Lessons from the Dragons: A Fable

            Drakon the dragon and his mate, Ehecatl, had been waiting for what seemed like centuries for this day.  The dragons had names picked out for every green-and-gold egg that gleamed warmly out of the soft bed Ehecatl had created for her eggs.  Ehecatl and Drakon had both been tending to the eggs for months, waiting patiently for them to mature to be ready for hatching.  And now they were – warm, brightly glowing with energy, and some were even moving slightly as if quivering in anticipation themselves.  As the pair expected the eggs to hatch today, they were busy preparing for their new little dragons.  Warm towels and fresh baby mice were made ready for each of the nine egg-lings.  Soft beds were prepared for them as no doubt they would be tired from breaking out of their shells. 

            Crick, criiiick, crick.  Drakon and Ehecatl each caught their breath in their throats and their eyes burned into one another’s as they recognized the first sounds of one of their babies breaking free.  Silver smoke curled out of Drakon’s jaws as he grinned excitedly at his mate.  One of the eggs, the one they called Pachua, had a hairline fracture in its side and was wiggling around in some strange, hypnotic dance in its spot on the bed. Just as a small, grey claw emerged from the first egg, a second egg began to dance – and then a third and fourth almost simultaneously.  Soon, the nest was filling up with baby dragons, each as beautiful and alluring as the next.  Ehecatl was tossing her head with pride as her seventh baby, Tatsuya, broke free and immediately spread his purple wings wide – rushing at one of the pinkies that lie there ready for the hatchlings. 

Drakon was tending to Pachua and the second born Coaxoch as the eighth egg finally whirled, fell to its side, and a tiny orange tail poked through the bottom of the egg.  The baby was stuck in the egg, pushing its hindquarters into the base of the egg, unable to break it open any farther.  Ehecatl swooped upon the egg and helped the creature get free.  This baby they called Tanis, and she was an intriguing shade of red, with green and gold highlights.  The poor baby was shaking and frightened by his inability to break free of his shell, and Ehecatl quickly took him and placed a warm cloth over his back.  Drakon breathed deeply, satisfied that his baby was safe.

“The nine of you are so beautiful!” exclaimed Ehecatl as she nuzzled her babies.  It was then Drakon noticed the ninth egg still sat, unmoving in the nest.  Drakon sucked in a deep breath and went over to the silent egg.  Its surface was smooth, and seemed cool to the touch.  Ehecatl noticed Drakon and the unmoving egg, and she paced back and forth, breath puffing before her with worry like a train approaching on the horizon.  Drakon tenderly picked up the egg and rubbed its surface, and blew a shot of smoke near to the egg to warm it up slightly.  No response came from the egg.  It stared at the pair and they stared back, and the room grew silent as the hatchlings felt their mother’s mood change.  A soft rumble escaped from Ehecatl’s throat as she bent over the egg that would not hatch.  Large, silver tears leaked from her sapphire eyes as she mourned the loss of the ninth egg – the one they would have called Ladon.  The hatchlings gathered around as Drakon nuzzled Ehecatl in a gesture of comfort. 

“And that is your first lesson ever, my babies,” Ehecatl regarded her young, “Never count your dragon eggs before they are hatched.”  The new dragons looked up at their mother, their round eyes wet with feeling for their parent’s painful loss – for the loss of their sibling.  Before they settled in for the night as a family, Ehecatl and Drakon buried the un-hatched egg in a mossy spot near their cave, and marked it with a large stone.  Even today, one can go to the stone and meditate on the lessons mankind has learned from the dragons.