As I stepped up to the space behind the trio, I noticed that they had made quite the mess for three kids. Every surface in the area had been drawn on, and a noticeable trend of anarchistic swirls and zig-zags spanned the width of the designated drawing area. Scattered within the jagged lines and loops were cartoonish depictions of little stick kobolds, some small and similar to a few notable hatchlings, and a depiction of a large crocodilian one that must be grandma. Which one of them had drawn it? I suppose one of them, or perhaps all of them, were actually awake when she visited.

My eyes wandered over to a blank spot on the wall that had been intentionally left clean with a small pile of loose chalk stones off to the side. It looked as though I had a good five feet all around to work with, though I knew that I didn’t need the entire space all to myself. Taking a piece that seemed to fit in my hand just right, I sat by the wall and began to sketch like I used to way back when I had the inspiration to do so. With every line I was able to bring what I saw into the land of the living, and with each stroke I began to see more details that could be improved. This is why I ran out of inspiration so quickly: I always criticized my own art as I was drawing it.

“Wow! Sister draws very good!”

I glanced to my side to see which brother it was who just spoke, only to find a pair of black orbs staring at the wall beyond me. Damn Humey, how does a big boy like you sneak around like that? Or maybe I’m just easily distracted, since Tokols was able to do the exact same thing earlier. Either way, the chunky kobold boy was sitting next to me with a look of awe in his eyes. I guess he doesn’t care about the little details, since his own talent was currently limited to stick figures and scribbles.

All I had drawn so far was a portrait style picture of Tokols, and the beginning outline of both our mother and father. Since I was limited to only white chalk on a red earthen canvas, I had opted to go easy on the shadows and depth. It wasn’t very good, at least from what I could discern, though I could give myself a break given the circumstances.

“Draw me!”

Humey was now enthusiastically jabbing his finger at an empty space on the wall, his nubby little claw clacking against the stone with each poke. I shooed his hand away from the spot and got to work on getting his face transcribed onto the wall. It was a lot easier to draw him since instead of drawing from memory I had the living reference sitting right next to me. By the end, I had managed to create a likeness of him on the wall.

The ecstatic kobold clapped and stamped his feet in a circle before darting over to where Mibata was busy drawing. Brother in tow, he returned to where I was seated and began jabbing at another blank spot on the wall.

“Draw him! Sister good draw!”

Mibata took a moment to look at the portraits himself before turning to me with similar excitement.

“Face! Face! Draw face!”

How could I say no to that? Second verse, same as the first, and I had now drawn onto the wall all three of the goofballs. Humey seemed incredibly interested in the pictures, and was attempting to recreate them himself. Mibata, however, tugged at my arm while pointing towards where he had been drawing. His face wasn’t one of happiness, but more of concern.

“Look! Look!”

My pink toned brother led me over to an area decorated by convoluted criss-cross patterns and squares, where he directed my attention to a drawing of some sort. A kobold with red eyes, which were made from some of Humey’s scales, was standing in an empty space. Above them was a bigger kobold with huge horns spewing what might be flames from their… everywhere, really, and going in for a bite off of red-eyes. Next to the red eyed person was a drawing of a…cage…

Inside of the cage were four little kobolds.

They looked sad, curled up on the floor.

One was standing up in the back of the cage.

They were the smallest, but they didn’t look sad.

They looked angry.

I locked eyes with Mibata, and was surprised to see that he was rather despondent. His little hands were grasping at the air at his sides, seemingly unable to remain still. The poor kid seemed to have a grudge against our captor, and didn’t seem to have the words to express himself. I pulled at his arm, snapping him out of his trance.

I pointed to the drawing, specifically the red eyed kobold. Mibata croaked out a single word.

“Bad.”

Then to the cage.

“Alone.”

Then to the fire-spewing kobold.

“Mom.”

I didn’t know what else to do other than hug him. Out of the three, it seemed that he was the most observant of what the adults were doing. He remembered being locked in that cage, of how afraid he was being separated from his mother. He also seemed to remember when she came back for me in all of her righteous fury to bring me back. I couldn’t help but feel responsible for how messed up his life had been so far.

Mibata remained still as I held onto him for a while, until he eventually put his gangly arms around me in return. I looked up for a moment to gauge his response, only to see that he was smiling back down at me. I tried to pull away, but he seemed hesitant to let me go. He pointed back to the drawing, and to the red eyed kobold.

“No t-take you. Home. Safe.”

What… Did he mean that He was worried about me? Why would he…

It all clicked at that moment. Mibata was the kind of kid to watch and listen, and had some understanding of what was going on. He recognized that the things that had been happening were all because of me, and that I was the target of the red-eyed kobold. His art wasn’t about what was bothering him, he was trying to ask ME how I was doing. He was able to recognize that I was in danger, and was more concerned with my well-being than his own. But… why?

I wish I could ask him, but even now my voice could only manage a painful squeak. As soon as I attempted to speak Mibata shook his head. His arms released me, and he pointed over towards Humey, who had stood up and was waving and calling us. It seemed that he didn’t want to talk about it, or perhaps that he couldn’t yet. He and I aren’t so different, it seemed.

We arrived at where he had worked to make a portrait, and I honestly couldn’t tell who I was looking at. There were three practice sketches off to the side, with each looking like a botched copy of my work, and a single portrait drawing placed closer to my work. The features were longer and more angular than the others, and the expression was hard to read. Worst of all, he had tried to do shadowing, which made the entire sketch look smudged. But hey, I’m no art professor brother, and art is art, no matter the standards held to it. 10/10.

“Kayrux.”

Humey was pointing at his work and beaming with pride as he declared that the person he had drawn was me.

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“Kayrux sister, is you!”

Tokols was standing behind me again, pointing at the picture giddily.

I hadn’t seen myself yet, though I was able to tell just from feeling my own face that he had drawn me. The sleek beak-like shape of my face, the position of my eyes, and the ridges and grooves following the length of my head. It was surreal to see a portrait of myself before ever seeing my reflection. I found myself tracing the edge of his work with one claw as I imagined what it must look like with color. I didn’t even know what color my own eyes were.

My pondering was ended by a knocking against the seamless door that Bahruk had made, the sound being enough to cause the trio of brothers enough unease that they slithered into the nearest alcove while dragging me along with them. I soon found myself shoved into the back of the divot in the wall, with the three brothers forming a wall between me and the exit.From my fortified position, I could see that mom had stopped whatever cooking she had started and was now coiled beside the door with wisps of smoke trailing from her nostrils, and that dad was slowly unmaking the barricade enough to peek outside. As soon as he had made a sizable window, the head of a purple kobold jammed itself through the door while shouting at Bahruk.

“BROTHER! I RETURN! GACK-”

I almost watched a murder happen. The surprise was enough to make Bahruk attempt to close his makeshift window, which now had the head and neck of a suddenly appearing sibling jammed inside. Meanwhile, I had watched as Juaki had wound up a haymaker and had charged her fist with enough fire magic to make it glow red. She had barely stopped herself before turning the violet trespasser into smoked lizard, instead leaving a blackened fist impression on the stone adjacent to them. The look of fear in the newcomers' eyes was so genuine that I’m sure they had seen the face of Death in that moment.

After a moment of profuse apologies from both parties, the visitor was allowed inside and the door was made normal once more. This guy, who I can only guess must be our uncle, was the first kobold I had seen that was wearing clothes. That’s only a half truth, since Chalk Eater was technically wearing a cloak, but that’s like saying a towel is a piece of clothing. Uncle here was wearing pants with a matching jacket of some kind, and on his back was an overstuffed backpack. His whole attire made him look like a traveling merchant, and his exuberant demeanor only drove the idea home. This guy definitely would approach you on the side of the road in an attempt to pawn off some wacky gizmo of his.

Once our guest was inside the room proper he pulled a crate out from one of the alcoves on the far wall and plopped himself down on it like a chair, while dad merely made one from the stone floor and mom just sat on her tail like a kangaroo. Once they were seated and had exchanged some small talk our guest began looking around the room as a worried look came across his face.

“Brother, where are eggs? Did something happen?”

Bahruk shook his head before turning to face our hiding spot. He gestured for us to come over to him while calling to us.

“My boys, come and greet your family.”

Even when being called by their own father, the three were hesitant to move. Juaki glanced over at us with a decidedly more direct approach.

“Kayrux, over here.”

The boys didn’t try to stop me as I made my way past them, though I could hear their timid footsteps behind me as I made my way over. Once within range of mother’s hands she hoisted me up and sat on her knee, which was an oddly comfortable seat with how warm it was. The boys, not wanting to feel left out, clambered up onto the seat alongside dad, who had to use his powers to extend his chair into a bench. Once the four of us had joined in the conversation, there came a little introduction time hosted by Juaki.

“These our hatchlings. Firescale one Humey, asker of many questions. Shroom color one is Mibata the watchful. Small hatch of snow is most playful, our Tokols. This one our shadow-moon egg. She…”

The hand that was resting on my side to keep me from slipping tightened for a moment. Mother was on the verge of tears again, and all I could do was lean against her and nuzzle her shoulder. Seeing that his spouse was unable to continue, Bahruk took the initiative and explained what had happened to us. Everything, from how we were confiscated under suspicion of being possessed or cursed, how mom had to fight the will of a mage to save me from his spells, and how even then the slimy old bastard came back and throttled me. The expression of the purple one darkened as the story was told, the previously cheery aura being replaced by one of contempt.

“Vile, disgusting old toad has been elder too long. Forgets that colony thrive together, that young are precious. He will never taste the surface wine again, not ever! Curses of the scale-less on him!”

Before he could go on a tangent, Bahruk lashed at him with his whip-like tail, giving his brother a light swat on the foot.

“Brother! Hatchlings don’t need to know curses.”

Actually, no, I would love to know more swear words pops. They’re kinda important for venting frustrations against certain enemies of my existence. Unfortunately for me, it seems that our visitor was willing to heed that warning.

“Sorry, tongue must have slipped. Ugh, is rat-dung when elders do bad, need new elders with big hearts. No reason dwell on it, Yabtin bring surface wares to you, as promise.”

Surface wares, it seemed, was just about everything uncle Yabtin could find. Assorted cutlery, plants of every shape and color, mismatched articles of clothes, and a wide variety of odds and ends you could probably buy at a market. Every time a new object was taken out of the bag, the trio would ask about it, to which our uncle would explain what it was and what it does to the captive audience. They seemed to trust him now that he had a name to go with his face, and that dad was also crouched by his overstuffed bag rummaging through it with apparent joy.

As more items were pulled from the bag, a growing sense of unease settled in me until Yabtin pulled from his bag a small wooden case. The thing smelled of magic, and the feeling of its presence sent my mind back to when I was in the cage. No, it’s not the same, it’s not dangerous. I had to repeat that to myself multiple times before it actually calmed me down, though it might have been because of the embrace that Juaki put me in once I had begun shaking. Her gem-like eyes stared down at me with a look of concern.

“Kayrux, what wrong?”

I raised a finger towards the wooden case, and mom was quick to grasp the situation.

“Yabtin, you bring magics into my den? Little one smell danger, begin shake when that box leave bag.”

Yabtin looked from us to the box a few times, a look of alarm plastered on his face.

“Uh, is not bad magic, I swear! Small enchant things, little trinkets bought from surface sellers.”

Before any idea I would or wouldn’t have could form a firm hand was placed over my head.

“No eat magics, Kayrux. Danger. Bad.”

Alright, you’ve made your point. Gently pushing against her hand, I was eventually able to see the room again as I shook myself loose from her grip. Folding my arms, I began to feign a pout just to be a little irritating. A groan of irritation escaped Juaki as she set me on the floor next to her. Yabtin seemed to be utterly terrified of having slighted mother, but I wasn’t afraid to give her a little sass.

Even with my back turned, I could still make out the conversation between my merchant uncle and draconic mother.

“That one smells the magic and fears, and does not speak. Is something wrong? Was she cursed?”

“My daughter not cursed. Elder hurt little one bad, not even mama Tuleni magic fix what broke. Voice gone. Might not ever fix.”

“B-but she is young, maybe if give heal syrup every night, she fix…”

“Not enough trade to get so much. Would need leave three whole moons to trade for. Only have one cup for us. Cannot leave them so young for moneys.”

The two went silent, and I had realized that I had unfolded my arms and was absently scratching at the floor. Someone then came close to me and crouched in front of me. An orange hand was offered, and upon taking it I was pulled to my feet. Bahruk led me over to the bag, from which he pulled out a canvas sack. He carefully untied the twine that held the bag closed, and in a moment I had a glimmer of hope.

“Maybe she never fix, but she is smart. Maybe written words are hers.”

Books. Three of them. Each bound in thick leather and held closed with a brass button on a strap. My eyes must have widened to an incredible degree from how he laughed.

“See? Our hatch smart, she knows what no others know already. She is God gifted.”

There you go again, being too smart for your average cave dweller there dad. He set the books in front of me, which was a smart call, as when I went to lift the top one I could barely tilt the damn thing before my fingers slipped. These tomes were heavier than they looked, and I was unfortunately quite eager to learn. Yabtin voiced his concern as he watched me battle the stubborn buckle.

“God gift? Such ferocious spirit, I might confuse her for angry cave scuttler.”

Both of my parents shot him a dirty glare, shutting his lips without a word. Bahruk helped me defeat the difficult seal holding back the pages of knowledge with a single pull on the strap. He smiled and ran a claw over the top of my head.

“Ferocious, yes, just like dragon. I teach her the words and letters, and she may be wise like dragon too.”

The mention of ancient beasts and becoming like them drew the attention of the trio, who had ransacked the bag thoroughly. They scampered over and began yipping in excitement, each begging to learn as well.

“Haha! Such energy in these pups! Good, I teach all the way of words, Juaki too!”

Mother sneered at him, giving him a visible display of her fangs.

“Stubborn mate! Fine, I learn for dearest and my spawn. We grow wise as one.

This was good. If I could communicate through writing, and my family understood, then I wouldn’t need my voice even if I did recover. Take that,fate!