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I watched in awe as the various dragons began to display their elemental abilities. Some breathed tiny jets of flame, turning the air shimmering and hot. Others puffed out small clouds of ice crystals, creating miniature snowstorms that swirled and danced before dissipating. One dragon, bonded to a fae I didn't know well, was shooting sparks of electricity from its mouth, creating a dazzling light show that had everyone nearby ducking for cover.
My own dragon, however, remained quiet and calm in my arms. It watched the others with interest, its purple eyes tracking the movements of the other hatchlings, but made no attempt to join in their elemental display. I could feel its tiny heart beating against my chest, its warmth seeping into me, but beyond that, it showed no signs of any magical abilities.
"It's okay," I reassured it, though I felt a twinge of worry. "You'll show us what you can do when you're ready." I tried to keep my voice confident, but inside, doubts were beginning to creep in. What if my dragon was different? What if it didn't have any powers at all?
As I cradled my dragon, my mind wandered to Eirian. He had looked so displeased when he left. Was it because of the unexpected nature of the dragons' awakening? Or was there something else bothering him? I couldn't shake the memory of his gaze, the way his eyes had lingered on me. It stirred something inside me, a feeling I pushed back down.
A piercing shriek cut through the air, shattering my moment. I whirled around, my heart leaping into my throat, just in time to see a jet of flame erupting from one of the dragons - a vibrant red one - streaking across the room. Time seemed to slow as I watched the fire arc through the air, heading straight for where Ossian and and a shifter stood.
The vampire reacted with supernatural speed, his body blurring with motion. He threw his arm up to shield himself as he moved to stand before the shifter protectively, but even with his incredible reflexes, he wasn't quite fast enough to move them both out of harm’s way.
The fire caught his arm, and a sickening sizzle filled the air. Ossian let out a sharp hiss of pain, his face contorting in agony. The smell of burned flesh hit me a moment later, making my stomach turn.
The shifter he’d protected was stunned, holding her dragon close as she tried to check on him.
I rushed over, my heart lurching to my throat as Ossian bowed over. The others followed close behind, expressions of concern on their faces. My own dragon clung tightly to my shirt, chirping in distress at the sudden commotion.
Ossian was clutching his injured arm, his normally pale skin an angry, blistering red where the flames had touched him, his tee burned and singed. His dark dragon fluttered anxiously around his head, letting out distressed chirps that seemed to echo its master's pain.
"Are you alright?" I asked, reaching out but hesitating to touch him, afraid of causing more pain. "It'll heal quickly, right? I mean, you're a vampire..." I trailed off, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears. The injury looked severe, far worse than anything I'd seen before. The blisters were ugly and already showing, and he gritted his teeth.
Ossian's eyes met mine, filled with a pain that seemed to go beyond the physical. He shook his head slowly, his voice strained. "No... not this time."
"What do you mean?" I pressed, fear gripping my heart. "Why won't you heal?"
But Ossian didn't elaborate. His jaw clenched, whether from pain or reluctance to explain, I couldn't tell. The sight of him, usually so composed and aloof, now vulnerable and in pain, made my chest ache.
“Here,” Lydia stepped forward, conjuring her water magic and soothing the angry burn as best she could.
Her little dragon fluttered around her, watching curiously.
“Thank you,” Ossian hissed as he closed his eyes, his face pulled tight.
Lydia shot me a distressed look, one that told me even for a vampire, this injury was bad.
I looked around desperately, hoping to see someone stepping forward to help. "Does anyone have healing magic? Can someone help him?"
There was an uncomfortable silence. I knew some of the fae possessed healing abilities, but none of them stepped forward. The tension between the vampires and the other supernatural beings had never been more apparent than in this moment. It was like an invisible line had been drawn, with Ossian on one side and everyone else on the other. Save for Lydia and the shifter he’d protected. She looked distressed, and I recognizedher as one of the other feline shifters Lydia sometimes hung out with.
"Please," I begged, looking from face to face. "He's hurt. Can't someone do something?"
But no one moved. Ossian's face hardened, a mix of pain and resignation in his eyes. "It's fine, Aria. I'll manage," he ground out through clenched teeth. The words seemed to cost him, each syllable laced with pain. “Lydia’s water magic is… welcome.”
“But it’s not healing magic,” Lydia muttered. “I know one of you damn faes has healing magic. Help him!” she snapped, but still, no one moved, and she shook her head.
I looked around at them, appalled at their unwillingness to assist. Ossian had never done a single one of them wrong, and yet, they were alienating him when we were all supposed to be in this together.
One of the Dracarians approached, his expression neutral. "I'll take him to get medical attention," he said, gesturing for Ossian to follow. I watched as Ossian straightened, his face masked, and Lydia stepped back, wincing at the ugly blisters she’d been trying to soothe. Even injured, he carried himself with a dignity that was almost painful to witness.
As Ossian turned to leave, his dark dragon trailing behind him, I felt a surge of anger and disappointment towards the others. How could they just stand by and watch someone suffer like this? Weren't we all in this together?
Zephyr stepped closer, his voice low. "Healing magic isn't common among the fae," he explained. "There are only two here who possess that ability, and well..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
"And they won't help because he's a vampire?" I finished, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. The words tasted sour in my mouth.
Zephyr had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm sorry, Aria. Old prejudices die hard, I'm afraid. But try not to worry too much. Vampires are resilient. He'll recover... eventually."
I nodded, but I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. As Ossian was led away, his dragon fluttering after him, I couldn't help but wonder about his cryptic response. Why wouldn't he heal quickly this time? What was different about this injury? Was it because it was from a dragon? Did he feel that it was different?
