Molkartra slowly glided to the sea from her perch upon a rocky cliff. Her stomach swelled with the life of an unborn dragon, and the full moon reflected off her midnight blue scales. As she dove into the salty ocean water, Molkartra noticed an unusual feeling in her bulging stomach. She ignored her stomach’s urgent warning to surface, and submerged deeper into the dark water. The deeper she dived, the more Molkartra’s pain escalated. Soon enough, she gave in to her pain and thrust her wings back to force her body to the surface.

A graceful head rose from the water first, drops of water gliding easily against her smooth scales. Her long, perfectly proportioned neck followed quickly. Then, Molkartra thrust her head back and roared, calling the other members of her wrazeth, her family group. She floated toward a bed of kelp, flopped onto it, and waited in agony for her wrazeth. The members appeared in the sky at the first light of the day, her mother, father, and mate. Her mother was lithe and small, her ice blue scales sparkling like diamonds. Her father followed close behind, large, muscular, and blacker than the night sky. Zorcharth, her mate, was golden in color with black extremities. He had two scaled horns on his head, and his scales gleamed in the light of the sunrise. All three of them swooped down to Molkartra, each eager with knowing what was happening.

As they landed in the icy water, Molkartra shrieked with pain. She rolled onto her side, attempting to decrease the agony. Her wrazeth hurried towards her, while trying to keep her calm with soothing hums. Finally, they reached her. Zorcharth hoisted himself onto the kelp bed, eager for his offspring to arrive into the world. Molkartra’s breath was quick and forced, and as her side heaved once, the small, green body of a dragon fell onto the kelp. Once Molkartra had groomed the baby thoroughly, her legless form started to try to look around. She had seaweed green scales, two scaled horns on her head, wings that were twice her body size, and a tail that was slightly longer than her body.

Zorcharth was the first one to approach the tiny, wobbling, baby dragon. After a while, he spoke to Molkartra.
“What shall we call this little darling?”
“You have just named her.” Molkartra answered softly and out of breath.
“I have?” Zorcharth inquired, confused. “What have I called her?”
“Carista, which is ‘darling’ in Draconic. Even you should know that.” She replied smugly.
Zorcharth watched as his daughter struggled to move toward her mother. Molkartra nuzzled Carista, and the wrazeth threw back their heads and roared. Not as a threat, but a calm, welcoming roar that was tradition. Then, Molkartra led Carista into the now warmer sea for her first swim, another tradition for legless dragons.

Underwater, Carista glided as if she had been swimming for years. She enjoyed to blow small bubble rings and try to swim through them, but they would burst when her wings touched them. She chased the fish, snapping at their tails. When she calmed down from all the excitement, her mother showed her how to surface by thrusting her wings back, and as soon as Carista got it right, Molkartra surfaced and immediately took off into the air.

At first, Carista was very confused, surfacing and diving back underwater to search for her mother. Then, Molkartra roared. Carista spotted her mother and flapped in the water, trying to take off. Zorcharth nudged her, and she was off like lightning. Molkartra and her daughter spiraled around each other in the air. Then Molkartra took a deep breath, and as she exhaled, flames flew from her jaws. Carista tried, but she could not succeed.

“You will have to wait at least a year before you will be able to do that.” Molkartra teased.

Then the wrazeth, including Molkartra and Carista, flew away, not to be seen until a year later.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 13.12.2010

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