CONTENT WARNING: Genocide

Rockpool stood under the guillotine. The wicked blade hovered above his head like a metallic vulture, casting a horrific shadow over his mind. Soon, he would watch his brethren die, dragons of mixed blood torn from life all because they didn’t fit in any singular box. All because the queen had decided she was the only individual the world over who had the right to be a hybrid. He didn’t even need to see the words written on paper at this point, not that they even said it right. Like a foreign language only he could understand, Rockpool pieced together what he swore nobody else around him could. The message, written in legal prose and fancy cursive words that belonged in a dragonets’ spelling bee, was clearer than polished glass.

“You do not get to exist.”

Standing on the balcony above the royal menagerie he so carefully curated for his so-called loving queen, Rockpool could still see it engraved on the insides of his eyelids.

“You do not get to exist.”

He’d never fit in, no matter which way he turned it. Nowhere near MudWing enough, but just shy of being a true SeaWing. So similar to his mother’s side of the family that he could lie and say he was purebred, but deep down he knew he was anything but. In a better world, he would’ve flourished with other hybrids, dancing between tribes with other quilted dragons who didn’t quite fit here or there. In a better world, he could’ve grown up with his father as his father instead of some random dragon that he pretended not to know.

He did not live in a better world.

He did not get to exist.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t okay and it wasn’t acceptable. It was one of the most vile, despicable things Rockpool had ever encountered, and it was his new reality. Watching the sun rise in the sky as his world caved in, his life opened itself to a new world and a new chapter, one he was unable to opt out of whether he liked it or not. The pen was practically glued to his talons. The ugly, blood-red ink was everywhere.

Then again, so was the blood from the cow he’d been given to feed the lions with, and the scent was starting to bother him a little. Spreading his dull blue wings, Rockpool grabbed the unfortunate carcass up in his talons and took flight, soaring easily from the balcony he’d perched on while he thought and charting a course for the enclosure.

“Breakfast time!”

The massive male with the stark black mane turned his head up as he heard Rockpool approach, followed by the curious gazes of his harem of lionesses and their frankly adorable cubs. Though he never entered the enclosure itself except to clean, the SeaWing hybrid perched easily on a ledge overhanging one of the fences that kept the pride within the confines of their allotted space. They looked rather strange among the conifers, being a set of creatures descended from lives imported from the desert some miles outside the kingdom walls, but they seemed perfectly content in their environment, a fact that made Rockpool smile despite the heavy thoughts on his mind. The second he cast the bovine corpse into their pen, he sat back for a bit to watch them approach and take turns consuming their fills.

At least some creatures were beyond the corruption of power. Though he may have been king of his pride, the lion was far from being a terrible leader. As an animal, he lacked the capacity to be.

Rockpool would’ve liked to be a lion instead of a dragon.

After the lions came the feeding of the family of bears the queen kept, and then a quick check-in on the herd of deer. The wolves were doing fine, as were the numerous birds in aviaries all across the palace grounds, each one dedicated to a different region. Fish, reptiles, mammals both great and small… It would’ve taken a newcomer hours to complete the rounds, but Rockpool had been at this job for years by now, and he had his own routine for how to handle things. It took him just shy of an hour and a half this time, and he scribbled it down on the scroll he kept, comparing it to his best records. Work always came easier if he made a game of it – and while he played, it didn’t matter who he was or where he came from. All that mattered was that he had fun.

… And if he closed his eyes and stood perfectly still, maybe he’d come out okay. Maybe he’d survive this wave.

---

Flying a few extra laps around the palace gave Rockpool more time to think. Even though he didn’t like pondering the new nightmare that was brewing on the horizon, it felt good to at least give himself time to process it. With the wind under his wings and the sunlight on his back, he could almost forget the danger that loomed inevitably over both himself and others like him. Far above the ground, propelling himself into loops and dives, it all felt like distant background noise. His wingbeats were the rhythm of a beautiful symphony that drowned it all out, his thoughts the lyrics and his feelings the melody.

Not even Queen Zero could get to him up here. This was what it meant to be really, truly free, even if only for a moment.

What would happen if I just kept flying? What would happen if I soared to the very edge of the kingdom, past the sea cliffs, and just kept going?

He had gills. He could plunge into the water. He could escape into the deep blue, never to be seen again. Hell, he could go explore the rest of the continent if he wanted to. Just grab a bag full of stuff and see all the other old kingdoms that were no longer in use, find out where his ancestors came from and experience the world of his people. He could see whales and go play in the mud and nobody would bother him ever again.

I could be free. I could be home. Really, truly home.

No. Not without her. Not without Redwood.

Redwood was just about everything to Rockpool. His very best friend, his most trusted companion, the only one who knew the truth about his mixed bloodline, and his favorite dragon in the whole world. He’d never even dream of leaving home without her, and so even when the horizon called to him, he stayed behind and waited for the day they’d both be ready to fly away.

It was as obvious as the sun that he loved her more than anything, ever since the day the queen hired them both and she startled both him and one of the monkeys he’d been holding when she dropped by to ask if he had anything she could use as fertilizer. The monkey had jumped onto his face, and Rockpool had, rather embarrassingly, startled and fallen over backwards. They’d been close from the very beginning, especially when she apologized profusely and scrambled to help him and the frightened simian up. He’d let her name it Sneezewort, which later turned into Sneezewortimer. Her cackling laugh had to be the best sound he’d ever heard.

It didn’t matter if the kingdom was burning down around them. Rockpool would never pack his bags until he told Redwood he loved her and got her to run away with him. She was too dear to his heart to just leave behind like everyone else.

They’d cut it clear together someday, that much he knew.

So for now, he’d just fly in laps around the castle until all the worry fell away, and it was safe to come back down again. Closing his eyes and trying to catch a warm updraft of air, he let the sunlight kiss his snout and sent his heart to soar, notes spilling from his throat as he propelled himself higher and higher. The tears that streamed from his eyes were the most bittersweet ones he’d shed in awhile.

---

Rockpool finally landed in the garden, exhausted from his flight and ready to seek the comfort of his closest friend’s warm scales and squeezing hugs. Weaving between the massive pines she so carefully cultivated, Rockpool found Redwood sitting on a rock in the sun and gazing out across the bed of flowers that tumbled down the hill in front of her, almost as natural as they’d be if they’d simply grown there by chance. As far as he was concerned, Redwood was an amazing Leafspeaker in Rockpool’s eyes. Firsthand, he’d seen her coax flowers into bloom and even hold an argument with a willow tree about how much water it was getting. Though she didn’t control the verdant life around her, she conversed with it as freely as she did with dragons, and watching her do it always made Rockpool fall head over heels all over again.

As per usual, her forest green eyes sparkled when she saw him. “Rockpool!” Redwood called almost instantly upon seeing him. Her leaf-shaped wings, the color of chlorophyll, spread out to emphasize her joy. She was a blur of reddish-brown scales as she approached him, wrapping him without thought into her embrace. He immediately reciprocated, warming her, too, with his arms and wings.

Running up one taloned hand to rest on the elegant curve of her neck, Rockpool found himself sighing. “Did you hear about the bill?”

Redwood squeezed him a little tighter and rocked him back and forth for a moment. “Yeah,” she murmured against the warmth of his shoulder, refusing to pull back in even the slightest. “I’ve been worried sick all day. Are you alright?”

“About as alright as I can be.”

“… Good. Sorry, I know that was a stupid question.”

Rockpool wished fervently to tell her that no question she could ever ask could possibly be stupid because she was the smartest damn dragon in the whole wide world to him, but he suspected that might be a little too forward. Instead, he just smiled. “It’s alright. It shows you care.”

“Because I do, and I always will. We’ll find a way to be okay, yeah? We always do,” Redwood whispered back, pulling away to gaze into his soft yellow eyes with her verdant green ones. Her talons gently cupped his cheeks, and he reached one of his up to hold the one on the left.

“Yeah. We always do.”