Windor couldn’t sleep. Had it been weeks, months, since the last time he had a good night’s sleep? He couldn’t tell anymore. The days had long since blurred together and he stopped keeping track.

Most nights were spent lying awake because he feared the nightmare that awaited him when he closed his eyes. In the nightmare, there were no distractions, no haven, only the worst parts of his mind free to blossom and manifest how it saw fit.

And so he stayed awake, stalling for as long as possible until his body had reached its limit and sleep claimed him whether he wanted it to or not. By then he was too exhausted to dream and only memories of the night before greeted him upon waking.

But even when awake there was no safety; the reminders were always there. Every time he looked upon his mud-colored scales and scar-covered body. Every time he moved his head and felt that tightness on the left side of his face where he lost his eye. Every time he was reminded that he was a worthless coward. The only difference being during the day he could distract himself.

So he distracted himself. Through constant work to buy enough drink or sweets to dull his senses.

But it seemed the divines were not satisfied. Now his punishment was more severe. That was why he was outside in the wilderness with Aeris, the one he hurt. Why he spent every day hiding his withdrawal from the others. At first, it wasn’t hard. They were still in the cities then. He could sneak off at practically any time and get a quick-fix of sweets to tide him over. But not anymore. They crossed the border into the Dragonlands. They were in the middle of the woods and even then no sweet shops existed on this side of the world.

The symptoms weren’t bad now, but eventually, there would be no hiding it. Not when he got the dry mouth and the fatigue. The worst would be the hunger pangs. His body would start craving sustenance it didn’t need or want to stifle the urges. That would not be fun. He shuddered at the thought of the dragons who lost themselves. Their teeth cracked and rotten—the ones left anyway—because they resorted to eating rocks and wood they were so hungry.

He looked up at the cloudy sky overhead, illuminating a washed-out and dreary world. Counting the days remaining of his sanity was no way to start the morning. He started to stretch then felt something against his side. Aeris slept soundly next to him. Even in the dreary light, the bright blue scales of the dragoness had a shine to them, just like the day they met.

A mixture of joy and horror welled up within him. This wasn’t where he laid down to sleep. Either he had gotten up in the night or she did.  That wasn’t possible. Aeris had been sleeping for nearly a week now and hadn’t done more than the occasional twitch to remind everyone she was alive.

He wanted to move away, but his limbs wouldn’t obey the command. Memories of old times flooded him. When he would awake to her beside him, her eyes bright and full of joy.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and nuzzled the side of her face. She stirred and groaned softly but remained asleep. The conflicting feelings intensified. Would that joy still be there or would there be only contempt in her eyes?

Part of him didn’t want her to wake up. If she awoke, the answer would be revealed and the dream would end.  Even asleep, the change was apparent. She looked older, rougher. The last year apart had changed her. He wanted her to stay like this. Innocent, pure, and curious of the wider world. She wasn’t that way anymore; now she had become withdrawn, fearful, and angry. It hurt to see her that way.

He quickly pushed the thoughts out of his mind. That life was over. They could never be together again; it was time he accepted that.

To distract from the gnawing thoughts of reminiscence, he looked around the small camp.  Laying on the other side of Aeris was Janine. For once her youth showed in her freckled face and she wasn’t forced to pretend to be older or bear burdens that should have been his. As if sensing him watching, she shifted, causing her mop of dark hair to hide her face from view.

On his left lay the next human-dragon pair. Nesse’s green scales blended well with the surrounding foliage, her side rising and falling in an even rhythm breaking her cover.

Leaning against her was her assistant, and chosen so far as Windor was concerned, Brandy. Her contrast to Janine was immediately apparent. Where Janine was young and mature, Brandy was older and had the hyper-activity of a small child. Even the way she slept, with a wide grin on her chubby face like someone who wasn’t on the run.

To his right beyond Janine lay Terran and Maxis. It was strange seeing Maxis with a peaceful look on his face. His black scales stood out amongst the scenery as if his size didn’t give him away already.

Terran didn’t fare much better. He was one of the largest humans Windor came across in height and width. He supposed that was common among human mercenaries.

He realized that everyone here had done something for Aeris. They gave up their lives to travel with her and make sure she was okay, even though they were strangers.

Everyone except him who had known her the longest.

He needed another distraction. Something that didn’t remind him of his failings. Noticing his penises stood at full attention, he rolled over to better hide himself in case anyone woke up and lumbered into the woods.

After relieving himself in the bushes, he continued wandering. There were three dragons back at camp; nothing would bother them. The woods were eerily quiet. It had been ever since they arrived. That was common in the Dragonlands but made him uneasy. This land was more wild and untamed. Instead of bandits on the roads, any wandering dragon looking to pass the time was a threat. And then many wild beasts that roamed the woods. Not many creatures were bold enough to approach three grown dragons, but Windor understood better than most that hunger was a fierce motivator.

Still, what was he to do about it? A coward and a weakling was no threat to anything or anyone.

He wandered deeper into the woods, wondering if the others had awoken yet and if they would be looking for him if they had. Probably not. Janine would likely care, but Nesse and Brandy were strangers. Terran and Maxis had no real reason to care about him either. And Aeris had made her feelings towards him known a long time ago.

Should he go back? Was sticking around the best idea? While he wanted to atone, his presence was nothing but a reminder of a past best left forgotten.

If he did leave, where would he go? Going back across the border sounded like the best idea. No dragon clan on this side would accept him.

Eventually, he came across a small stream. He took his time drinking to distract from the nagging thoughts. After slaking his thirst, he kept drinking until his stomach felt tight. He then dunked his head under the water and held that position for a few moments before snatching his head out of the stream, flinging cool droplets onto his back.

He looked down at his reflection. The dark red dragon stared back at him, its one milky eye showing no emotion, unlike the healthy yellow one that was full of regret and sadness. It went well with the crisscrossing scars on his face and neck and the broken horn.

He dug his claws into the muddy banks to stop himself from turning away. Up until now, he couldn’t stand to look at his reflection—that held true now, but he needed to see it.

“Look at you,” he said to his reflection. “Just a shadow of your former self.”

“To be a shadow, you have to first been worth something,” his reflection replied. “You were a coward then and you’re a coward now.”

He slapped the ground with his tail. “I’m not a coward. Not anymore.”

“Sure you’re not. Look at Windor, the big bad Ravager. He stands up to bullies and fights for his friends!”

Windor clenched his jaw and growled at the water. The obvious sarcasm of that jab wasn’t lost on him. Even before Aeris, when others, some of them close friends, were being tormented by other dragons he looked the other way. Thoughts of the what-ifs and maybes still haunted him. But it was how things were done. The strong ruled the weak. Obedience bred order. Someone like him, a weak whelp who hated violence, knew the best hope for survival was to keep his head down and his mouth closed.

“Wuss. A domesticate has more backbone than you. Really? A dragon raised by humans to be an obedient pet has a bigger pair than a clan-born?”

“Aeris may be a domesticate but she’s also a Matriarch,” he argued. “They can do whatever they want. She is anything but weak.”

“She wasn’t a Matriarch back then. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t know what one was.”

“That’s not the damn point!”

“And what is the point? That it’s okay for her because she turned out to be a Matriarch in the end? She didn’t care about that. She doesn’t care about it now. Labels mean nothing to her, unlike a certain drake who’s too afraid to stand up for himself.”

He leaned closer to the water, feeling heat course through his body. “I’m not afraid. I just know my place.”

“And what was her place? As a domesticate, she’s beneath you, Matriarch or not. She’s a pet, a plaything, she admitted to letting a human—a human—use her how he saw fit. And that’s your definition of strong? No wonder you’re so fucked up.”

“You don’t talk about her that way!”

“Or what? You won’t do a damn thing. You never do. Even when her life was in danger, even when she begged you to come to her rescue, even when all you had to do was save the eggs YOU helped make, what did you do? Now you want to come to her defense? Please.”

“That’s different! I…I…” He couldn’t form the words. Just thinking it made his tongue feel too thick and heavy to move. It blocked his throat and made it hard to breathe.

“You were what? Scared? Scared of what the dragons would do to you when they found you laid with a domesticate? Funny how that thought never crossed your mind when you were going balls deep—"

With a savage snarl, he swiped the water, flinging clumps of dirt onto the banks. Knowing the stream would eventually settle and he’d see his reflection again, he turned away.

The sound of breaking branches and birds screeching as their homes were disturbed broke the silence. He spun around just in time to react to a large mass of fur and feathers flying towards him, narrowly dodging the creature.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen. It had the face of a bird of prey but stood on four limbs. Bleeding lacerations stained the thick brown and white-spotted feathers covering the front half of its body and the black fur on its rear half. It had large talons for forelegs but its rear legs sported wide paws.

His admiration of the strange creature before him was cut short as three Ravagers landed on the ground behind him. The creature squawked and tried to stand, but collapsed to the ground.

The largest of the three stepped forward and motioned to the creature behind Windor. “That’s our kill. We’ll be taking it back now.”

“You damn lizards,” the creature said. “And here I thought you were creatures of honor!”

“Shut your mouth, bird!” the large Ravager cried before turning back to Windor. “You. Move so we can teach that feathered freak a lesson.”

Windor didn’t move. He couldn’t. His fascination with the strange creature rooted him to the spot, but also the situation itself. He should walk away. Every part of him screamed to walk away. Three against one were terrible odds and this wasn’t his fight anyway. What did he care what happened to some random stranger?

But that kind of thinking is what led to his cowardice. When Janine was being bullied by dragons, he told himself the same thing. But Aeris came to her rescue. And when Aeris needed help, who came to her aid but perfect strangers who had no stake in her well-being?

He turned back to the creature, struggling to stand on wobbling limbs. He couldn’t do it. Moving out of the way and leaving this creature its fate felt wrong. Thoughts of Aeris laying there, bleeding and hurt, surrounded by those who wished her harm flooded his thoughts. The visions changed to images of himself. Ignored or looked down upon by sneering faces.

He could always hear their voices, their jeers, their insults. Telling the others to ignore him, calling him trash, that he deserves his fate. The “betters” have decreed his worth and his only choice was to accept their judgment.

A burning rage rose within him. He stepped forward and planted himself between the creature and the dragons.

The large Ravager tilted her head. “What’re you doing? Do you want the kill that bad?”

“No,” Windor replied. “I’m just doing something right for once.”

“If you wanna do something right, move your ass,” the second Ravager said. “We need to put that bird in its place.”

A terse growl escaped him. There it was again. The betters had spoken and needed to make things right in the world. The balance, the hierarchy, needed to be restored and maintained.

“Hey, he’s an outcast!” the third Ravager cried.

Windor swore. He had forgotten he had been marked as an outcast for abandoning Aeris. This was bad. Outcasts ranked just above domesticates in the hierarchy. No proud dragon would be talked down to by one. He should back away and apologize. If he’s lucky, they’ll consider him unworthy of their attention. Maybe he could even get away while they killed the creature.

He flexed his claws and inhaled, ready to expel flames at any moment.

Are you sure about this, he asked himself. You’re outnumbered and no one knows you’re here. You’ll likely die here.

That was fine. He made his choice. At least he would die knowing he did what he could.

The largest Ravager stepped forward. Pressure like a heavy blanket fell on him. That familiar feeling of something worming its way into his mind and probing his brain followed. He knew this feeling; it was a Matriarch’s Call, the unique power only select female dragons could use and a symbol of their authority.

He swore again. There was no getting out of this now. Matriarch’s stood at the top of the hierarchy. Only they were allowed to rule and command, and no one dared talk down to them. An outcast defying a Matriarch? They would never let him walk away. A fight was inevitable.

Get out of the way, the Ravager’s voice commanded.

Windor chuckled to himself. This pressure was nothing compared to some of the Matriarch’s he met lately. Even Aeris could do better and she just learned how to use hers. But even so, he had already made up his mind. No longer would he be a coward.

The Ravager backed away, her eyes wide with shock. “What?! Why didn’t it work on you?”

“Because you lack resolve,” Windor said. He smiled at recalling the words of Aeris’ training. “Your Call doesn’t work if your will is weak.”

It was bait. He couldn’t get out of a conflict anymore so he saw no point in playing nice. Besides, making her angry might make her sloppy.

The Ravager’s eyes blazed with a fierce fury as she charged at him.  In the past, that would have phased him, but he had seen worse, faced worse. Those weren’t the eyes of a dangerous dragon; that was the glare of a spoiled whelp who didn’t get her way.

Windor planted himself and braced for the charge. They were equal in size so he expected to handle the hit. The blow hurt, but he planted himself and slid just a little.

The Ravager reared up, paw raised to strike him down. He reacted immediately, charging forward into the swing and tackling her to the ground. Before she could react, he went for the throat.

Something slammed into him from the side, sending him rolling along the ground. The other two Ravagers weren’t going to watch while an outcast killed a Matriarch. He quickly righted himself and flapped his wings as hard as possible. The gust wouldn’t knock them off their feet, but it would give them pause.

He felt different. His body felt hot. The smell of burning grass filled his nose. That couldn’t be right. No one had used their flames yet. Or had one of the dragons preemptively set the area on fire to cut off escape?

There was no time to wonder about it. The two Ravagers were charging again in a pincer maneuver with the Matriarch coming down the middle. Their movements were synchronized. They had hunted before.

His only hope was to throw off their timing and teamwork. So he charged forward rather than try to stay defensive. The heat rushed through his limbs, leaving a tingling feeling in his claws. His senses felt sharper and faster. He sensed the two Ravagers changing direction to meet his assault. They would be too slow. But there would only be moments to take advantage of the opening.

He reached the Matriarch, but instead of tackling her head-on, he jumped. She had braced for a frontal assault and couldn’t react in time. He used his momentum to aid his attack, striking her hard across the face. He then spun and threw himself at the other Ravager. With the Matriarch between them, the pincer attack wouldn’t work. The other one would have to go around.

Windor faked a high swipe but went low instead with his other claw. The attack slid smoothly across the other Ravager’s belly scales, exposing his innards.

Windor spun to meet the remaining attackers but was tackled from behind. Two pairs of claws tore at his body. He spun and tried to fend them off but they were back in sync. It was hard to block one attack without leaving an opening for another.

“Why’s his body so hot? It--” One of the dragons roared in pain and reared up. Windor knocked away a swipe from the Matriarch aimed at his throat and expelled a spurt of flame. She reared up and he wasted no time kicking his hind legs, tearing her abdomen from her chest down to the base of her tail. Her pained shriek cut through the air.

Windor could only stare, his body shaking from the adrenaline. He had defied a Matriarch and even wounded her. And it was no small cut. She would bleed to death if nothing was done—assuming anything could be done. It didn’t feel real. How could he, a lowly drake, defeat a Matriarch?

Don’t flatter yourself. She was just weak, his mind chided. You honestly think you’d stand a chance against someone like Cutter or Sareen? You’d be nothing more than a warmup to them.

Still, even the lowliest Matriarch stood above him.

The Matriarch glared up at him, blood dripping from her snout. “You fucking…bastard! How… How…” She doubled over in a fit of coughing.

He continued to stare as she lay in a growing pool of her life force. What had he done?

The strange hybrid creature approached the bleeding dragon. Windor, realizing there were still two other dragons about, whirled around. The other two dragons lay still on the ground. He spun back to the creature. Even with those wounds, it was strong enough to kill a dragon?

The hybrid kneeled next to the Matriarch. “Shh. It is going to be all right, little one. Your mother is calling you home. Rest.”

She tried to bite at the creature, but the attempt was pitiful. Even if it had reached, she wouldn’t have done any damage. Her mouth moved, forming words, but only a strangled gurgle and bubbles of blood flowed from her maw.

The creature closed his eyes and placed a talon on her head. She didn’t struggle under his touch. He then opened his eyes, took her head in both talons, and twisted her neck. The sickening crack of her bones broke the silence briefly before stillness enveloped them again.

The peace didn’t last long as the creature sighed heavily. “Such a waste. May your next life be more pleasant.”

Now that Windor had a chance to examine the creature, it was an impressive size. They were about equal in height and he was large enough to carry a grown human. He also noticed that most of its wounds were superficial. Even against three dragons, it held its own.

The creature swept into a low bow. “My name is Bluen, and I am grateful for your assistance. Hopefully we will see each other again.”

“Wait!” Windor cried. “Come with me. You’re hurt. I know people who can treat your wounds.” He didn’t actually know that, but it was clear that Bluen was downplaying his injuries. It was in the gryphon’s eyes. He would be passed out by sundown.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think you have done enough for me.”

“Technically, you saved my life and I saved yours, so we’re even.”

“And that is all the more reason not to be in debt to a dragon. Not to be rude, but we have stories back home warning about trusting your kind.”

It didn’t bother him at all. He understood better than most the cruelty of his kin.

“Still, you won’t get far with those cuts. My camp isn’t far.”

Bluen tilted his head. “Your ‘camp’?”

Windor didn’t know how to respond to that so he just shook his head and started to walk away. He took one step before his legs buckled. Bluen managed to catch him before he fell. Everything felt sore as if he had been running for days. Looking down at his paws, his nails were black and cracked.

What happened to me?

“It seems you need assistance as well,” Bluen said. “Oh, what was your name again?”

“Windor.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Windor. Now which way to your camp?”

****

“Just how is it you, Aeris, and Janine are always at the center of every damn thing?” Nesse asked with a heavy sigh. Windor had just finished recalling the events of his morning “adventure”. He and Bluen had used up the last of their bandages and even a few makeshift ones getting treatment.

Nesse wasn’t the only one displeased with his side-tracking. It seemed the others had noticed his disappearance and were quite worried about him. Terran and Maxis had been silent the entire time, but their looks said plenty. Janine especially was taking it hard. Ever since he arrived, the young woman had been clinging to him. It made him feel guilty. He had forgotten Janine was in a foreign land, far from home, with no idea if she would see her family again. Their group were the only people she knew and could rely on out here.

He silently scolded himself for even considering the possibility of leaving.

“We just have a knack for it?” Windor said, smiling weakly.

“Yeah, I noticed,” the dragoness replied. “Seriously, you three were made for each other.”

“Forget them!” Brandy cried. She was the only one who didn’t seem bothered by the events, instead staring at Bluen like a parched woman seeing a glass of water. “How on earth did you find a gryphon?! They’re supposed to be extinct!”

“Brandy, that’s rude,” Nesse said.

The woman quickly covered her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! I just…well, no one’s seen your kind in, like, forever! We can’t even find records you existed, just vague stories and drawings. And now a real, live gryphon is here! You really have no idea what this means! There’s so much we can learn from you!”

“Yes, thank you,” Bluen said slowly. “ I do not know what I can tell you, however. We do not know why we never ventured beyond our borders. It is just how things are.”

“You still left though,” Terran said as he finished tying up a bundle of wood. “So something made you leave.”

The gryphon shrugged. “I am just simply curious. And as a warrior, it is my task to protect the kettle from harm. But there are many stories of dangerous creatures beyond our borders. Terrifying monsters that defy imagination and would kill anything foolish enough to trespass in their territory.”

Brandy eagerly raised her hand. “Excuse me, but what’s a kettle? It’s just over here, it means a metal pot used for boiling water which I can’t imagine why you would spend your time protecting it. Although if it's something precious like a family heirloom, I can see why. But is it really that hard to protect? And if so—”

“Answer the question so she’ll shut up,” Maxis said.

Brandy fell silent, looking very hurt by the remark.

“A kettle is simply what we call multiple gryphons living together,” Bluen replied matter-of-factly. “We usually live alone or with loved ones, but collectively, others are nearby.”

“Oh, so like a collection of families living in the same neighborhood!” Brandy exclaimed. She began furiously writing in her notebook. “Dr. Nesse, do you hear this?”

“Yes, I heard. And it’s very interesting,” Nesse said. “So how exactly does a kettle work? How do you govern yourselves if you all live alone?”

“I am sorry, but that is all I can say. I am grateful for your aid, but I must consider the kettle’s safety above all else and I am unsure just how much I can entrust to you.”

“Fair enough,” Nesse said, shrugging.

“But—“ Brandy began.

Nesse quickly cut her off. “He doesn’t want to share yet, and we’re not gonna make him. Remember, we have to be respectful.”

“If we’re done with storytime,” Terran said. “Can you help us finish packing up? Windor’s little clash could’ve been heard for miles and I don’t want to be here when someone comes looking.”

Maxis began grumbling under his breath, no doubt annoyed that he had to carry Aeris again. Nothing had roused her from her sleep.

“Is there something wrong with that dragon?” Bluen asked. “She has not moved since I arrived.”

“She’s fine,” Janine said quickly. “She…she just needs to sleep.”

Everyone avoided looking at each other. Windor knew why. It was something he had been avoiding thinking about as well. Aeris had been asleep for days now and nothing woke her. They had even tried a few times, but she wouldn’t even open her eyes. What if she never woke up? How long should they wait? What would they do if that time ever came?

He chose not to think about it. She was going to wake up. She had to.

Nothing more was said as they finished packing up, getting Aeris onto Maxis’ back and tying her down so she wouldn’t fall off. The remaining supplies were divvied up between everyone except Windor and Bluen. Windor tried to protest but it was pointed out he couldn’t push himself with his injuries. “We still don’t know what you did to yourself,” Nesse had said. “Until we figure out the extent of the damage, you need to take it easy. Figure out what happened and we’ll talk.”

But he didn’t know what happened. He just remembered his body felt very hot which struck him as odd given a dragon’s high heat tolerance.

The whole day was strange. He still couldn’t believe he killed a Matriarch. But there was no joy. Defeating a powerful foe was every dragon’s dream. Or at least that was what he was told. His whole life was to be spent getting stronger because he was expected to be powerful.

It was why he envied domesticates. They didn’t have to live that way. Their human caretakers didn’t care if they were strong.

“Excuse me, but are you available to talk?” Bluen asked.

Windor started at the gryphon's seemingly sudden appearance. “Uh, sure. I’m surprised you haven't left yet.”

“I gave it some thought and concluded that this land is dangerous,” the gryphon replied. “Not quite the monster’s den the legends made it out to be, but still not to be taken lightly. And you are more knowledgeable of this land than I. It would be the smartest move.” He added with a small smile. “Also, I am quite curious about dragons and I found one who does not want to kill me.”

“I can understand that. But why not talk to Nesse? I’m sure she’s dying to ask you a few things herself.”

Fear briefly flashed in the bird’s brown eyes. “I…would rather not. That woman with her would join us and she—”

“Is a bit much? Yeah, you get used to it. Kinda. So anyway, what do you want to know?”

“Are you all right?”

He didn’t expect that question.

“You are bothered by the kill,” Bluen explained to Windor’s stupefied expression.

“Because it shouldn’t have worked. I’m—nevermind. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“I am surprised you became so well-versed in how a gryphon thinks in such a short time.”

“That’s not what I mean. I just…” Fuck it. It’s not like I can fall any further. “She was a Matriarch and I’m an outcast.”

“And these ‘Matriarchs’ are powerful, I take it?”

“You have no idea. Only Matriarchs are allowed to lead us. They command respect just by existing. They stand above all other dragons.”

“And who decided this?”

“They did!” Windor cried. “You have no idea what they can do! I watched a single Matriarch take control of an entire city just by thinking it! Everyone bowed to her and did as she said.”

The gryphon’s eyes widened. “I see. That is powerful. Admittedly, dragon culture is foreign to me, but it sounds as if much is expected of you.”

“It is,” Nesse said from in front of them. She slowed until she walked alongside them. “Dragons value strength and pride above all else. We’re strong and we have to show it with everything we do. We’re never second best because we are the best. And not even the All-Mother will help you if you hurt our pride in any way.”

Brandy noticed Nesse had fallen back and her face lit up, but a subtle shake of the head from Nesse made the woman face forward again, pouting.

“And what happens to dragons who are not the best?” Bluen asked.

Nesse jerked her head towards Windor. “You end up like him. Or dead. Usually both in that order.”

“So if one is marked as an outcast, their fate is sealed?”

“More or less. There are ways to get it reversed, but it’s pretty rare. Usually, once you’re an outcast you can forget getting anyone to even look at you, let alone take anything you say or do seriously.”

“It’s not as if they didn’t deserve it,” Windor said. “Outcasts are kicked out for a reason.”

“Yeah, because they didn’t follow the rules,” Nesse replied stiffly. “You know full well if a dragon breaks the law, we either kill them or exile them. Outcasts are a warning to anyone to doesn’t meet the status quo.”

Windor fell silent. Her words cut deeper than expected. It was true, his fate had been sealed long before his outcast status. He hated violence and he was never the strongest, never the fastest, never the smartest. It was one of the reasons why he left his clan. If he hadn’t, he would have been marked sooner or later.

“Forgive me for saying this, but dragons sound very controlling,” Bluen said. “Deciding one’s worth and shunning them for it? That sounds like a very harsh way to live.”

“We all judge to some extent,” Nesse said. “So how do gryphons do it?”

“We determine your worth by your contribution to the kettle. The young are an exception.”

“And if you don’t?”

“If the kettle cannot use you, you do not live with them. And yes, it can be quite cruel since even those with skills can be exiled.”

“Why’s that?” Windor asked.

“Because they already have someone who can what you do better,” Nesse replied. “Is that right?”

Bluen nodded, his expression solemn.

“So it’s a constant race to stay relevant. Sounds rough.”

“It is how things are.”

Windor clenched his jaw. How he hated that sentence. “It was how things were” was always the go-to response, the excuse to do whatever they wanted. It had always been that way so no one had the right to question it.

He looked back to Aeris. The living proof it was not how things were. Domesticates were not weak and her worth couldn’t be decided by anyone.

Thinking back on it. Maybe that was why he was drawn to her. Even when they first met and she was timid, she still had a fearless side that showed when she needed it most. He liked that about her because it was what he wanted to be. He wanted her strength, her confidence, her sureness, her drive. She spat in the face of dragon law without hesitation and regretted nothing.

What did he do? The first time things got tough, he ran. He closed his eyes prayed it went away.

A feathery wing waving in his face snapped him out of his thoughts. He noticed Nesse had returned to Brandy’s side, leaving him alone with Bluen again.

“You never decided your worth did you?” the gryphon asked.

“What?”

“The look in your eyes. You are conflicted, confused, and angry. I know that look because it is the same look my son had.”

“You have a son?”

He nodded, his gaze distant. “You remind me of him. He was also unhappy with his place in the world. He wanted to be a warrior like me, but the kettle already had enough strong warriors. They did not need more. What they wanted was more raptors.”

“Raptors?”

“They gather food and make sure everyone has what they need.”

“Oh, so like a hunter then. But don’t warriors hunt?”

“We do to improve our skills, but it is not our job. Hunting takes time, a lot of time. Warriors never stray far to respond quickly to threats. My son wanted to be a warrior, but the kettle demanded he become a raptor or else he find a new place to live.”

“That’s harsh. What happened?”

“He left. Watching him leave was the hardest thing I have ever done.”

“You didn’t go with him?”

“No. He said it was his path to walk, not mine. I had my place and he needed to find his.”

“So what happened? Did he find a place?”

Bluen was silent for a long time. Windor was about to try changing the subject when the gyphon spoke again. “I do not know. I have not seen him again. That was…about 20 years ago.”

“You don’t keep in touch with other kettles?”

“We are spread too far apart and do not travel. Perhaps the other raptors meet one another in the wild.” He turned back to Windor. “But that is enough about him. He has his path and I have mine. Apparently, it has led to you.”

“What, like destiny? You can’t be serious.”

“You do not believe in destiny?”

“I don’t like to believe that there was nothing I could do.”

“Because it would mean you were destined to be weak and an outcast? Because then your struggles for acceptance would be in vain?”

Windor dropped his head. “Yeah, don’t spare my feelings or anything.”

The gryphon chuckled. “Forgive me. I have often been told I should choose my words more carefully. I was struck in the beak very often as a youngling, but apparently, the lesson never stuck.”

It was Windor’s turn to laugh. Imagining a smaller version of the gryphon being repeatedly struck in the mouth for talking too much chased away the dark thoughts plaguing him.

When his laughter died down, Bluen spoke again. “I will tell you the same thing I told my son: Do what you will. There is no greater regret than the action not taken.”

“That’s it?”

“What else is there? The only path you have to walk is yours so why should you not chart the course? One day you will understand as he did.”

“He chose to leave. You’re gonna tell me he doesn’t regret it?”

“He likely does, but I know he would regret staying even more.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he did not come home.”

“I don’t want to burst your bubble, but there’s a lot of reasons he may not have come home.”

“I am aware. But do you know for certain which one is the right one?”

“How could I possibly know that?”

“Then what makes you believe my choice is wrong?”

He didn’t have a response for that. Just like that, he understood what the advice meant. Was that it? Was that really all there was to it? All this time, the demons he had been fighting were the ones he created?

Without a word, he jogged until he caught up to Maxis and Aeris. It was a bit awkward, but he managed to lean in and nuzzle her face softly. She groaned and leaned into the gesture.  He pulled away before the sense of happiness and nostalgia became too strong.

“What are you doing?” Maxis asked.

“Making sure she knows we’re waiting for her.”

“Do it later. If she shifts and kicks me again, you’ll carry her.”

Windor chuckled but backed away. Maxis wasn’t the type to make idle threats. Still, he remained close by. This was his choice. No more debating. No more fear of messing up again. No more punishment. So long as she was happy. That was all that mattered.

Post-Story Notes:

Hopefully you enjoyed this tale that is Windor’s recovery story. The poor guy has really had it rough and the more I write him, the more I like this character and what he represents. This story also means to shine a light on some of the darker aspects of dragon society. What it’s like for the more “common” ones who don’t stand a chance of becoming clan leaders and to also talk about something in our society that’s been bothering me for quite some time. But the message doesn’t quite hit the same if I sit down and explain it so I’ll leave it to you to determine its meaning and draw your own conclusions.

Also, I should address the obvious inclusion of a new species in the universe! Yes, this is the debut of gryphons in WDR. They were always going to be added, it was just a matter of how. And this feels like the best way; something that isn’t directly tied to the plot and gives a sense of a larger world outside the scope of the story. Hopefully, you enjoyed Bluen because this is not the last we’ll see of him or the gryphons in general.