A Little Dragon's Self-Reflection

"Let’s go, Saya. I’ll take you home." Telorine held Saya’s hand, gently guiding her along the path. She was still sniffling, her tears barely dried from the harsh exchange at lunchtime.

Hidden just behind the cottage fence, Salix watched their small figures gradually disappear along the winding path. She let out a long, tired sigh.

"Was I wrong to bring Saya to school? I thought…" She didn’t finish, the words trailing off as if she didn’t have the strength to say them aloud.

“You weren’t wrong, just a bit naive”, a voice rang from behind. 

“EEEEEKK!!” Salix nearly jumped out of her skin before turning around to see Suzhen standing there. 

“Suzhen! Don’t sneak up on me like that! How long have you been here? Oh… you must be here to pick up Saya. She just went down the road. You could still catch up to her—”

“I know. I saw her with that boy,” Suzhen replied calmly.

“Oh… so you’re here to…”

“I was here the whole morning.”

Suzhen had arrived at the cottage just as Saya was introducing herself, quietly observing from behind a tree. She hadn’t wanted to interfere but felt compelled to see how things went for Saya.

It went exactly as she’d expected.

Ever since she’d decided to stay in the village, Suzhen had sensed a layer of unease beneath the villagers’ polite facades. When she informed the village chief she’d be around for a while, he had barely concealed his disappointment. In the market, vendors who had been chatting cheerfully to other customers would turn stone-faced at her approach, barely offering more than curt responses. Though they likely thought she couldn’t hear, her senses had easily picked up whispers: “Can’t they just leave?” “Those scales give my wife the chills,” “She’s really overstaying her welcome.”

It was clear the villagers saw her presence, at best, as a necessary evil. And while they acknowledged she’d saved their fighters from a brutal end, their gratitude didn’t extend to wanting an outsider lingering in their lives.

Suzhen knew well enough that what was spoken in whispers around her would be amplified behind closed doors, trickling down from adults to children.

Suzhen also understood that, while adults often maintained a polite facade, children tended to be far less restrained, openly voicing what they thought—or rather, what they’d been hearing from their parents day and night. In truth, the elf children were merely reflecting the attitudes of the adults around them.

"When I heard you’d be staying with Saya, I was thrilled," Salix began, her voice soft but hopeful. "I thought… maybe it could be a chance to bring some change to the village."

Suzhen looked at her curiously. "Change?"

With a sigh, Salix settled herself on the grass, stretching her legs out and looking over the distant horizon. "Have you ever heard much about our history?"

"I suppose I haven’t."

Salix’s lips curled into a faint, wistful smile. "We are the children of Aria, you see. Elves who once dwelled in a place called Ariadonia. There, we lived alongside all manner of folk—dragons, dwarves, fairies, humans, beastfolk… all kinds of beings. We coexisted, learning from each other, growing in our diversity."

She hesitated, her gaze shifting downward. "But… about a century ago, for reasons even I don’t entirely understand, our great-grandparents left their homeland. They ventured east, then north, and eventually settled here, in the Northern Realms. This place is still blessed by the sister goddess’s presence, but in moving, we lost something precious—our sense of kinship with other races. Now, we live only among our own."

Salix’s voice grew even softer. "We’ve forgotten what it means to live in harmony with others, and we see outsiders as… foreign. Threatening, even. But that’s not what Aria wanted for us. We were meant to connect, not isolate."

"So… you’re hoping to use Saya to bridge that gap for the village. To make it a place that aligns with your goddess’s vision."

"‘Use’ is such a cold word, Suzhen! I’m not trying to manipulate anyone. But yes, I believe this would benefit us all—Saya, the village, everyone. I know Saya and you both would feel more at peace if everyone could get along."

"But you never thought about how much work it would take. You had good intentions, but it hasn’t quite worked out the way you imagined, has it?"

Salix’s shoulders slumped, and she stared down at the ground, defeated. "I suppose you’re right… I didn’t think it all through. I’m sorry."

Suzhen’s gaze drifted to the house atop the hill, “I’d better get back; they’ll be arriving home soon.”

Salix’s face brightened, a hint of hope in her eyes. “Do you think… maybe you could comfort Saya, encourage her to—”

Suzhen cut her off gently but firmly. “It’s up to Saya whether she wants to return to school or not.”

In truth, Suzhen had thought about this. Saya might benefit from friendships, sure, but Suzhen reminded herself she was just a caretaker, not a mother. Her duty was simple—keep Saya safe, make sure she didn’t go hungry. Her emotional well-being, though… wasn’t Suzhen’s concern.

And perhaps, Suzhen thought, that was for the best. There was no reason to let herself grow attached. One day, after all, she’d have to leave this place.

**

“Ms. Suzhen?” Telorine knocked on the door, waiting for it to open.

After a moment, Suzhen appeared. She had managed to return home before the two little kids were able to knock on the door.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Suzhen. I’m here to return Saya. Umm…” Telorine glanced toward Saya, who was standing just behind him, her eyes fixed on the floor, her face solemn. She walked past Telorine and Suzhen without a word, retreating into the house without even looking at them.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Suzhen,” Telorine said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Something happened at school… Saya got into an argument, and, well, it got a bit… out of hand.”

“I see,” Suzhen replied, keeping her voice neutral. “It’s alright. I’ll take care of it. And thank you for bringing her back.”

Telorine’s face brightened as he proudly puffed out his chest, lightly thumping a fist against it. “It’s my duty as Class Monitor and the eldest in class to look after everyone.”

“I see.” Suzhen gave a faint nod, and with a quiet, polite smile, she closed the door.

As Suzhen returned to the living room, she watched Saya slowly unpack her bag, setting her uneaten butter candy on the table. Saya then picked up her lunchbox and approached Suzhen.

Ms. Suzhen, I’m sorry… I didn’t eat the lunchbox after all. I wasn’t very hungry,” she murmured, her gaze downcast.

“I see. Well, let me know if you get hungry later. I can cook something for you.”

Saya hesitated, then a soft purr came from behind the sofa, and her attention drifted to Lion. “Um… I’ll go play with Lion,” she said, before retreating to scoop him up and head upstairs.

Suzhen’s gaze lingered on the staircase until Saya was out of sight. She walked to the kitchen, her attention drawn to the lunchbox in her hand, which felt unexpectedly light. Curious, she opened it to find it almost empty—all the food gone except for the bones of the peacobeak wings, picked clean to the bone.

"I thought she said she didn’t eat it," Suzhen murmured to herself. Still, she decided not to dwell on it, tossing the bones before setting the lunchbox in the sink. It seemed she wouldn’t need to prepare another one for tomorrow.

As night fell, the dinner table lay quiet, the food slowly losing its warmth. Suzhen glanced towards the staircase, her thoughts lingering on Saya’s absence. After a pause, she decided to check on her.

“Saya?” she called softly, pushing the door open just a crack. Inside, books were scattered haphazardly across the floor, and Saya sat in the middle of the chaos, leafing through them with intense concentration.

Lion, now a little more at home, lay sprawled on his back with his belly up, looking utterly at ease. Just a week ago, he’d been a timid furball that hardly left Saya’s side, but now he seemed to have claimed his place, lounging wherever he pleased.

“Ms. Suzhen, what am I?”

“What do you mean?” Suzhen was taken aback by Saya’s sudden question. She moved to sit beside her, glancing at the open book. It was a picture book about the various races that populated the land.

“I’m trying to find a picture that looks like me,” Saya murmured, slowly turning the pages. “But they all look different.” She paused on a page showing a vixen, her curious gaze lingering.

Suzhen’s breath caught momentarily. I wonder how they’re doing…

“They say the vixen can eventually grow a second tail, all the way to nine tails,” Saya said. “But I guess that’s not me. My ears don’t look the same.” She flipped to the next page.

Gently, Suzhen closed the book. “Saya, I can tell you what you are.”

“Really, you know?” Saya’s eyes brightened.

“You are a dragon, Saya,” Suzhen said quietly. “Your mother is a dragon. And those horns on your head—they’re proof of who you are.”

“A dragon?” Saya’s voice was soft as she tried to process the words. “Are dragons... good?”

Suzhen steadied herself, trying the best she could to keep her tone firm. “Yes, Saya, of course, dragons are good.”

There was a long, quiet pause. Saya seemed to be absorbing the revelation, and Suzhen found herself at a loss for anything else to say.

Finally, Saya looked up, a glimmer of resolve in her eyes. “Ms. Suzhen, will you make my lunch again tomorrow?”

“Come again?”

“I want to go to school. I want to make friends,” Saya replied, her small face set with determination.

Suzhen blinked in surprise. “But… I heard they weren’t kind to you.”

“Maybe if I can tell them what I am, they’ll understand. And maybe they’ll want to be friends,” Saya said, her voice filled with quiet hope.

“I see.” Suzhen gave a small nod. “I’ll prepare your lunch. But for now, let’s eat. Dinner’s getting cold.”

As she led Saya down the stairs, Suzhen wondered if she’d given the right answer—and if she’d perhaps inspired the little girl with more courage.