Flight

My name is Aker, and I am a flightless dragon. At one point, dragons ruled the Earth, with various tribes of diverse species across the globe. Some of us breathed fire, some of us controlled elements, and all of us were immensely proud. Then a group of intelligent monkeys that called themselves “humans” started to spread across the planet. Eventually, they started hunting us down. Some humans did it for sport, some humans did it for food, and some humans did it just because they were scared of us. With the discovery of gunpowder, they manufactured weapons and bombs. Tools of destruction in hand, they went on a murderous rampage that lasted for hundreds of years. We’d kill them in large numbers, but our population was small and grew slowly. No matter how many humans we killed, more would come. One after another, all dragon tribes went extinct. Nowadays, the last race of dragons live in a protected forest of 1,500 square miles off the Canadian coast. The forest has everything we need to survive, full of biodiversity and lush vegetation, bordered to the east by a vast mountain range and to the west by the ocean.

My species of dragons is relatively nonthreatening, part of the reason humans allowed us to live. We are basically large lizards with wings and sharp teeth and claws, and we’re unable to use magic like some of our other dragon ancestors. We’re born into broods of about 7 every 30 years, and one dragon from a long lineage of wise dragons presides over our small community of about 100. We refer to them as the Rex.

When I was born, everything seemed normal. I grew up normally, and played with the other hatchlings just like everyone else. Yet I would hear whispers about me from the older dragons as they watched me play. “There’s something off about him”. “His back isn’t the right shape”. I watched as one by one, all of my siblings grew their wings and started to fly. All of them except me. I’d watch them dance around the sky, feeling the rush of wind beneath their wings. All I could do was hope that I was a late bloomer, and that my wings were coming. They never did. I was brought to the Rex at 15, so the community could decide what to do with me. They decided a swift death would be the most merciful thing to do. I was pinned down and right before I as the executioner raised a sharp claw in the air, my mother cried out from the crowd, begging for my mercy. The Rex acquiesced, but from that day on no dragon willingly interacted with me, my existence deemed as nothing but a mistake. Many nights I spent curled up against my mother’s side, listening to her heartbeat as I wondered what I did to deserve this existence.

One night, during a particularly bad rainstorm, I asked my mother if I was a mistake. “No, of course not,” she crooned. “I wouldn’t have saved you so long ago if you were. You might not have wings, but it’s what’s on your inside that counts”. Despite her kind words, her eyes pensively looked above me, out at the storm. I may have been young, but I could tell even my mother wasn’t sure if she made the right choice.

Today, I woke up before the sun. My mother was still asleep next to me, her breathing deep and slow. I slithered out from underneath her wing, making sure to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake her. I was hungry, and in the hours before daybreak I’d be able to snag one of the small mammals that scurried around the forest floor. Due to my lack of wings, I was never able to catch the larger prey that the other dragons would catch, which led to one of my nicknames: “Rat-eater”.

I stealthily snuck through the forest underbrush, eyes scanning for any small movement that could give a rodent away. It wasn’t long before I saw it. A rustling in the bushes, an almost inaudible sound of an acorn being eaten. A chipmunk sat on a twig about 5 feet in front of me. My tail whipped back and forth across the air, I got low and prepared to pounce. Right before I leapt, an object careened out of the sky onto the chipmunk. It held the terrified creature in one claw and gave me a cocky smile. My brother, Lechies.

“Hey runt, you hungry?” Lechies sneered at me, holding the chipmunk out towards me. It was wildly squeaking out of fear and agony.

I feebly attempted to jump and snatch the rodent out of his talons. With a few powerful beats of his wings, Lechies hovered in the air directly above me, dangling the chipmunk just out of my reach. “What’s wrong, rat-eater? Can’t eat your pathetic breakfast?”

The chipmunk was still squeaking, with a growl of annoyance Lechies decapitated it and threw the head at my feet. Its blank dead eyes stared at me, and I felt stomach bile rise into my throat. I looked at my brother, trying to fight back the tears. He was laughing now, thoroughly enjoying my misery. Out of nowhere he threw the rodent’s body aside and lunged at me, claws ripping my deformed back, blood spraying out of my new wounds. I cried out in pain. “Go on you wretched runt, go cry to your mommy,” Lechies said before launching himself back into the sky, laughing. I watched as his figure slowly disappeared into the clouds, ardently wishing he didn’t exist.

I look once more at the chipmunks head before sighing and kicking it to the side. I wasn’t hungry anymore. I decided I would go back to my mother, the only thing in the entire forest who had a shred of care for me.

As I approached the place where we slept, I heard a commotion. Thrashing, roaring, and branches breaking. With a sinking feeling, I kept moving until what I saw stopped me in my tracks. My mother was caught in a net, with three humans surrounding her. Poachers, each carrying a large dagger.

“We’re gonna be eating good tonight, boys!” one of them said, fist pumping the air. His friends laughed and jeered at my mother, the captive dragon. She roared in fury, viciously swiping the air around her. The men jumped out of the way, briefly looking concerned, before going back to their jeers and derision. “That's all you got? Big scary monster?” One of them darted forward, stabbing into her before jumping back, causing my mother to howl in pain.

Suddenly, my mother locked eyes with me, staring out from the forest undergrowth. “My child, Aker, run!!” she exclaimed. The humans didn’t understand her, they didn’t speak our language. I wanted to run, but fear paralyzed my small body. All I could do was watch.

“I’ve had enough of this,” the tallest member of the group said. He stepped forward with his dagger, and my mother’s blood coated the ground below their feet. It was only then, shocked into movement, I was able to run.

I ran forwards, no goal in mind, just a desire to escape. Escape my mother’s death, Lechies, and my pitiful life. Suddenly, I realized where I was and skidded to a stop. The edge of the forest, bordering the sea. Hundreds of feet below, waves crashed against the rocks.

I looked behind me, at my home. There was nothing there for me, not a single thing left. I closed my eyes, and for the first time in my life, I flew.