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They had been waiting for the humans for a long time.
The Golden Queen had said that they would come. Promised that they would come. But they had been waiting so long.
This copper dragon was tiring of staying in the sky.
His wing was still damaged from…
It hurts. He doesn’t know how the bone one flies like this always. How the ripped one can deal with the holes in their wings. How could they fly?
And if a dragon can’t fly, than is it really a dragon? Perhaps Professor will take this as an excuse to get him off of active battle… this copper dragon wasn’t sure he wanted to fight anyways. Wasn’t sure if he could fight well enough even if he was fully… repaired.
But then the humans arrived.
The Professor snarled at them as they scurried onto the red patches of tile on the ground, tapping his claws to conjure magic walls to keep them in place. Several looked scared out of their wits, as they should be. Others were blank as slate. Yet still others who looked at the dragons with distain or jealousy.
There were so many of them. He thought that no sane human would risk their life with dragons. Not even the bravest. Then perhaps they weren’t sane. Or maybe they weren’t here on their own choice as he had assumed.
It doesn’t matter. The Golden Queen promised them humans, and delivered. One who keeps deals is always highly valued by dragons.
Professor directed each dragon to choose, one or two at a time. He watched as his winged ached more and more. Even though he felt that he would not be able to choose… landing felt like the best option. And to do that, he would have to make that choice. Choose to be bonded for life towards one of these humans, who made the insane choice to be part of this battle. His human would end up getting itself killed, and him with it. How dishonorable.
Some of his brethren burned a few humans alive, for one reason or another. This one too kind. This one too cruel. One was a Fae- for that he couldn’t blame them at all. His own fire could and would kill… he wasn’t above it. But he preferred not to. Was that bad?
There were so few humans left on the ground unchosen. So few dragons left in the sky partnerless.
Professor flicked his claw at the copper dragon.
Maybe staying in the sky would be better, he thought.
But his wing ached.
He circled once, taking in the few humans unchosen, before the ground was too enticing to ignore. The copper dragon landed with a metallic thud, wing joints squeaking as he folded his wings. They clicked as they reached each stage of retraction, needing effort to force to the next one. He wished they could be smoothly closed again…
He stepped around the circle now, finding none of the humans… satisfactory. They don’t have what he would look for in the slightest. He had to choose, a lesser of several evils. What partner would be the least likely to die? What partner would be capable of the respect a dragon and dragon rider need?
There were two in this corner who were talking quietly.
His eyes glossed over the white armored one. It seemed too overconfident. Likely to get itself killed by staring a dragon down with too much defiance. It could be a good rider, granted, but not for him.
But the other.
This one was one of the scared ones. The unsure.
He was constantly wringing his hands as he spoke, glancing off to the side every other word. His tone was, for the copper’s sharp ears, stuttered and questioning. No confidence in the slightest.
This is what Professor would call weak. The Professor would want him to envelop this one in green flame. Professor was always the wisest of them all.
The copper dragon walked forwards, claws clacking dully against the tile. The humans stopped whispering to each other. The white one stood at the ready, looking at him in question. He ignored it.
The nervous human stood stock still. His arms locked to his side and his breathing kicked up as the copper dragon came within jumping distance. So scared. A mercy, Professor would say. The copper dragon breathed in, preparing his flame. It would burn hot and fast. He wasn’t above killing. He was above needless pain.
The human closed his eyes and turned away.
He smelled it on the air he breathed in, and he paused.
Metal. Copper and iron and oil. Fire. Smoke and burns and tanned leather. Sweat. Pressure and hard work and achievement.
The scent of a mechanic. The air of a workshop.
The smell of home.
…
The fire died in his stomach.
Perhaps... the Professor could be wrong.
The copper padded closer, and pushed aside the magic barriers, as his brethren did with theirs. He sat down in front of this human, staring into his eyes. The human looked back, pupils dilated so far that they nearly swallowed his iris. Nearly ready to pass out, from fear or panic or lack of breath.
The copper spread his wings again, around them both, creaking as they snapped into place. His wings blocked the view of any other dragon or human, taking them both away from the overwhelming scene.
The human was still breathing hard, hands no longer locked to his side but instead gripping his sleeves.
Then the breathing slowed, carefully regaining normality, and the human said his first words to the copper.
“…A-are you… ok? Y-your wing…”
His voice was stuttering and weak, whispering. Oddly… endearing. A human that would be easily eliminated by others in the ring, without a second thought. His brethren would do it in an instant. But he didn’t.
The copper dragon looked up at the human’s face as it slowly changed from utter fear to… confused concern. Still scared… just less so.
The human seemed to study the hole in his wing, hands messing with some spare parts in the strap across his chest. He doesn’t move any further, carding past specks of metal in a pocket, still from lingering fear.
His face was still young, soft. His eyes still held a small spark of innocence. This human couldn’t be any older than 19. Who would send a fledgling here? What fledgling would sign up for war?
Then the human did something unexpected. He finally decided to trace a finger along that wing. Shaking, slow, but the action was there. So gentle. So willing to fix what had been broken for so long. The shaking finger gradually settled, then stilled, carefully tracing along until it reached the gap in his canvas wing. He measured the gap with his fingers as he went, mumbling the number under his breath after he finished, over and over like he was memorizing it.
The human smiled nervously, looking into the copper's eyes fully for the first time. A child-like disbelief.
Yes.
Yes, the Professor could be wrong.
