Three days later, Night was hatched. Miss Tribi had been watching the children while the Tavern was in full swing. They’d even brought in their first Bard, and things really were picking up. They’d rented their second room to a couple of professional stone masons that were working on the new square.
It was really quite amazing that Miss Tribi’s voice carried over the din of the place, but it turned out that her lungs were up to the task.
“KREEEEEEET!!!!”
Suddenly all the noise in the tavern stopped. Kreet wasted one second to look at Kallid, then ran up the stairs at top speed. He was right behind her as they burst into their room.
Immediately they were both relieved to see both Grace and Kalindra pawing at each other on the blanket pile.
“What is it Miss Tribi?! What’s wrong?”
Miss Tribi stood up from the bed and they saw the glistening form of their third child, Night. He was as dark as his egg - a blue so dark as to be almost black. Midnight blue, though his belly was a much lighter tone. He was rooting at Miss Tribi’s breasts through her dress, but finding no purchase.
Kreet took him gently, and lifted her shirt to allow him access. He immediately began to suckle.
However, both Kallid and Kreet knew immediately upon looking at their son why Miss Tribi’s voice had carried a shrill note of alarm when she’d called. Night was different in more ways than simple color. He sported a small set of wings on his back.
Kallid stepped forward as Kreet sat on the bed. They both touched the wings and opened them. Certainly not functional. Not yet anyway, and they immediately folded flat against his back again.
“Well now that is a wonder,” Miss Tribi said, sitting back on the bed on Kreet’s opposite side.”A winged kobold.”
Kreet looked up at her while stroking her son’s back. “Is that… precedented? Have you ever read of a winged kobold?”
Miss Tribi shook her head. “Not that I recall. But the dragon progenitor believers would have a field day with him.”
Kallid cocked his head. “What do you mean? He’s no dragon, obviously!”
Kreet knew this myth, though. It had been high on her childhood reading interests. She began explaining to Kallid, though Miss Tribi’s corroborating nods indicated she knew the myth well.
“No, but those who believe we are descended from dragons… and they’re not few… will look for any possible excuse to show a lineage back to them. Surely you’ve ran into them in the Underdark?”
“Well, sure! Most very loose in the head if you ask me. They’re just trying to raise the stature of the kobold race though, I figure. I mean, we are pretty much at the bottom of the racial pyramid by almost any measure of sentient races, you must admit. I always thought a little pride in one’s race - even if it’s totally fictitious - is still a good thing. And let’s face it, present company excepted, there’s some pretty stupid kobolds down there.”
“There probably are, but there are some pretty stupid humans up here too,” Miss Tribi countered, and Kreet was happy to see her sticking up for a race she’d barely known - even if it was her own.
“Surely you don’t believe we are descended from dragons?” Kreet asked her. “I mean, really? If that were true I’d think it would speak more to our fall from that lofty height than anything we should be proud of!”
“Well, no. I don’t believe it either. I think in the long run it really doesn’t much matter. Besides, if we were descended from dragons, surely there would be some middle-form. A half-dragon, half-kobold race wouldn’t you think?”
Suddenly they all got the same idea and looked back at Night.
“Naaaaaa. He’s just got wings. That’s all!” Kallid said.
“Well, that’s not really what I meant anyway,” Miss Tribi continued. “I mean an entire race that’s somewhere in between the two. An individual… well, that’s just a…”
“He’s not a freak!” Kreet shouted a little too loudly.
“Aberration, I would have said!” Miss Tribi finished defensively.
“Well, he’s not anyway. Look at him. He’s the cutest of the lot!”
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As if on cue, the dark kobold released his grip on Kreet’s nipple and looked at the faces staring down at him. He resumed his suckling but began a sort of thrumming noise while continuing to look around.
“He is cute, there’s no denying that,” Miss Tribi agreed.
“What do you think the humans will think of him?” Kallid said, taking his own turn at stroking his son’s back and wings.
“Well, they liked Kalindra and Grace well enough. Why should Night be any different?”
“He looks like a gargoyle, do you realize?” Miss Tribi said.
“Well, maybe,” Kreet had to admit. “But a cute one! That matters!”
“Why, he does not,” Kallid argued. “He looks nothing like those stone monsters.”
“He might to the humans,” Kreet reminded him. “They don’t see us as we do.”
“Are you thinking we should hide his wings?” Kreet asked Miss Tribi..
“Well, that’s not going to work for long anyway,” she said. “But since he keeps them folded across his back now, it wouldn’t be hard. Maybe just till they get to know him. I mean, he’s already got an awfully dark color and, excuse any disrespect, but you did name him Night. That’s not a very comforting name to humans. I think maybe it would be best to do so - just till the locals get to know him at least.”
Kreet looked down at Night, who happened to be looking right back at her. He released her nipple and stared directly at his mother.
“Sorry, Night. It seems like everything is lining up against you having a peaceful life. It’s not your fault. You’re just my son, and no different from your sisters - except in ways you had no control over. Oh, Night. We’ll try our best to help, won’t we?”
“Of course,” Kallid said, and Miss Tribi concurred.
Marge was the first human to find out about Night’s wings. Kreet was delighted that she showed no particular alarm, though. But just to be safe, they began dressing the children in Kallid-designed simple clothes. Long shirts really. That the shirt covered Night’s wings was not a problem since the wings when folded were barely noticeable through the cloth, and the girls wore the same shirt so it went unnoticed. And Night was almost universally the darling of the three once he was presented to the customers in the tavern.
There turned out to be another problem, though Kreet didn’t want to acknowledge it. She noticed that whenever she would come to relieve Miss Tribi from babysitting duties, Night was reluctant to see Miss Tribi leave. Also, while the girls would scrabble their way over to her at the first sight of their mother, Night was a little less enthusiastic.
Kreet spoke of it with Miss Tribi, determined not to let it affect their friendship if she possibly could.
“I think it’s because he saw you first, to be honest,” Kreet said.
Miss Tribi sighed as they watched all three children playing on the floor. “That’s probably it. But what should I do? It would break my heart to leave, but maybe that would be best. At least for a while. Till he forgets me and understands you’re his mother.”
Kreet looked at her friend. The thought had crossed her mind, more than once. But to have her voice it directly was something Kreet herself could not have done. It left Kreet unable to answer. She couldn’t really agree, because that might look like she wanted Miss Tribi to leave. But she couldn’t argue against it because… well, because she did want Miss Tribi to leave.
Miss Tribi, however, was not clueless when it came to social interactions. She took the hint and, after some tearful farewells to the children, she left the Baby Dragon Inn and Kreet began her full-time motherhood.
It did work. Miss Tribi returned weekly, and Night did show a special fondness for her, but he soon seemed to realize the same affection for his real mother as the girls did. For that, Kreet was deeply grateful to Miss Tribi for understanding and sacrificing her own desires for Kreet and her family. It increased the bond between them, and Kreet began to think of Miss Tribi as her own sister.
In fact, as the children grew and began to learn to speak, they came to call her Aunt Tribi, which Kreet encouraged and Miss Tribi seemed to find delightful.
Of course, hiding Night’s wings couldn’t work for long. Once he had begun walking on two legs, when unencumbered he began to use the wings for balance. Yet when he was downstairs in the tavern, he had problems standing up as he could no longer extend the wings. In fact, it was Kallid who made the decision.
He had returned from a meeting of the design council and was watching his children in the pen he’d created. But poor Night was having a particularly bad time as the girls kept knocking him down. Kallid could see Night’s shirt trying to expand, and he would wince as the poor boy would fall yet again. The last straw was when he noticed Night had stopped trying to stand, and just stayed on all fours.
That night, Kallid made an ultimatum.
“It’s time, Kreet. Have you seen him? He tries so hard, but the girls just are too much. Up here, where he can really be himself, he has no problem at all.”
“Alright,” Kreet agreed, watching the children from their bed. She had taken to sleeping back on the bed in recent weeks. “Should we actually announce it, or just take his shirt off?”
“I don’t think it matters. Just so it’s done. I can’t stand to see him like that anymore.”
And so, Night’s wings were finally exposed to the public. There was no particular shock among the patrons - they’d already become accustomed to the oddness of kobolds in their midst. A winged one wasn’t all that much more unusual, and this was one they’d already come to know.
However, eventually Kallid had to put a top on the pen. Once freed from the imposed limitation of the shirt, Night soon had gotten good at using his wings for more than just balance. He began to use them to hop over and out of the pen, getting into mischief that was fortunately good-natured. But just like a dog wasn’t necessarily hated, yet still was inappropriate in a tavern, so was Night.
The top worked, but wasn’t often used. Instead, Kreet spent more time either outside in the courtyard, or up in their room during the evenings, with only occasional visits to the tavern.
And then the evening came when Night fell off the roof.