It made it easier, in a way.
They made their way to the hatching grounds, and Celia wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that there was a fire dragon nest currently hatching.On one hand, it meant that she had something to distract her while she watched her babies chase Darian around one last time.
On the other hand, it meant that she was torn between watching them and watching the new nest.
But the nest didn’t need her attention for a bit, so she watched as the babies played, her heart breaking a little.
They would be fine with each other, but would she be fine without them?She wasn't sure.
She watched half-heartedly as the last baby dragon climbed out, something in her chest saying this was the last one.She watched as her babies investigated the new fire dragons with curiosity.
They really were going to have so much fun exploring everything in their new home.There was nothing they loved more than exploring—she knew that much.
As the last dragons hatched, Darian helped her use the shovels to carefully scoop dirt away from the nest.There were no babies that needed her help in this one, a bittersweet realization.
It was the end of the hatching season.There was one water dragon nest left that might need her help, but the chances of there being a water dragon that needed help were slim.She hadn't had one yet.They seemed to be less likely to injure themselves, somehow.
There was a lump in her throat as Flame made her way over to her, her big, scaly head against Celia’s side.
“I sure am going to miss you,” she told Flame, the words catching in her throat as she knelt down to be on her level.“Don’t tell your brother and sister that you’re my favorite.”
Flame let out a noise as if she was saying,I know,and Celia smiled at her, kissing her nose before Flame let her heavy head rest on her shoulder.
“You have to go to the Gloaming Mountains,” she whispered into the dragon’s ear.“You know that, right?”
Flame let out another noise, as if she was asking Celia if she was really asking that question.
“I know, you know,” Celia said with a sigh.“You don’t need me anymore.You’ve shown that plenty of times.But maybe I’m the one who needs you.”
The words came out in a whisper and there was a lump in her throat so big she could barely breathe as Flame rubbed her head against Celia’s neck one final time before making her way over to her brother and sister.
She said something, and Darian gave a short bow of respect before saying, “We will meet again.”
Sizzle said something, and Spark tackled Darian to the ground, pouncing on him as if he’d forgotten that he was now the size of a small horse.
“Easy,” Darian said, laughing.
Flame looked back at Celia, and if she hadn’t known better, Celia could have sworn that she almost winked before she began walking toward the mountains, without waiting for her brother and sister to follow her.
Celia smiled through her tears.Of course Flame was the first to go, the first one to leave.She might be the smallest, but she certainly was the leader.
As the two larger dragons caught up to their little sister, the three spread their wings and lifted into flight, sending a wall of flame into the air before zooming toward the mountains at a speed she rarely got to see.
There was an ache in her chest that she couldn't ignore, and tears began to stream down her eyes as she watched her favorites leave.
Darian came close and wrapped his arm around her waist, and she turned into him, hiding her face on his shoulder so she didn't have to watch them grow smaller and smaller.
“We can go home,” he said.“Breeze will need you.”
“That's true,” she said, the words catching in her throat.
She turned to leave, and they watched as Breeze flew toward them from home, chasing after the fire dragons.
Celia nearly burst into tears.“Or not,” she said.
Darian let out a dry laugh.“Or not,” he agreed.“She must have ripped the bandage off.”His grip around her tightened for a moment before he said, “Why don't we go into town?I know just the place to take you to cheer up.”
Celia glanced at him.“You want to take me somewhere?”she asked.
