The Cathairs were nothing like her peaceful home town, far away. She came from Dawnhold, a trading outpost located just where the nightside started to get brighter - colored by a perpetual rainbow of dawn's first light.

Dawnflayme hated the festival, hated the Cathairs, and everything that had to do with dragons. She was one bitter young woman. All of her siblings had gone off to the Cathairs, and found dragons to match them. Every one of those met some horrid, gruesome fate that would not have happened if they'd just stayed home.

Dressed in neon green and black, she looked beautiful. Her skin gleamed cinnamin brown, betraying her ancestry as dayside, though she swore nightside was her home. Brightly painted wings adorned her back, but the beauty was only skin deep. Dawnflayme was mean, through and through.

Someone had the unfortunate luck to run into Dawnflayme, and she whirled to face them "Watch it!" she snarled, not caring that the man she faced was a Seeker for the Cathairs.

"I'll watch." he purred, seizing her by the wrist, and hauling her along behind him.

Dawnflayme's mind raced. Where was he taking her? What would he do to her? Suddenly he stopped. In front of them was the stage, where the judges were to choose the most beautiful wings of the festival. Dawnflayme growled, but the Seeker prodded her toward the stage. Seeing no other option, she stepped up and struck a defiant pose.

Needless to say, Dawnflayme did not win the little contest, and she angrily leapt down again after the winner had been announced. The Seeker beckoned her over.

"I'm sure you've heard by now, that all the eggs didn't hatch at the last hatching." he purred softly. "Because there weren't enough young people to imprint them."

Dawnflayme didn't like him enough to answer, but the fire in her eyes prompted him to continue.

"I'll take you to see them, for being such a good sport. You never know what will happen." he said, and stood up. "Follow me, if you dare."

Dawnflayme did dare. She marched after him, anger echoing in her footsteps. Who was he to think she was gutless?

Inside the abandoned dragon den, a dragoness watched over the leftover eggs. Dawnflayme thought they looked dead, and was quick to voice that opinion.

Someone laughed. "They're far from dead, I assure you." Dawnflayme couldn't see the speaker, but did not fear the voice. "Go ahead, touch them." the disembodied voice said again, and Dawnflayme snorted, strode forward as though she was the high and mighty ruler of Danach, and placed her hand on an egg - the third one. It was hard as fired clay, and smooth as marble. Something inside moved.

Dawnflayme stepped back. "See. They're not dead." the voice said again. "Stick around... something's about to happen..."

Dawnflayme took off her wings, and sat down on a conveniently present chair. After a few moments, the ego-doused girl dozed off.

* * *

Dawnflayme awoke suddenly, having slept the "night" through. The large egg she had touched was rocking with wild abandon. It shattered, revealing a large, muscular bronze hatchling. He strolled nonchalantly up to her, and looked her in the eye.

Flayme, he purred, You are mine, and I am yours. Forever and always; this is how it must be.

Flayme grinned ferally at the bronze dragon. "Indeed, Dagianth, Indeed."

Note: the dragon's name is not Da-Gianth, but Dagian-th (day / gee / ann / th). Dagian is an Old English word meaning "to dawn".

What next? Read about Dagianth's search for a mate here.

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Cathair Utopian