PatientZero

Not originally hailing from the kingdom of Hydatid, Zero sought refuge there when they had exhausted all other options. No cure. No respite. No mercy. Who wanted to stick their own neck out for a diseased dragon? Who wanted to open their homes and welcome in the contagion?

Zero had already witnessed their own family succumb to the pathogen, alone and afraid, they turned to plead at the doorstep of their last hope. A kingdom rumoured to be so infested with plague and rot that it carried a physical stench to it. Zero arrived at the gates of Hydatid and almost turned tail. The rumours were true; nothing but a seething pit of pustulating decay. Still, what other option did they have? They had to swallow down their revulsion and step within those outer curtain walls.

Mercy. Acceptance. Salvation. The kingdom was unlike anything Zero had expected. Rather than the distress and disgust they had been expecting, they had become accustomed to back at their prior home, instead they were met with empathy. Dragons missing limbs rebuilt their lives with wooden pegs or reforged it in steel. Those born with genetics abnormalities walked amongst the abled-bodied without scrutiny nor scorn. Curse, illness, and improperly healed injury were all accommodated for, all normalised.

For the first time since the parasite had taken up residence within Zero's body, they felt the fledgling dove of hope unfurl within their chest.

Perhaps there was a cure for them, perhaps these dragons here who had dealt with the worst of the worst and thrived despite it could save them. Even if not, even if Zero still succumbed to the writhing tendrils plucking along their spinal column in a sick mimicry of guitar strings, then at least they'd have a place to rest until their time came.

These dragons, as kind as they were, seemed the type to know when to put a sick dog down. Zero could sleep easy now with that reassurance. What a terrible, morbid thought to take comfort in.