Night of the Dragonoid

“I can’t sleep”

Clara groaned rolling over to lay on her right side. The night was starless, no moon, no lights at all coming from the endless black sky. The trees surrounding them whispered softly in the warm, gentle, spring breeze that blew through the woodland. The fire had dwindled to a flicker, and thick, white smoke rose up from the ashes. Through the smokescreen she sees his yellow eyes blinking back at her.  “Tell yourself a story.”

“What story?” He shifts, sitting up to lean on his extended arm. His legs curled in support.

“I don’t know.” Clara sighs. “A story. A real one. A fake one. Whatever shuts you up!” She winces. She hadn’t meant for her voice to sound so harsh. She was just so tired. Emotionally, physically, every kind of tired.  She wasn’t in the mood for Dron’s neediness.

“Fine.” He murmurs, his eyes trailing down the smoldering fire.

They had been traveling for a week to the Northern Borders. Escaping the Southern Laboratory hadn’t been easy. Seven of them had attempted an escape, but only two of them had made it.

“I’m sorry.” Clara grunts. “Look.” She sits up, a huff escaping her. The metal wings now protruding from her back were heavy and she still wasn’t used to them.  “We are almost to the Northern borders. We’ll be safe… safer there. Just try and rest.”

Dron blinks slowly. His eyes lifted back up to Clara. He’s only twenty-one, yet he looks so much younger. His black hair and yellow eyes stand out against his horribly pale skin. Clara glances at her own hands, she’s not much better off. Eighteen, yet at least she looks her age. She watches his eyes look over her, something flashes in them. Jealousy? Clara had never had to hide her physical appearance. Her eyes had been green, her hair brown. No one would have guessed she was a Dragonoid.

Dragonoids. That’s what they called us.

“Will we though?” Dron's voice breaks Clara's thoughts. “Will we ever be safe anywhere?”

Clara twists her mouth in thought she lifts her hand to the smoldering fire, using her thumb and pointer finger to help aim the fire that shoots from her eyes. Unlike Dron, Clara had only been taken a few years back when a friend had betrayed her. Dron had been taken when he was but a toddler. Unable to hide the yellow of his eyes that clearly defined him as a Dragonoid.

“The North is known to be safe for Dragoniods and Dragons. But we will always be different Dron. Hunted, feared, and hated.” The bitterness in her voice, she doesn’t even attempt to hide it.

“Why bother even going North then? Why not leave this continent altogether?”

Clara's eyes shoot upward to look at him. “Because other continents would see you, your eyes, and kill you immediately. Dragons are beasts to them. Nothing more. A mutt such as yourself is an abomination.”

His yellow eyes lowered to the fire, the flames dancing in them. “I don’t understand why we have to pay for the sins of our ancestors?” His eyes slit, the yellow grows brighter. “They chose to imbue themselves with dragon’s blood. We didn’t.” He slams his fists into the dirt.

Clara goes silent. She wants to comfort him but the words escape her. What can she even say?

Ages ago during the Great War between the Northern and Southern lands, when the King wanted to conquer the South. The war had drug on for years, eventually, the forces of the South weakened they made a desperate attempt and used the blood of a Northern Dragon they had killed to imbue themselves with Dragon power to fight the North. It had been futile.

The dragons of the North were still too powerful, and the South fell into the North's control. The Southern people, angered at the loss blamed the “heretics” for becoming what had been their downfall. Anyone who had dragons’ blood was hunted and killed. A few survived but the blood was passed down to their children and their children’s children. Those who held dragons’ blood were still hunted. But, instead of being killed they were taken and experimented on, the new age of scientists and sorcerers hoping to control and use such power for a rebellion.

Unfortunately, many of those experimented on died during the extraction process. Those who survived were mutated, like Clara. Dron’s blood had been so strong with Dragons blood that the extraction process hadn’t killed him, but it had weakened him, for a time. He was considered the South's greatest subject; his blood would regenerate quickly allowing for multiple extractions a month. Each extraction, however, would leave him comatose for a week.

“Throughout history, the children often pay for the sins of their fathers,” Clare whispers, bringing her thoughts back into focus, she forces a smile to her face. “If we can make it North, we can change that.”

“But you just said no matter where we go…”

“I know. But what if we could be the change? It will be hard but what if we can change how they view us? Show people that we are no more and no less human than they are. We may look different and have different abilities but we are still people. We still bleed.”

Dron scoffed. “A revolution? A peaceful one?

“Mostly peaceful.” Clara smirks. “Might have to show off a little bit.”

Dron shakes his head. “If I can walk down a street to the bakery, buy a fresh loaf of bread, and walk back home to eat it in peace. I will consider that a victory. I can handle the looks, the stares. But the words… the rocks...”

Clara nodded, they had mostly evaded towns on their way North. Mostly to avoid anyone hunting them and finding where they were going. But they still needed food on occasion. Clara couldn’t go into town with her wings so Dron had been forced to. Certain townspeople hadn’t taken too well to him being there. A purple bruise still shone on his left shoulder where a brick had hit him.

“I don’t think I can even handle the stares.” Clara murmurs. She flutters her wings, and the metal clinks softly. “Having people look at me. Watch me.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Dron smiles sadly. “I don’t think, even if we can earn acceptance, that we’ll ever be able to walk down the street without someone staring.”

“Maybe we can change that for future generations of Dragoniods at least.” Clara's heart clenches. She had always wanted kids but now… knowing the possibility of them having Dragons blood, facing this world. She wasn’t so sure.  

Silence wrapped around them for a period of time, both staring into the crackling fire. The flames seemed to dance in the shadows that reflected off the trees. The fire seemed to sing to them, a song only Dragonoids could hear. Dron's eyes started to blink slower and slower.  He lowered himself back down to his side. “Goodnight Clara.”

Clara smiled, lowering herself back to her side. “Goodnight Dron.”