Clearsight

cr-r-rack!

"Darkstalker. It's happening."

I squeeze Darkstalker's talon in a vice grip, trying to breathe through the rush of visions. And to my surprise, he squeezes back.

I shake the raindrops off my wings. (Although it's kind of pointless because of course they only get replaced with more raindrops, about one second later. Ugh.)

Is she going to get hurt? What if she catches a cold? She's only a dragonet, I worry, as lightning flashes in the distance, a loud BOOM coming ten seconds later. (I'm counting. For some reason.)

C-CRACK!

I flinch, looking down worriedly at Shadowhunter's egg. "Can you get anything coming off her mind? Is she all right?"

"I can sense something," Darkstalker says after a second, wrinkling his brows.

"What do you mean?"

"It's like--"

CRACK!

A tiny black talon pokes out from the shell, groping around vaguely.

Darkstalker taps his tail anxiously against jagged stone. He has one (very large) wing wrapped around me, and the other spread out over the egg, like a makeshift umbrella. Which is sweet, but it doesn't really help shelter anyone from the rain.

My heart is pounding, butterfly wings in my chest. Is it normal to feel like having a panic attack, but also running around screaming in joy all at the same time when your dragonet is hatching?

CRACK! A large chunk of shell goes flying into my face. I swipe it away quickly, trying so hard to breathe, and stay present, but I can't, because--

What if I mess up?

What if I take the wrong path?

What if I can't do this?

What if...

CRACK!

The rest of the shell explodes with a couple of violent kicks, little bits of it landing on our faces.

I barely feel it.

I barely even breathe.

Where there used to be an egg is a little midnight black dragonet, blinking her eyes open blearily, like she's just woken up from a really long nap or something.

After I manage to catch my breath, I pull away from Darkstalker and step forward uncertainly.

"Hello," I coo, crouching down to her level so as not to scare her--she's so much smaller than I thought she would be. "Shadowhunter."

She gurgles a little as she tries to take a step toward me, letting out a short-winded wail as she crumples down onto the rocks, knocked over by the wind and her own current incompetence in this area.

I pick her up off the ground uncertainly, brushing little bits of grass and water and shell off her scales. And then I'm cradling her close to my chest, trying to ignore the uncomfortable pounding of my heart. I glance down at her, a smile curling across my snout. "I'm your mommy. And that's your daddy." I tilt my head at Darkstalker.

The futures start to flicker in my head, violent and joyful and uncertain. I force myself to ignore it. The little dragonet in front of me makes another little gurgling noise.

"And we love you. And we'll keep you safe," I whisper, leaning my snout closer to hers, feeling like such an idiot--I mean, she can't even understand me, right? "Always. I'll see the futures. And I'll always protect you, even from yourself. I'll give you the brightest path I can see before me. You'll be the happiest dragon in the world."

Shadowhunter blinks hesitantly.

I don't know how to explain this feeling, exactly—like a tidal wave wave of ferocity. The kind of determination that could propel me across the continent. The sort of love that feels like a housefire inside me. Scary and beautiful all at once. Is this what being a parent is supposed to feel like?

We're quiet for a long time.

"Want to hold her?" I ask--something I probably should have said to Darkstalker sooner.

He reaches for our daughter without a word and holds her even closer than I did. Her eyes flicker between our faces, as though trying to click pieces of a puzzle together.

"What's she thinking?" I move closer to Darkstalker, poking my head over his shoulder. Shadowhunter makes a high-pitched wail, batting at my snout with surprisingly sharp talons. I shoot her a teasingly reproachful look, only pulling away for a second.

"It's complicated," he murmurs, rocking her in his arms, ever-so-slightly. He holds her like he doesn't really know how to. (His talons are even shaking a little.)

And I know how sickeningly cliche it all is.

I know it's going to get worse. I know that the next couple of weeks are probably going to be some of the hardest in my life. I know it's nothing compared to how hard her life will be. I know that everything is going to change after tonight, for worse or for better. But right now, for her sake, I can't let myself care. I have to be here.

And honestly, I could use some sickeningly cliche in my life right now.

"She's scared," Darkstalker continues, looking down at Shadowhunter. She really does have those blue eyes I've seen in the futures a thousand times. They're the same colour as Whiteout's; like the core of a glacier. "And confused. But curious, too. She has this, like, really weird energy coming off her. I don't know how to explain it. Dragonet brains are weird."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know the words for it. Her mind just has a really unique feel to it."

"Is that because she's an animus?"

He shakes his head like he's barely listening. "I don't think so."

Shadowhunter squirms a little in his arms, scrunching up her face in effort. I laugh.

"I think she has your scales. She really looks like you," I observe, tickling the spot just under her jaw. Shadowhunter squeals, trying and failing to squirm away from Darkstalker.

"She does," Darkstalker agrees.

The wind howls against our backs. Every now and then, the wind manages to knock down a tree branch with a massive crack. Shadowhunter shivers, burrowing as close to Darkstalker as she can get.

"We should probably get her home," Darkstalker says unexpectedly. "She looks pretty cold."

The clouds growl ominously. Shadowhunter looks up at them with curiosity, a small smile curling across her little face. I brush a raindrop off her cheek and let her shake a little bit of eggshell I didn't catch off her talon. She gives it a look of triumph as it falls onto the ground.

Darkstalker passes her to me, helping to tuck her into the sling on my chest. She squirms, clearly not happy with being in restrained in any way. I try singing her a lullaby my parents used to sing to me, and it helps her calm down a little, but she still obviously isn't happy about this. (Honestly, I'm not either--I'd rather not be flying this weather, especially with a new-hatched dragonet, but it's better than trying to walk down a mountain in a storm with a new-hatched dragonet, isn't it?)

I spring against the ground, preparing to take off, taking the deepest breath I can before the wind catches my wings.

This is real.

I'm a mom now.