Chapter Text
Of all the memories Tim will recall, this is a memory that he remembers with detailed accuracy. Arguably, one of the few that truly stay with him. It's the night when the moon is full, and the night sky, for once, is clear of it's usual rolling clouds.
Something jerks Tim awake from his sleep.
It's not unusual for Tim to, once in a while, wake up in the middle of the night from his slumber. Sometimes it's the chill coming from the big windows that tower over from behind his bed, that even the thick blankets from his too large bed cannot protect him from. Sometimes it's the creeping emptiness of the large manor that snakes into Tim's bones and dreams that have him startled awake.
Rarely at times, is it a vivid nightmare of monsters that roam the streets of Gotham that have come skittering into Tim's room to snatch him away. Those have him up all night, cowering under the covers, knowing his parents are not here to comfort him.
This time, it is a sound that even in his dreams he hears, before he wakes to it.
Tim makes no sound as his eyes fly open. He stays perfectly still as he takes one quick look around his room from his bed, and notes that tonight, his windows are closed.
Another thump, something heavy against the wood floors. It's coming from outside.
Maybe it's the fact that tonight, Tim is feeling particularly curious. Or maybe it's because just the night before, he's seen Gotham's protectors race through the streets on their horses, the Dark Knight and his second in command, Robin, swords brandished as they bravely face against the beasts that have once again plagued the streets.
Usually, Tim stays under the covers until the sun comes out. Tonight, he quietly leaves the protection of his bed, and opens the door with careful ease.
The sounds echo through the left hallways, where it leads to the main hall. Tim's smart enough to know that you never confront an unknown without something to protect yourself with.
So he grabs the thickest book he has and marches down the halls with quiet feet.
The noises stop by the time he's made it to the corner of the end of the hall. He takes a deep breath, and tries to imagine himself as Robin (never the Dark Knight, he's way too small to be Gotham's greatest protector), cape and all, with his book as his sword, and laughing in the face of danger.
Tim lets out an imitation of a battle cry, and jumps out of his hiding spot, brandishing his book in front of him. Though he squeezes his eyes shut.
When nothing jumps out at him, his cry dies down, and he cracks one eye open, taking a peek.
The window that covers most of the ceiling above the main hall has a shattered hole, so large it looked like a small meteor had crashed. Tim follows the imaginary trail to where he assumes said "meteor" would've landed, and is greatly surprised when what lays there on the floor is a bright red of scales that illuminates against the glow of the moon, and yellow eyes staring back at him.
Tim's breath hitches, the book in his hand falls to the ground with a heavy thump.
Tim's never seen one before, usually cooped up in his house with a servant coming by his home once a week to drop off supplies that'll keep him well fed until the next week. But he has read books, and sometimes, he imagines himself encountering one and fighting them with blades, like brave knights do to earn their glory.
A dragon bleeds out on the floors of his home, and all he has is a book, and no sword.
Tim can't help but flinch when the dragon lets out a low growl, curling in on itself much more protectively as the dark spines covering it's head immediately flare up, much like an angered dog with it's hackles. It smears the blood on the floor and somewhere in the back of Tim's panicked mind, he thinks 'How am I going to clean that up?'
He finds his feet moving, slowly approaching the dragon, almost holding his breath as the idea of making even a single noise terrifies him. The dragon makes no move and doesn't break eye contact.
"Y-you're a dragon," Tim whispers, both in awe and in apprehension.
As Tim gets closer and closer, he realizes it's not as big as he imagines dragons are. He thinks of the dragons illustrated in the books and they are tall, scary, and have terrifyingly large teeth that snap at you. This dragon doesn't snap, doesn't curl it's neck and stare at Tim with hungry eyes. It stays still on the floor, eyes tracking Tim, but they are wide in anticipation, of fear that Tim finds himself relating to.
It doesn't look like it wants to eat Tim.
Tim crouches down a few feet away from the dragon, and it growls.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Tim finds himself saying. Slowly, he lifts two of his hands up, almost using them to shield his face.
The growling stops, though the dragon keeps staring at Tim.
Tim is close enough that he can see the wounds on the dragon's back. Open wounds that look like slash marks, most likely from swords. Something has lodged itself into its shoulder, and another in its unusually too big legs.
The scales on the dragon's back, shimmering with both moonlight and blood. Almost without thinking, his hand moves, reaching out towards the dragon and to where the blood is, hoping to wipe it away. Tim holds his breath, taking long to inhale and doesn’t miss how his fingers shake slightly. This close, he almost touches the dragon...
The knocking of the door jerks his hand away from the dragon as the dragon's head snaps towards the noise, coming from where the manor's main door is.
The dragon snarls, and it makes Tim jump a little, but when he realizes it's snarling at the incessant knocking, he allows himself to relax just a little, glancing back and forth at the dragon and the door. Tim didn’t think anyone would be coming to his home this late, unless his parents had decided to return early. Which was impossible, no matter how much Tim hoped.
When the knocking becomes much more aggressive, Tim scrambles to his feet and he quickly makes his way to the door, giving the dragon one last look before he turns the corner to where the door is.
He hears the sound of men arguing loudly from the other side of the door, surprising considering the door is pretty thick. He unlocks the many locks that secure the door as he had taught himself, leaves a few latches on, and cracks open the door by an inch, careful not to open the door any wider.
The men and women outside of his house are armored in both leather and furs, gear that Tim recalls seeing hunters walking around the town wear. In their hands, swords and crossbows that have flecks of blood on its tips that Tim can't help but stare, shoulders tensing.
"Greetings," a man grumbles out, wearing much more elaborate armor. A large symbol emboldens itself on a metal crest on his chest; A dragon speared by a sword and an arrow. "A little late for a child like you to be up, ain't it?"
Tim's mind supplies an answer. "I'm waiting for my mother."
They definitely aren't going to return tonight, or the next day. They'll be back long after spring is finished.
The man chuckles, either endeared or amused, and he attempts to peek inside the manor. "Sorry to disturb you so late into the night but, you wouldn't happen to have seen a dragon would you? Red, slightly bigger than me? Believe it's one of those Firesnapper dragons."
Tim remembers, when he was a smaller, seeing hordes of dragons fly over Gotham and then, the yelling of men and women on the streets racing to where the dragons are headed, armed with weapons and capturing devices. Sitting in one of the more secure rooms, with his Father and Mother in separate arm chairs, who had to delay their trip due to the sudden influx of dragons, his Father looks at him, and tells him this:
"Dragons are very much like beasts. Creatures that show no mercy to men, and must be killed. Never think that they are anything but mindless killers, out for blood."
Tim looks at the blood tipped weapons the hunters are holding, and then thinks of the dragon just in the next room, bleeding and staring at Tim with too wide eyes.
"I didn't see any dragons, sir."
The man sighs, and mutters under his breath, "Could've sworn we saw it coming here."
He gestures for the others to fan out, and gives Tim one last look. "Apologies," he says, "If you do encounter one, better get us quick. Then again, if you do see a dragon, you best pray it doesn't get to you first."
With that, the man leaves, and Tim holds back on shutting the door too quickly. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and sinks to the floor, ear still pressed against the door as he hears the hunters voices fade away as they get further away from his house.
When he no longer hears them, he scrambles back up and briskly returns to the main hall. The dragon, a Firesnapper dragon if those hunters did correctly identify it, is still laying on the floor as it tries to lick its wounds, spines no longer flared out with aggression but settled back, wings spread out. Tim awes at the way darker red scales fade in from the tips of it's wings. Bright milky pale scales scatter along the middle of the wing's flesh, and Tim is reminded of a bird's wing.
That night, when Tim stares at the red dragon, his Father's warnings pushed away from his mind, he makes a decision that will forever change his life.
He tries to remember where his Father had kept the emergency med kit, and hurries on over to retrieve it.
--
The Firesnapper Dragon
Also known as the Bloodred Birds, these dragons are often found in flocks, most of which are red, though they can come in different varying shades of red.
With a snout similar to beaks and a body structure that resembles a bird, along with wings that, as they grow, begin to resemble the patterns of bird wings, they are often mistaken from a distance to be birds.
Dragons in their adolescent stages have yet to develop tough scales like it's adult counterparts. Thus, it is advised that Firesnapper dragons are better culled in its early stages of growth before they become adults, where they form their flocks and become much more difficult to deal damage to.
When encountering the Firesnapper Dragon, be aware of it's sharp beak and talons, both on its legs and their wings, as they are sharp enough to peck out a human eye and tear through flesh with ease. The only way you can fight an adult Firesnapper dragon is by attacking it on the underside of its belly, where it is softest.
Firesnappers are classified as level 4 threats. Should you fight one, be sure to have no less than 5 experienced hunters with you.