Akitla

Cover the eyes...they're...they're not right. They say it's alright, but it isn't, it just isn't. They say not to worry, that it's just because of where they called her back, but she remembers, remembers back then when it was just the two of them. Nothing else mattered, even when they were drifting lost out in the nowhere, because they were together...but no, that wasn't her. She was only a copy of that dragon, a collection of memories put into a body. She wasn't A--she wasn't her. She had the same name, the same colors, the same memories, but that wasn't her, and no one understood why she couldn't bear it.

Niran, he was a copy too. She thought maybe he might understand, given that he had a more perfect copy of himself walking around too, and he was just a copy himself! He said it didn't matter, that "we know who we are." No, she didn't. That was the point! How could there be multiples of the same person walking around? Was she the only one who wasn't bothered? Did he really not recoil whenever he caught sight of himself in a reflection?

Everyone was so kind. She couldn't fault them for that. They told her that she was perfect just the way she was. It was their fault, not hers, so if you're upset at anyone... No, she didn't want to blame anyone for this. It was her fault she felt this way, her fault she couldn't move on. She didn't want her distress to turn into resentment...so she left.

Hide the fur, as much as you can. Too many knew about her, too many asked questions. She became a traveler, a wanderer without a home. She left behind a letter, she hoped it would explain everything, even though she could barely explain it to herself. She had to have something that was herself, memories that were hers and hers alone. She only hoped that this would pay off and the strange curse that came along with her name would fade if she only ignored it. Let someone else be that Akitla. Even though it was all she knew, she would be someone else.

It was easier said than done. Without her past she was nothing, and that hollowness was as terrible as her earlier distress had been. This was a mistake. She couldn't bear being Akitla, but if she wasn't Akitla, then she was no one. No name she gave herself stuck, no backstory resonated or inspired a direction. She merely moved from place to place, a ghost with a heartbeat. And oh, how that heart ached. A strange being of mysterious origin though she was, she was in a Tundra's body and a Tundra ought never to be alone like this. She couldn't go home, and she couldn't keep wandering. One day, this imperfect Akitla simply...stopped.

She stood like a statue, completely still. If she hadn't been breathing, those passing her by might have thought she was dead on her feet. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, and she prayed she would forget and let blissful ignorance claim her. Locked in her own mind, she replayed the entirety of her life, even the parts that weren't truly hers. She remembered traveling the void with Niran, the voice that pulled her into the real world once more, the feeling of taking that first breath of dry, dusty air. She recalled seeing her face for the first time in an oasis pool to cool her parched throat, meeting those pale blue eyes...realizing she was wrong.

"Mother?"

Akitla emerged from the depths of her mind, her muscles stiff. How long had she been standing here? And who was--

Her heart skipped a beat.

She and Niran had born a clutch. It was one of the first things that they did, so overjoyed at their rebirth into the world that they reveled merely in being alive. Her little ones...they emerged with the patterns of the cosmos in their fur, which shouldn't have been possible. It was because they had so freshly been pulled from the nether when they had sired, they were told, after all don't you recall how you looked just after we called you out? To be safe, the hatchlings were separated from them so soon after they were born, and they spent very little time together. Still, Akitla remembered. She may have had to keep her distance, but they were her babies and she loved them with all the ferocity in her heart. Then, just when it became clear that despite their mutations they were healthy and whole, they were gone. Off to make their lives, she was told, and she tried to believe it.

By the time she could bear a nest again her heart had become too sick. Even if she could raise these little ones full-time, she wouldn't be able to give them the care she needed. She pulled away from Niran and the others and withdrew into herself. Now, she was suddenly drawn out.

This was her baby. She knew him at once. It was Yaasai, her little boy. She could barely believe it. She held him close for a very long time, and he brought her home. She was still lost and uncertain, still haunted by her memories and knowledge of what she was, but she would never be alone again. She would stay by her son's side forever, learning to cope with being Akitla.