“My worst memory needs a bit of explaining, I’m afraid,” the large blue dragon began, and the mantle of quiet anticipation fell over the rest of the group.

  “That is totally fine,” Elli said encouragingly. “Since this is your first time sharing, it makes perfect sense for you to give us some context. I’m sure everyone is excited to learn more about you!”

  Indeed, judging by their faces, they were all curious to hear from the new snout in their midst.

  Oscar nodded, puffed twice, then began his story.

  “I was born in the dragon realm of Althareon, in the eastern parts that border on the human kingdom of Verantis. Both my parents were part of the dragon army of Althareon. My father was a highly decorated general, my mother an elite soldier with a vibrant history of bloodshed that sought its equal. Even when I was still a hatchling, they were rarely around. In the months leading up to the last dragon war, tensions were already high, and both of them were busy recruiting and bolstering our armies. Then, when the war started, they were immediately sent to the frontline, where they carved a trench of destruction through the southern parts of Verantis. But of course I was too young to join them, so I stayed back home, alone and … scared.”

  Oscar paused briefly, his breathing raspy. Flynn had only heard about this part of Oscar’s childhood once before — the dragon found it difficult to talk about his past, and would usually change the subject.

  “Most dragons I knew had left to join the fight, and only the young and frail stayed behind. We were easy pickings, and a vanguard of Verantis soldiers realized that. They crossed the border into Althareon, seeking revenge for all the pain and destruction the armies of the dragon emperor were causing elsewhere. When they came across my village, they pillaged what they could, and all dragons brave enough to fight back were killed.”

  The dragon gulped. “Suffice to say, that was pretty much everyone except for me.”

  “They killed your entire village?” the mermaid asked in horror. “I thought there were only young and frail dragons left.”

  Oscar nodded. “That didn’t stop them. And to be fair, I can’t even blame them. What the dragon armies did to Verantis was despicable. The human soldiers only reacted in kind.”

  A heavy silence followed, the light from the chandelier suddenly appearing pale and cold.

  Dora meowed.

  “She is asking what happened to you, then,” Clyde translated.

  Oscar shifted uncomfortably.

  “The soldiers took me alive. They made me a hostage and brought me back to Verantis.”

  “That’s terrible,” the manticore whispered.

  Oscar shifted his wings. “It was better than getting killed, I suppose. At the time, I was so frightened I couldn’t even walk. They had to put me on a wagon, like livestock on the way to the auction. Still, that didn’t stop them from putting me in chains and tying my snout shut like I was some wild beast.”

  “You were just a hatchling!” Patricia cried out.

  Oscar’s neck stiffened.

  “To them, I was the enemy,” the dragon growled with his gravelly voice. “And they made me feel it at every step of the way. When we reached Verantis, they paraded me through the streets in an effort to boost morale. The dragon army was winning the war at the time, and so my capture, trivial as it was, was presented as a turning point. Especially when they learned I was the son of a high-ranking general.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Of course, my father was unfazed by my capture. Or if he was, he didn’t let it show. Both he and my mother continued with their duties as if nothing ever happened. And so the humans were unsure what to do with me. They had tried to blackmail my parents with my execution, and …”

  The dragon broke off, sniveling. Being the sympathetic crier that she was, tears were running down Patricia’s soft cheeks. The centaur pensively stared at his hooves, his head low. Dora had stopped licking her paws and gazed at the large blue dragon with surprisingly empathetic eyes.

  “Well, anyway,” Oscar continued after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “The best the humans could think of was to give me to a caretaker. That’s how I met Flynn.”

  Suddenly, five and a half pairs of eyes were on Flynn, unsure what to make of his role in the story. Thankfully, they did not get a chance to ask their questions.

  “A couple of years later, when the last dragon war was finally over, my parents sought us out. Flynn and I were living in a small village at the time. It was a peaceful life, and I liked it. Nothing ever happened, and that was for the better. But then my parents showed up and demanded I return home with them. I have to admit, I wasn’t sure what to feel back then. They abandoned me when I was so young, and it had taken them years to come for me. Flynn had taken great care of me in the meantime, so the thought of just leaving him seemed wrong.”

  The dragon paused and glanced at Flynn, his amber eyes watery. Flynn bit his lip and gently patted Oscar’s flank.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Did you tell your parents that?” Elli asked.

  The blue scales under Flynn’s fingers started to tremble.

  “No,” Oscar admitted. “I went with them.”

  A moment of contemplative silence followed. Everyone except the cyclops seemed deep in thought, their expressions somber.

  Alas, the dragon sighed.

  “I guess a part of me thought we could finally be a family,” he murmured. “But it never got that far. In fact, they didn’t even take me back to Althareon. Instead, we went north, into the mountains, where there are more sheep than humans. They took me to a cliff overlooking one of the few secluded villages in that region. It was already dark when we got there, and only a handful of spitting torches glowed in the valley below us. Only then did they tell me what the purpose of our journey was.”

  The air seemed incredibly stiff all of a sudden, as if no one dared to release the collective breath they were holding.

  “You see, my parents are rather traditional dragons,” Oscar continued glumly, “They believe in the supremacy of their race, and they saw the peace treaty between humans and dragons as nothing short of an insult. They are loyalists, but not to an emperor too weak to win a war, but to the dragon empire as a whole. Even when their armies retreated from Verantis, they continued the fight — sometimes in the shadows, other times openly and with all the brutality they deemed befitting of their station. That night was such a time.”

  Even the cyclops was now showing signs of emotional involvement.

  “They wanted to recruit me for their cause. Naturally, they couldn’t imagine any other fate for their own son. It was not even about making them proud, it was about fulfilling the only future I could have — or at least, that’s what they thought.”

  The dragon squirmed on his pillow, his scales turning an unusually pale shade of pink.

  “We descended onto the village around midnight. My parents—”

  His raspy voice broke off, and a shiver ran down his horned spine.

  “They just—” the dragon began again, choking on his words.

  He turned his head to the side to hide the puddles framing his amber eyes. A jolt of pain shot through Flynn’s heart when he saw the expression on Oscar’s face. Sharing his story took everything out of the dragon, and the emotional exhaustion was catching up to him. It would take the large reptile quite some time to recover from this ordeal.

  A symphony of sniveling followed.

  “You don’t have to go on if you don’t want to,” Elli said softly.

  Oscar nodded, his breathing shaky.

  “Did you join them?” the cyclops asked flatly.

  “You don’t have to answer that,” the therapist interjected, shooting Bjorn a scolding look.

  The dragon shuddered. Flynn could tell that everyone in the room was dying to hear the answer to Bjorn’s question.

  “Maybe we take a step back and consider how we got here,” Elli proposed. “In the beginning, you mentioned that you were going to share your worst memory with us. Was it this night with your parents?”

  The dragon inclined his head.

  “Okay,” Elli said and nodded. “Conceptually, what made it so bad compared to your abduction as a hatchling? Or the treatment you endured in Verantis?”

  Oscar considered her words for a moment, wiping his nostrils with his leathery wings.

  “It was not just the violence itself,” he admitted. “It was about my parents. I realized they were not who I thought they were. And I—” the dragon sniveled violently —” was not what they expected their son to be like. We were never a real family before — but at that moment, we realized that we never could be.”

  Flynn bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. The pain kept him from exposing feelings he rather kept buried.

  “Did you talk about that with your parents?” Elli asked.

  The dragon shook his head.

  “No, I didn’t. At first, I was too scared. Then, it seemed obvious.”

  The therapist made a note of that.

  “What did you do instead?”

  The dragon puffed quietly. “I ran when they were distracted with their carnage.”

  “You mean you flew?” the cyclops asked.

  A flush of red crept up Oscar’s neck.

  “Your parents didn’t pursue you?” Leonardo inquired cautiously.

  “They didn’t think to look on the ground,” the dragon muttered.

  No one said anything for a long moment. The cyclops coughed awkwardly, and the sound of rear ends shifting on velvet crackled in the air.

  Eventually, Elli picked up the thread.

  “Is there anything you would do differently now?”

  The dragon took a moment to respond.

  “No,” he admitted.

  “So you are satisfied with how you handled things?” she probed.

  “No.”

  The soft scratching of Elli’s pen filled the air.

  “I don’t think I would ever be brave enough to tell them how I feel,” Oscar murmured, unprompted. “I wish that weren’t the case, but it is.”

  His large head hung low, his wings slumped.

  “You’d be surprised by how much therapy can improve our self-confidence in handling these kinds of situations,” Elli offered, served with a soft smile.

  “You can’t make a diamond out of a stone,” the dragon grumbled.

  “But there might be a diamond inside the stone,” Patricia chimed in, her cheeks still glossy.

  A smile tugged at Oscar’s leathery lips.

  “That’s very kind of you to say.”

  “We’re all here for you, my winged friend,” Ferdinand’s disembodied voice said.

  “You are very kind,” the dragon rumbled, visibly touched.

  Flynn could feel Oscar’s scales shift under his hand. Their red tint was slowly subsiding, replaced by their usual pearlescent blue.

  “It was brave of you to tell us your story,” Elli said with a gentle bow. “Your suffering and your story are unique to you, but know that all of us can feel your pain. Most members of this group experienced isolation and rejection in one way or the other. That is not to say your pain is not as relevant as it feels to you, but that you are not alone.”

  “That means a lot to me,” the dragon said in visible relief. “It felt good to talk about it.”

  Elli smiled and put down her pen.

  “Thank you for sharing, Oscar.”

  “Thank you for sharing.”