A hatchling's prayer

A crimson claw stepped out of the dust.

Once Chaos saw who had emerged, he quietly stopped charging up his attack.

This was a result that even he had not expected.

Agatha had actually won.

Even fighting four against one, she had won.

Still, Agatha did not look to be in very good shape.

Scales all over her body had shattered during the fight. Her right claw was twisted, and the three longest of its five talons had snapped. A row of tooth marks marred her thick hind leg, clearly bites she had taken in the battle.

His gaze swept back and forth over Agatha.

She's badly hurt. She probably doesn't have much fight left in her.

So...

Should I hit her with a blast while I have the chance?

The pleasant thought had barely arisen before he abandoned it at the speed of light.

One thing was one thing, and another was another. Agatha might have stolen his eggshell, but she had also dealt with four troublemakers for him. Otherwise, who knew how much of that eggshell would have made it into his mouth?

In the worst case, the four hatchlings would probably have divided it all among themselves.

Forget it. I'll find a chance to steal some food from her later!

As for now...

Food first.

He looked away from Agatha, turned around, and opened his jaws to resume munching on the remaining eggshell.

The eggshell was crisp and tasty, with a flavor much like potato chips. It was delicious, sure, but...

He felt the dryness in his throat growing stronger.

Eating too much of it dried his throat out.

Now he rather wanted a drink of water.

But judging by how dry this cave was, there certainly was not any water here.

If he wanted water, he would probably have to climb out of the cave and search outside.

Agatha looked in confusion at the green hatchling, who had turned his back on her again to eat his eggshell.

The green hatchling had clearly shown hostility toward her just now, but for some reason, he had given up.

Still puzzled, she continued toward an empty patch of the cave.

Whatever the reason, it was good that this green hatchling had not picked a fight. She no longer had the strength to fight again.

She reached an empty spot and lay down.

Her injuries were trivial. Between the eggshell from earlier and the portions she had stolen from those four hatchlings...

Her belly was now full, and she could enter her first slumber.

If a hatchling entered their first slumber on a full stomach, their chances of awakening a useful ability increased.

That was what her draconic inheritance had told her. Whether it really worked, she honestly did not know.

Her heavy eyelids slowly closed.

[Crunch~]

He popped the last piece of eggshell into his mouth and crunched it to bits.

He forced it down despite the parched feeling in his throat.

Taking a moment to gauge his stomach, he reckoned he was about sixty percent full.

Should I enter my first slumber now, then?

The thought had barely surfaced when a line of crooked writing appeared in his vision.

It was draconic script, both familiar and unfamiliar.

Familiar because he could read it, unfamiliar because this was his first time seeing it.

[A hatchling should enter their first slumber on a full stomach. This may grant you a more useful ability during your first slumber, or several useful abilities. - A green dragon who prefers not to reveal their true name]

This time, the response from his inheritance had even included a signature.

Once he had read all the draconic writing in his vision, it began fading away on its own.

They would've been better off leaving out that signature.

If they'd signed it as any other color of dragon, I would've believed it.

But no, it had to be a green dragon.

As a green hatchling himself, how could he not know what green dragons were like? Born masters of deception, they delighted in using schemes to swindle sapient beings blinded by desire.

That was precisely why any inheritance written by a green dragon had to identify its author as a green dragon.

They were free to publish it, but whether to believe it was entirely up to the dragon reading it.

Deep down, he felt the author could not be trusted. But what if? What if it was true?

What if they really meant well?

Damn it, this stupid dilemma.

Chaos straightened up and plopped onto his haunches, raising a claw to scratch his big, round head in frustration.

As he agonized over it, his gaze happened to drift toward the dust ahead, which had now completely settled.

Amid the settling dust, four hatchlings were stuck headfirst in the dry earth with their bottoms in the air. The dust that had fallen over them obscured the original colors of their scales, leaving all four the same dusty yellow.

Oh, right. I almost forgot about these four.

Chromatic dragons fought among themselves, but under normal circumstances, they did not kill their own kind.

Agatha was clearly no exception.

Although she had indeed planted all four hatchlings in the ground, dragons' naturally tough bodies meant they would be fine. They had merely been knocked out for a short while.

With a dragon's recuperative powers, they would usually wake up in a few minutes.

So he had to do something.

He walked up to the four and eyed the big bottoms sticking up toward him.

Lifting a hind foot, he kicked one of those raised bottoms without the slightest hesitation.

So you four wanted to steal my eggshell, huh?

The hatchling he kicked promptly toppled onto the ground, no longer planted upside down in the earth. Her buried head came free as well.

The dust covering her scattered, revealing the original color of her scales.

[~]

He waved a claw to clear the yellow dust, then looked at the hatchling lying on the ground.

She was a blue one.

He glanced at the remaining three hatchlings, their bottoms still sticking up.

After some thought, he abandoned the idea of giving each bottom a kick.

He did not want to inhale another mouthful of dust.

That kick had felt great, but it had also made him breathe in a great lungful of dust.

He grabbed the tails of the three unconscious hatchlings, pulled them out one by one, and gathered them together.

Hatchlings all had long, slender tails.

So...

He gathered all four tails in his claws.

Weave, knot, twist, spin, jump...

One minute later.

The four hatchlings lay on the ground facing four different directions, their long tails firmly tangled together.

Chaos surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction.

With a tangle this complicated, even those cable-management experts and bondage buffs from my previous life would shake their heads.

He proudly planted both claws on his hips.

That's me for you. Another day of improving my rope-work skills.

Besides cheering himself up, doing this served another purpose.

More little hatchlings were bound to start emerging from their eggs soon.

Once these four woke up, they would definitely compete with him for busi... no, compete to look after their newly hatched little sisters or brothers.

That won't do.

Taking care of little sisters and brothers is obviously a job for a more mature dragon like me.

Leaving the four unconscious hatchlings alone, he padded past the dragon eggs, his gaze roaming as he searched for a target.

Soon, an egg caught his eye, one he liked at first sight.

It was a red dragon egg that looked just a tiny bit bigger than the others.

Among chromatic hatchlings, red dragons were unquestionably the top dogs.

Even so, Chaos chose this red dragon egg, because he trusted that instant connection.

As for being unable to beat the hatchling once it emerged, that was not going to happen. He had already hatched once himself. That weakness right after hatching was, without question, a hatchling's most vulnerable stage.

He walked up to the red dragon egg, which looked just a tiny bit bigger than the others, and lay down.

Lifting his head, he looked at the egg before him.

"You're a red dragon, the top dog among chromatic dragons. Forget saving face-show some spirit. Come on~ try to hatch before the others."

-----A hatchling's prayer-----