Interlude
Cinder
Cinder pocketed the little bit of silver, richer by another… He gripped the pin. Eleven grams?
Didn’t feel right, though. That wasn’t his silver. There was a mark on it, in the very fire that forged it—the Ass-wind Vritra Drake. The Drake that had put those nasty pins inside the necks of dragons whose only failure had been not being a Drake.
That wasn’t silver in his pocket. It was a reminder that there was evil still in the world, and many more Drakes that needed to go away.
The urge to shift and play was great, so he twisted his lips and stripped, careful to tuck his silver nail under one of his wings before he made his way out to play with the others. He carefully stowed the clothes off to the side and huffed.
Once outside, he chased after Storm, tackling his Dette sibling with glee.
They wrestled for a moment, yapping at one another and spitting fire until he caught glimpse of Daigh, nipped his golden tail and passed by to find Niko and harass him.
The Finnish dragon had no idea what his gender would be, but Cinder did.
And he’d let the Drake claim him one day if only just to make sure he never had to go batty like Farfar.
A mated Dette lost their volur abilities, and the boy was a weenie.
He’d let Cinder have fun and go where he wanted and watch loud movies and play video games.
Niko ran off screaming at a few playful nips—terrified. I’ll wear him down.
An unfamiliar Drake lay out in the sun, head tilted as he stared at a pile of playing pups—Blossom among them. She had trouble running as fast as the others, with her upper arms webbed and winged rather than the separate set of her back.
Someone muttered a name, a stupid one. Ashwin. Ew.
Cinder jogged up to check on the littler pups, sniffing about as Blossom slapped at Lyam’s tail, laughing at his lack of tail floof.
Cinder passed them by and trotted up to Ass-wind and stared, trying to make heads or tails of the Drake to see if he would learn a lesson. Hello.
The Drake’s eyes panned down and pinned Cinder in his place. Lovely little golden Dette. Hello.
Cinder never took flattery seriously. Whatcha doin?
Observing the female.
It took Cinder a second to remember Blossom was a female. To him, she was a Dette. The distinction seemed silly. She’s really sweet.
And a danger to our bloodlines. Ass-wind sniffed and gazed around, eyes focusing on Bastien with a low growl of disapproval. As is that one.
Uncle Bastien is really nice. He can heal and helps lots of Dettes have eggs. It didn’t make Ass-wind happy, though. He still scowled, bad vibes hovering around him.
Shouldn’t be allowed to procreate, or to call himself a dragon. In my harems, we have ways of dealing with broken Dettes and females.
Cinder clenched his wings, feeling the shape of the pin hot against his scales.
How? Cinder stepped closer, watching the Drake curiously.
We have ways of—pinning—these things down so they don’t get out of claw.
Pure rage boiled in Cinder’s tummy, sick in a way that made him want to go ask his papa for a ginger ale.
No hate or anger emanated from Ass-wind as he said it, though. In his heart of hearts and deepest parts of his dragon, he thought what he was doing was the right thing, that Drakes were born to be superior, Dettes subjugated, and everyone else destroyed.
He’d never learn.
He’d never hear reason.
Can you lift me up and toss me so I can fly? Cinder was old enough to take off on his own, but Ass-wind obliged. He humored Cinder in the same way some Drakes did, looking at every Dette pup as if they were future mates. Cinder would never be caught dead kissing him when he grew up.
And so, Ashwin lowered a wing and let Cinder climb up onto his back to scale his neck with careful claws.
One paw slipped to his wing and grasped the pin, funneling his fire and magic into it as he accidentally slipped.
In a sleight of hand, worthy of everything his Farfar had ever taught him, Cinder’s claw pricked the Drake’s neck and the silver simply vanished. And it’d never come out again; it’d only work itself deeper and deeper until one less Drake bothered them.
Ashwin chuffed in discomfort and lowered his head a bit to let Cinder climb up all the way. Careful, clumsy little one. Drakes do not care for a Dette without grace.
Cinder didn’t give a flying rat’s ass what a Drake wanted. But, he let Ashwin flick his head and send Cinder up to spread his wings and glide back down, circling over all the other pups before tumbling down amid some of his siblings, hunting down Luka.
His little brother had the attitude of one of those big kings already.
The two exchanged a glance as Cinder huffed.
Luka, almost as big as him, nudged Cinder. What did you do?
Cinder shrugged. Nothing.
I saw magic.
No, you didn’t. Cinder scratched at his neck with a back claw.
Luka glanced at Ass-wind and snorted a little flicker of flame. I won’t tell on you.
Cinder stuck his tongue out and ran off.
Maybe he could catch Niko.
Boyfriend! Cinder called out. Niko screamed, and it was going to be another great day.