watched coolly as the guardian took a moment to recover, coughing and spluttering as he regained the air in his lungs. When he did, the look he shot Trick would have made a lesser dragon tremble. "Why did you do that?"

Trick didn't even bother to look abashed. “Because I’m bored,” he replied simply. As the guardian continued to look at him with incredulous eyes (they all wore those eyes, eyes that didn’t understand him and his games and never would), Trick suddenly shot towards the larger dragon, darting around claws at least twice the size of his head to rake his own down his opponent’s soft belly.

The guardian roared, but Trick had already maneuvered out of the way, his small size proving the greater advantage when it came to agility and movement, especially in the air. Dispassionately, he watched his opponent stagger mid-flap and observed a few blood droplets rain down the sky.

As if steeling himself, the older male suddenly drew up his chest, and from his mouth came…a stream of fire? Laughing, Trick dodged each one. “Is that all you’ve got?” he jeered at the flames around him.

Suddenly, claws gripped his wings, shredding them, and Trick shrieked in terror and pain as he and and his opponent—had he just jumped straight through his own flames to attack him? Trick had never seen a dragon, fire or otherwise, do that before—plummeted towards the ground below. Cringing, Trick waited for the inevitable impact, but it never came. Opening his eyes (he didn’t even notice he’d closed them), he watched the guardian’s wings beat above them both, stirring up dead leaves on the ground. And yes, they were near the ground—only several inches above, actually.

Trick swallowed his fear to grin up at the older male. “Can’t kill a hatchling?” This was said in the voice he’d used to call for help. “How awfully ******* noble of you.” This was said in his normal voice.

The guardian cringed, obviously unused to hearing two such different voices issue from the same dragon. “Who made you this way?” he asked, pain evident in his tone.

Trick threw his head back and laughed. “No one,” he replied. He laughed harder. “No one! Looking for someone to blame, are you? Well let me tell you something—you have no one to point fingers at but myself! All of you," here Trick had to physically restrain himself from shaking with anger, "wouldn't understand even if I told you, so just know that I love games and you can’t stop me from having my fun!” This last statement was punctuated with a hiss as he snapped at his captor's limbs in an effort to free himself.

Suddenly, pain exploded in the back of his head, and as he felt his vision fade he managed to slur out the words kill you to the older dragon.

The last thing Trick saw before he passed out was the troubled but determined gaze of the guardian.