a reflection of + innocence +

W e l c o m e . . .

Teska had dreamed of the day often. That she would wake up in the morning to see the egg hatching, or she would come home at night and when she was reading or working, she would see it hatch. A dozen, or at least two dozen scenes had gone through her mind, and she had discarded all of them, deciding only to wait for the day and see what it was that the dragonet would bring her.

Each of those scenarios had held a moment when she watched the hatchling… hatch.

What she had not been expecting, was…

“Shy says that you’re going to hatch soon. I hope so, because I don’t know how long I can take. He says, that because you’re egg is harder, it means the date is coming. Hurry up. What happens if your egg gets too hard that you can’t hatch?”

She had been having a stressful day. At Shy’s insistence, she had started to drop her duties as a rooms manager and had instead started to attend candidate classes. Not, because she wanted to be a candidate, but because they taught basic, rudimentary theory that she would need as a flight coordinator. Officially, you had to be picked. But everyone knew that Naeodin was just waiting for her to be able to ride.

“I’m supposed to go eat with some friends tonight, but I’m so paranoid that you’ll…” she stopped, placing her bags on a counter top. She had installed a small kitchen into the room, and it was more convenient than she gave credit for. “…hatch without me.”

‘With you stop talking so much?’ The voice, like any dragon’s voice came through her mind. But was different. It was slick, cool and she felt something soft skim through her head, as if wondering who it was that he was talking to.

And what ever else she was carrying, fell to the ground.

“You—you—you…” she spluttered, half glad that no one was there to see how much she had lost it. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the tiny hatchling in front of her. For a moment, she couldn’t talk as she took in that gleaming, luminescent form. “You’re…”

‘Hatched?’ the hatchling asked. ‘It’, was a male, defiantly male especially with that slightly curious, boyish tone. ‘I guess so.’

Teska looked around the room rapidly. She knew how dragons worked, kind of. She knew enough to know that he must be starving by now. Especially if he’d been hatched since… “When?” she asked, not paying attention to the hatchling as it waddled/strode over to watch her.

‘Just a while ago.’ He said, and sat down, plonking at her feet in the most inconvenient area and watched her fret. ‘Starving.’ He commented.

Teska snorted. If anyone, anyone heard about how this had happened… well, she was never going to live it down. And she didn’t know what she was going to do about any of it either. Was it starving? Was he going to start suffering from some kind of malnutrition?

“Found it.” Half with relief, half with annoyance that it had been in the most obvious spot, she pulled out the plot of sliced steak. She wasn’t human from Earth, but she preferred this stuff to the local bovine. “Here.” She hesitated. “Do I… feed you.”

The two looked at each other, slightly uneasy. Teska… well, she had been expecting all this, but to come home to it so unprepared… well, it was different, and she didn’t know just how she was going to handle it all.

***

A day passed, and then two days and by the time people saw the little hatchling, the stories had spread. Some even said that Teska had ignored the starving hatchling for a week, but everyone who knew her dissolved those rumors with a quelling lecture. Shy was particular embarrassed for Teska, knowing just how much hope she had staked on the egg at all. And now…

“You’re his guardian now.” Shy said calmly. He rarely let her come down any more, because as she had been the mother hen… well, now she was much worse. Now she was like the obsessive mother who never let her children out of her sight. “He’ll grow under your care, learn how to fly, control his magic and other skills.”

Teska nodded, writing notes with a thoughtful expression on her face even when she knew that this kind of notes was actually… well, not needed.

“Skills.” She said, and paused. “All he does is eat and sleep.”

Shy smiled. “What else do you expect a hatchling to do?”

Teska shrugged. To tell the truth? She didn’t know. “I don’t know.” She voiced her thoughts. “He wakes up at odd hours though. Sleeps the day away when all the rest of us are at our peak, and then wakes up some time in the dead morning, curious about the world.” She snorted. “If it wasn’t me, I’d find it funny.”

Shy smiled. Teska was used to odd hours of work, but this… she seemed to glow, as if, not only was she fascinated, but she was growing as a person as well. Shy would never share these thoughts with his creature, because she would only laugh at him and call him a sentimental idiot.

“You keep referring to him as a he.” Shy said.

Teska looked sheepish. She understood just what he meant by those words. She muttered something low, too low to be heard and Shy’s smile deepened.

“Pardon?” he asked innocently, and the girl scowled.

“I said I don’t know what to call him, yet.” She snapped.

Shy smirked. “Oh? I would have thought you two would have discussed it.”

Now Teska’s expression grew defensive. “He’s a very smart creature, and sometimes I feel like he’s too old. But he’s still a hatchling. I don’t want to talk to him about things that he’s going to have for the rest of his life. This is a very important decision, Shy. How long to Glenn dragons live, anyways? What if I name him something stupid and it traumatizes him?”

Shy’s smile turned indulgent. “Little mother.” He said patiently. “You’ll do fine.”

Teska snorted in response. “Yeah. Kashiel thinks I’m taking this too seriously… and Connar? He thinks it’s cute. Talks about mothering a lot.” Her expression stilled.

Shy tilted his head, seeing this come over the young girl. “Is everything okay?” he asked gently. He was by no means a counselor, but she was one of his, and he was protective even when it was about their love life.

“I’ve been busy. Classes, taking care of a dragon and making sure that he doesn’t…” she stopped. Never mind. He didn’t need to know that stuff. “Well, just busy. Something’s changed now, between us. I’ve got someone else.” Her smile, even if it was brief, was wry and full of ironic humor. “And I don’t know…”

“Talk to him.” Shy said quietly, and then replaced it with one of those thoughtful, feline expressions. “He’s just feeling neglected.”

Teska laughed, and it was a good, girlish laugh. “You make him sound like some sort of pet, Shy.” She said teasingly.

Shy only reacted to these words with one of his indulgent smiles. With a tilt of his head, he arched a brow and said. “See? If you think like that, you won’t have any problems any more.”

Sometimes, Teska was afraid of this man.

***

When she came home, the hatchling looked up with tired eyes, blinking blearly. The question that was half formed in his mind wasn’t hard to miss, and Teska smiled.

“Are you awake?”

The hatchling didn’t answer, but instead continued to watch her, as if wondering why she was wasting his sleep time. After all, if she wasn’t going to feed him, what was the use of being awake?

“Well.” Teska, a little bit unsure smiled. “I was talking to Connar.”

And the hatchling’s eyes picked up a bit. Teska, ever since having received that egg had grown into the habit of talking to herself. That habit had only strengthened after the hatching, and so the crystal was used to knowing too much about the woman’s social life.

“And we’ve got a name.” She looked nervous.

Teska, who could handle a thousand complaints and add one more to the list, the girl who was attending classes and yet dropped everything for a week old hatchling and the girl who wasn’t embarrassed any more, was nervous.

“And if you don’t like it, we can choose something else.” She said hurriedly.

‘Hurry up’. Even now, the hatchling knew better than to waste time like this.

“Ceng.” She said, and smiled, a little bit embarrassed. “It’s a word from one of the old Earth languages. We thought it sounded pretty, and besides, not many people know the dialect any more, so it’s not like they’ll recognize it.”

The hatchling tilted his head. Seng, with a slightly stacatto beat that made it seem exotic, and at the same time some what masculine. He liked it. ‘Meaning?’ he asked, or chirupped. It was good to be called something other than ‘he.’

“Crystal.”

And Ceng rolled his eyes.

How typical.

“Well, you like it.” She retorted. “Isn’t that all that matters?”

The Isle of Mirrors