CHAPTER 6 – COMPANION FOR THE WAY

"Surrounded by strife! Drowned by sorrow! Engulfed by hate!

O, tragic wanderer of the Cosmos, where is thy salvation?"

– Onis Abdo, "Let Us Get To There"

Ætherday, first day of the year 999 of the Restoration Era

They looked at each other for a long time.

Airo peered into the dragonet's purple eyes. If it was not for the vertically-slit pupils, he could almost swear... no, it was impossible. Before him stood a dragon, and its gaze was indeed entirely different. As he watched, the colors in its eyes swirled gently, becoming lighter and softer. The gentle patterns made him feel a haunting familiarity, a sensation that was beyond all rationality. He tentatively reached out to touch the smoothly scaled hide of the dragonet, to assure himself truly of its existence. Its body was deep black from nose to tail-tip, the color so intense it seemed to absorb light itself, and was interrupted at irregular intervals by claw-like markings of dark magenta. The dragonet watched with interest as he brushed the fingertips of his power armor gauntlet against its fine, minuscule scales, its expression earnest and innocent. He stared back into its wide and intent eyes, and his throat clenched.

That look... it was the one Zenassa had just before she died. He felt a pair of warm streaks running down his cheeks, his skin stinging as the tears froze in the frigid air. That same look... if only...

The dragonet blinked at his reaction. "Why are you so sad?" it asked with a soft, clear voice.

Airo winced and jerked away as if struck. It had spoken – no, she had spoken, for the voice was definitely feminine, despite the alien overtones – as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Bewildered and inexplicably furious, he glanced at the creature again. The dragonet flapped her wings in mild alarm. "What is wrong?" she asked, concern touching her amethyst eyes.

"Nothing," he replied mechanically. He hauled himself to his feet, the trance broken completely. He looked over the dragonet more closely. Her body was bulky and rotund, and she had short, almost comically stubby limbs. She had six digits on each paw. Her wings were tiny, stunted things, in garish contrast with the heavy bone fins which ran along the length of her back. Only the tail looked normal, long and slender yet moving with hidden power, as the dragonet swished it absently.

"Oh," she said, uncertain. "All right then. Do you know where are we?" She had a strong, long snout with broad jaws, and her head was adorned with a magnificent set of horns and twin crests. They gave her a regal bearing, completely opposite of the appearance of her body.

"You," Airo harshly emphasized, "and I, are on a planet called Terra Para." He spotted his katana sticking in the snow nearby, and went to retrieve it.

"Terra Para," the dragonet repeated, as if tasting the name. "How strange that sounds! Oh, what is that you are holding?"

"A weapon," Airo snapped darkly, sheathing the katana in its purple-black scabbard. He noticed the striking resemblance the scabbard had with the dragonet's hide, and glanced in her direction, narrowing his eyes.

"Weapon! You fight with it, right? And is this snow around us? It is quite cold, actually! Do you have something to eat? I am hungry, and–"

Airo ignored her words. He again took in the striking blackness of her body. The dragonet's complexion seemed unusual, like it was something beyond mere coloration.

"–and the sun is so bright! Wait, there are two suns! Or maybe there are more? Is snow eatable? I tasted a little yet it was mostly water. Do you see–"

He examined his gear. He found the flexpack discarded to the side, alongside the now-broken egg. The virtualizer was buried in the snow pile he had been in. The power armor's helmet had automatically retracted. The suit was completely inert, and the auxiliary interfaces on the forearms weren't working. So much for future technology. Airo ignored the biting cold encircling his head. He gathered his things, and prepared to depart.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

There was only one thing left.

"–are you doing now? What is that strange object? Is it food? It does not seem like food. Maybe it has it inside? You should open–"

"Silence," Airo hissed.

The dragonet stopped her excited jabber, and her eyes widened anxiously.

Airo watched her with a grim frown. Like dark clouds, the reality of the situation descended upon his mind. He laid a hand on the katana's hilt, and noticed how the dragonet flinched slightly.

Despite her being a mere hatchling, she was still a damned dragon.

Yet, beyond her heritage, she had done nothing to earn his ire. It infuriated him, how she was able to talk and act independently straight out of the shell, and yet was essentially a child. Had she been an adult, he would've cut her down without hesitation. As it stood now, this was as impossible an act for him as restoring the crashed starship with his own two hands. What was worse, he couldn't think about the dragonet as a mere creature; she was, in every possible sense, a sapient being, a conscious individual. A person.

Still, he resented her to the core of his soul.

"What is your name?" he asked suddenly, surprising himself.

The dragonet looked at him for a second in stunned silence. Then she lowered her head, and her tail fell limply beside her. "I... I... do not have one," she quavered.

"And yet you talk and know things," Airo said. "How?"

"I... just know," the dragonet said apologetically. "And I heard voices from outside while I was inside my shell. And I have been... remembering, I think. Something like that," she added lamely. "But I have no name," she concluded, downcast.

Airo watched the dragonet, yet he wasn't seeing her. His thoughts were far away across time and space.

Was this your idea, Zee? Was it you who instilled in them the desire to have an identity, to be able to call a unique resonance their own? Or did you merely give them the power to do so?

"Will you... give me a name?"

Airo blinked. The dragonet had lifted her head, and she was looking at him with bright, hopeful eyes.

"What?" he asked, amazed.

"Will you give me a name?" she repeated pleadingly, her voice nearly breaking.

Airo took a breath. Great Cosmos, what is happening?

"All right," he said flatly.

"Yay!" the dragonet whooped, and bounced a couple of times in excitement. "What is my name?" she asked impatiently.

Airo paused to think of something. Unsurprisingly, his mind drew blank. He debated silently to give the hatchling some crude name, like an insult or a colorful epithet yet decided it was too degrading – to him. He certainly wasn't going to give her a human name, yet he also didn't know any draconic names.

He remembered how his division used to bring scores of specimens to Zenassa's lab. She named every one of them, even the dead ones they brought at first. She studied them with as much focus as the other researchers, yet she also treated them with loving kindness which baffled her colleagues. Airo never understood her either, though at the time he also had held respect for the great beasts, albeit of an altogether different caliber. He recalled one of the rare times Zenassa was out of the research center, on a field expedition to some archaic ruins. His division had been tasked with escorting the researchers, and he had observed her excited behavior with incomprehension. She talked on and on about dragons, referring to them as if they had been self-aware beings all along and had had their own ancient legends and culture. Airo, then watching carefully for trouble, had listened to the lectures with one ear, and didn't remember anything.

However, one name emerged from the clouded depths of memory: Veralla. The name supposedly belonged to some draconic goddess, he seemed to recall. He frowned slightly. It was a tad imperious to name someone after a deity, yet he couldn't come up with a better alternative. Of course, he could always pretend it was a mocking gesture, and not a bestowement of some high honor.

Airo cleared his mind, and turned to the expectant dragonet.

"Veralla," he said simply.

"My name is Veralla?" the dragonet asked tentatively.

"Yes."

"My name is Veralla," she repeated. "Ve-ral-la. Veralla. I like it! It sounds so big and ancient and wise!" She bounced around, lashing her tail and flapping her wings happily, saying her name again and again. "And what is your name?" she asked, finally calming down.

He was just turning away, intent to leave, and stopped halfway.

"Airo," he said after a long pause.

"Do you have something to eat, Airo?" Veralla asked eagerly, coming closer. "I am very hungry!"

"I do." He rematerialized a pair of carbo-protein packs, and threw them on the ground. "Goodbye," he said, and started toward an arched overhang where the sunlight poured from.

The dragonet caught up just as he was crossing the overhang.

"Wait! Wait! Should I eat them whole? I ate them whole! They were not very tasty and—"

"Leave me alone," Airo said in a low voice.

Veralla's pupils widened, and she lashed her tail left and right rapidly. "B-but why? I want to come with you!"

"Stay away," Airo growled. He drew two inches of his katana, and the crystal blade gleamed dangerously in the sunlight. "Or else."

The dragonet froze in place, staring at the blade in fear. He stood a few moments longer to let the threat sink in, then reset the katana, and turned away, walking along the narrow pathway leading out of the fissure.

Behind him came the soft, keening sounds of the abandoned hatchling.