Elros

Tenebrin's Curse
The father of this hatchling is Tenebrin the Arcanist and Alchemist, master of the physical magical arts. He made a deal with a demon to cure himself of the affliction of the pale coatls, a weakness and a sickness that affected most of the light coloured coatl population.
Curious to see how this affected his offspring, he took the beautiful Elanya as his mate, a pure white sickly creature who was truly afflicted.
Astonishingly, all of his children were born with the unnatural health that he obtained from his demonic deal.
Tenebrin was pleased, but he couldn't help but wonder if the price he paid for health and wellness would be exacted from them one day as well...

---

Midnight on the dot. That was the time that Elros would remember for the rest of his life.

Life was good for the Coatl, a hatchling verging on adulthood, still buried in a childhood without responsibilities. The clan was gentle with him, allowing him to race around their hollow with Neko, chasing the other Coatl with glee. Ever since Elros had found his way to his home, Neko had been practically glued to his back, a rumbling hum constantly slithering from his throat. From what Elros could figure out, it was a purr. The two were never seen apart, and had quickly become the darlings of the clan.

Tonight was no different; the lack of a visible moon inspired no fear in the Coatls as they careened about, romping through twisted brush and past whitewashed skulls. Neko in particular had always had a knack for skittering over the land as if it weren't there, leaping up the corpses of trees with ease. The Coatl did so now, scrambling up the remnant of a birch tree and clinging to the top branches, watching as Elros skidded to a stop below him.

"Come down," Elros wailed, peering up at Neko. "I can't get up!"

The cat-Coat giggled. "Too bad! It's nice up here."

"But I wanna play with you!" Flicking his tiny wings, Elros allowed a little growl to slide from his throat, though it was a poor imitation of the real thing. His clan didn't growl often, not in front of their children.

Up in his tree, Neko shook his head, bouncing on his branch. "Not coming down. You come up!"

"Okay, I can try. But if I fall, it's your fault, okay?"

"Okay," Neko purred, nodding. "But you're not gonna fall. Just dig in your claws and pull! It's easy."

"For you," Elros grunted, wobbling onto his hind legs. "My claws are tiny."

"You could just let them grow," Neko said, giggling again as his friend began to haul himself into the tree, latching on to the first branch he could. "They can get pretty big if you let them."

"I don't want them to get big, because I'd hurt you when we play!" Shaking his head at his friend, Elros pulled himself another branch up the tree, holding on for dear life. The ground was rather far away; he'd made the mistake of looking down.

"Are you sure this is safe...?" Elros squeaked.

"Yeah, totally!" Neko yelled. "And you can see everything from here!"

"O-okay..." Elros paused on his branch, feeling the thump of his heart in his chest. This was terrifying. He shouldn't have gone up the tree; Coatls weren't made for this. They were made for other things, like humming. Humming was good. It was nice when the clan hummed together, and he could feel the words in his chest. This tree wasn't good. This tree was bad.

Still, he continued his slow, nervous climb upwards, struggling towards the next branch, trying not to look down. Even the glimpses he saw from the corners of his eyes were too much.

"Neko..." Elros shivered, freezing on a branch as he caught more than a glimpse. The ground spiraled beneath him, the sleeping forms of his clan scattered below like insects. "I want down... I don't feel so good."

"Are you scared?" Neko taunted, crawling out to the end of his own branch. "Chicken!"

"I'm... I'm not scared!" Elros shrieked. His voice was high, pitching about like the flutter of butterfly wings. "You're scared!"

"Then come on," urged Neko, "higher! The top's right here. Unless you're a chicken?"

"I'm not a chicken!" Furious, Elros leapt up a branch, forcing himself to be less careful, take more risks. Branch to branch to branch, he rivaled Neko in speed, and his friend cheered him on as he went.

It only took one miss for things to go wrong. Later, he would remember it perfectly; the lunge upwards for a slender branch, his claw latching around it, the satisfaction. The sudden failure of his claws to hold on, the branch slipping from his grasp, Neko's yell as he plunged down, smacked into a branch, the speckles of blood glimmering briefly in the air before everything went dark and wrong, so wrong.

The clan woke instantly to the horrified screaming of a hatchling in a tree, staring down at the broken body of his best friend, watching the beginnings of a pool of blood seep into the ground. There was so much blood, so much among glimmers of bone and punctured skin, oozing out. They rushed to him, the medics shoving the others aside as they ran to do whatever they could. There wasn't much that was able to be healed, though; what does one do for a cracked skull but wait and hope that the brain is intact? All they could do was set his bones and wait, hope that he survived.

He remembered none of this, but he remembered the things they couldn't possibly know about. Elros remembered a flash of light, just beyond his claws, reaching for it only to suddenly fall downwards, screaming, grasping at the air for the second time that day as darkness engulfed him, plunged down his throat and choked the breath from his lungs, overtook him. He remembers the talon that stroked his chin, the voice that whispered to him of the unspeakable deeds of the past. "The sins of the father are the sins of the son," it said, laughing at him, mocking him. He watched loved ones die and come back, die again, watched Neko screaming his name as the healers tried to bring him back, saw it all.

And then breath returned to him, and light flickered once more as he vanished from the dark, gasping for air.

Something was wrong as he opened his eyes, Elros knew. Why was everything so fuzzy? Why was he so dizzy? Why did his head hurt so bad? Why couldn't... Was he being held down? He couldn't move. He couldn't move anything. He couldn't feel his body- oh, by the eleven, he couldn't feel his body. Where were his arms? Why couldn't he call for help? He could feel the pounding of his heart and the pain in his head, could blink to try to clear his vision, but speech and motion were suddenly wrenched from him. All that remained was blurred sight and distorted hearing, utter helplessness and utter fear.

He waited, mute and dumb, until a dragon's talon brushed over his forehead and smoothed his feathers, slow and gentle.
"The sins of the father are the sins of the son," they whispered, and he knew.

---

Elros is a peculiar dragon in many ways. Once, he was a happy hatchling, romping about with his best friend, Neko. Now, he's paralyzed from the neck down, unable to speak. His vision and hearing have been compromised, and he has no contact with the real world. Instead, he hears the demon his father made a deal with, sees their blurred face and feels their touch. The clan still takes care of him, despite being unable to communicate, and they hope to one day restore his movement to him.