The Soul of a Dragon

Chapter 68

Fishlegs

The sky stretches wide and blue above us, the sun casting a warm glow over the landscape. I can't help but feel a sense of inspiration as we soar through the air, the gang flanking me, our dragons cutting through the clouds. It's only been a few days since the battle, but it feels like an eternity. So much has changed. The hybrids we freed are scattered across the islands, and it's our job to find them and make sure they're safe. We owe them that much. Guilt and pain pierce my chest because I can't imagine what they've been through. But my heart flutters at the thought of exploring and finding new dragon species. New dragons, hybrids we've never seen before, are out there, waiting to be discovered. My fingers itch to document them all, to study them, to understand what they've been through and how we can help them recover.

Stormfly glides beside us, her sharp eyes scanning the ground below. "Look over there," Astrid calls, pointing to a distant speck of movement. "It's another one!"

I lean forward on Meatlug's back, squinting against the sunlight. I have my notebook ready. It's already filled with documentations on different hybrids. I can't wait to think of what to name them. Sure enough, a massive dragon, a strange mix of a Monstrous Nightmare and a Skrill, lumbers through the forest below, its scales glittering with fire and electric energy. I remember that one. My heart aches at the sight. It's beautiful, but it's also a reminder of the pain these creatures have endured during the battle.

"Come on, girl," I murmur to Meatlug, guiding her down toward the hybrid. As we approach and land, the dragon rears back, snapping its teeth at us, its eyes wild with fear. My heart twists. How much has it suffered? How many battles has it been forced to fight?

"Easy, there," I call out gently, holding up my hands in what I hope is a non-threatening gesture. "We're not here to hurt you."

The hybrid hesitates, its wings twitching nervously. I can see the scars crisscrossing its body, the places where Grimmel's poison collars must have dug into its flesh. But I know those scars are too big to be caused by only that. Grimmel must have tortured them. I'm glad he's gone. My stomach churns with anger and sadness. No dragon should have to go through that.

I glance back at the others, who are hovering in the sky above, watching anxiously. "We've got to be careful," I call up to them. "It's scared."

Gothi nods at me, signalling that she can see no wounds or anything that should be treated. Good. That's good.

"Just do your thing, Fishlegs," Snotlout yells, his voice tinged with impatience. "We don't have all day."

I ignore him, my focus entirely on the hybrid. "Hey, buddy," I murmur softly. "You're okay now. No one's going to hurt you."

Slowly, I reach into my satchel and pull out a piece of dried fish. The hybrid's eyes flicker to it, and I can see the hunger there. It must have been on its own since the battle, struggling to survive.

"Come on," I whisper, tossing the fish a few feet in front of me. The hybrid sniffs the air, then cautiously steps forward, its massive claws sinking into the earth. I hold my breath, watching as it sniffs the fish, then gobbles it up in one bite.

A smile spreads across my face. "That's it," I say gently. "See? We're friends."

The hybrid looks at me, its eyes softening. For a moment, we just stand there, the silence between us filled with understanding. Then, with a low rumble, it spreads its wings and takes off, disappearing into the sky.

I watch it go, a mixture of relief and sadness in my heart. "I hope you find peace, wherever you're going," I whisper.

Meatlug nudges me gently, her eyes filled with sympathy. I pat her head, grateful for her comfort. We've done what we can, but there are so many more dragons out there who need our help.