No! Don’t Eat the Guests!

An illustrated short story about a man and his dragon

I don’t require much sleep. It was genetically engineered into my species to make us better guardians. We could remain awake and alert for danger, while those we guarded slept.

There is little to guard against in this prosperous community where my humans are well-liked. So, I am dictating my story at night, while the rest of the household slumbers.

It is traditional to begin stories such as this with the author’s birth. I think it is more useful to begin with the birth of my species, some sixty years before my hatching.

It all started with a brilliant and imaginative genetic engineer named Jacob Schechter. He’d grown up with stories of dragons and saw genetic engineering as a way to bring them back.

Because he was brilliant, he understood that a full-sized dragon, with no enemy to fight, would quickly be perceived as a threat by people. And while one dragon is more than a match for one person, people are rarely found in isolation. They also have advanced technology that restricts any encounter to long-range weaponry only, which is a dragon’s least effective attack.

He wasn’t about to recreate dragons, only to have them hunted back to extinction by a frightened population.

No, he set his sights on a much more manageable goal. The dragonet. Somewhere in size between a large cat and a small dog, we fit neatly into the “guardian pet” category. Since we can both run and fly, and have a distance attack, we are far more effective guardians. We were also designed to understand language, making it easier for the people we guarded to give us instructions.

This gives us a purpose, a way of being useful to the people. Since we are useful, we are treasured, not feared. But only because we understand them and do not talk back.

One of the early dragonets, from the first clutch, began talking to humans. She was quickly taken from Jacob and spent the rest of her life locked in a laboratory where she could be studied. The scientists never figured out what “aberration” of her genetics allowed her to speak when other dragonets did not.

Our mothers whisper the lesson of silence to us during the long incubation of our eggs. By the time we are born, we know that the screech and the roar are the only sounds humans must ever hear us make.

Another effort to control us was by the contrived conditions required for our eggs to hatch. This combination of conditions — fluctuations of temperature and humidity outside of natural ranges — would never be found in the wild. As a result, there are people whose business is running dragonet hatcheries.

And that brings my story to my birth, in one of those hatcheries.

The rumor that you must be selected by a dragonet for it to obey you is true. This was another safety precaution engineered into our species by Jacob. It prevents a black market in stolen dragonets, since a dragonet’s most likely response to being kidnapped from their home is to burn down the building where they’re being kept.

On the day of our hatching, there were a dozen hopeful people gathered around four eggs. With three potential people for each dragonet, odds were good that each dragonet would find an owner. Those picky few who do not select owners are kept by the breeders to produce future clutches.

I was not the first dragonet hatched. Unlike my brothers, who attacked their shells with vigor, I pecked a small hole in the shell, then watched the proceedings. I also watched the humans who had gathered around.

My brothers tumbled to the warm sand in which our eggs were cradled, then stretched their wings out to dry. Most of the humans clustered around that end of the table. Humans held out pieces of meat on sticks, trying to lure the newly hatched dragonets to take an interest. My brothers snapped up the meat, but showed no interest in the people on the other ends of the sticks.

My attention was caught by a man standing apart from the crowd. He, too, held a stick with meat on it. But he held it casually at his side, while he watched the furor with a bemused smile.

He was an observer, just like me.

I stealthily cracked the far side of my shell and wiggled out the back. From the point of view of the crowd, the egg would have rocked, but remained intact. I swept my wings over the warm sand, drying them quickly although they became crusted with sand. I could preen them later.

I hopped to the edge of the table and looked up at the man.

“Caw!”

He looked down at me, his face transforming with delight. “Why, hello there. Would you like a treat?”

He held out his meat-on-a-stick to me. I approved of his technique. He was neither clutching it in fear, nor shoving it into my face. Instead, he appeared to consider us equals. He was temporarily in possession of something I would like, but he recognized that I was free to ignore it at my discretion.

I stepped forward and nibbled delicately at the meat. It was delicious! Suddenly ravenous, I bit off the end of his stick, swallowing the meat and stick together. A strange rumbling started in my belly, and I belched, wisps of smoke tickling my nostrils.

The man laughed. “Maybe next time eat it slower?”

Seeing a bonding happening, the representative of the hatchery swooped down with the appropriate paperwork. This caught the attention of the mass of humans at the other end of the table. With 25% of the dragonets now spoken for, they began shoving their sticks of meat at my brothers with single-minded determination.

Two people who were unable to reach past the others to get to the dragonets on the table drifted around to our end, and my remaining unhatched sibling.

I heard the egg cracking, and soon, my sister was revealed in her glistening glory. Unlike the unrelieved black scales of my brothers and me, her scales were a beautiful blue-black, lightening to rich purple around her eyes and nose.

A gasp went up from the assembled people. More of the humans rushed to our end of the table, hoping to attract the attention of the vibrantly colored dragonet. My sister ignored them all, patiently grooming herself. But I could see from the tilt of her head that she was tracking one of the two people who had been there when she hatched. My sister’s choice was already made, even though the humans were unaware of it.

Not all the humans, though. My human finished signing his adoption paperwork and nodded to me.

“She made a good choice,” he said, quietly enough that only I could hear him. “Someone who valued her before they saw her coloration.”

I bobbed my head, then sat down to clean the sand from my wings.

Soon enough, my remaining siblings had also chosen humans. The largest of us selected a rotund man who had skewered the biggest pieces of meat on his sticks. I was sure they would be very happy together, so long as my sibling didn’t need to regularly fly. At the rate he was going, he’d soon be unable to lift his body weight with his wings.

The surprise was my other brother. He chose a nondescript woman near the back of the cluster around him. I couldn’t imagine what he’d seen in her, until she began crooning to him. Her voice was a thing of magnificent beauty. My brother trilled back at her — wisely avoiding words, but still recognizably a melodic echo of her song.

The unfortunate humans who had not been chosen were ushered away, and our humans were given the opportunity to stroke our scales, feed us again, and select collars for us. My gluttonous brother was given a heavy golden chain matching the one his human wore around his own neck. My other brother received a delicate silver chain that was as fine as thread, with the tell-tale irregularities of being hand crafted.

My human considered the choices, and selected a plain, serviceable chain of stainless steel. “It should be light enough to keep out of your way.”

He held it out to me, and after a moment of consideration, I slipped my head through the open loop.

Then, my sister expressed her inner diva. Her human didn’t ponder the choices wisely enough, and simply grabbed the nearest collar, of studded black leather. When he held the collar out to her, she hissed at him, and snapped at the offending choice.

One of the hatchery employees rushed over. “Your dragonet clearly has very strong opinions. It might be best if you let her choose which collar she would prefer to wear.”

The man stepped back a bit shakily, and nodded to the employee to go ahead. He was obviously only now realizing what it meant to have a dragonet companion. We would protect our humans’ homes and property, because we could attack and kill any trespassers. We could also attack our humans if they displeased us.

Most dragonets would rather die than attack their human. After all, we chose them. If they later failed of being all we had hoped they would be, wasn’t that at least partially our fault for choosing poorly?

My sister, however, clearly felt that ground rules regarding proper deference to her needed to be established immediately. And, once she was wearing the enameled chain of rose gold that she’d chosen, she allowed her human to fawn over her beauty and elegance. She placed her foreleg on his hand and rubbed the side of her face against his arm. All was forgiven.

Carrying cases were then provided to the humans. The rotund human requested an extra-large case so my brother had “room to grow”. My human and the musical woman accepted standard cases. My sister refused the standard case, so her human had to purchase an upgraded case with a padded lining and screened windows that could be rolled up or down depending on the weather.

Rather than being upset at the extra expense — after all, the collar she’d selected had also required an additional charge — her human seemed to take pride in the fact that his dragonet would not settle for average. She had to have the best of everything.

I suppose he applied that logic to himself, and declared it proof that he was the best of the humans in the room.

My human just smiled at me, and said softly, “I’m glad you’re not such a handful. I’ve never had any kind of pet before, so you’ll have to pardon me while I’m learning.”

Once we left the hatchery, my human continued talking to me for the entire ride home. I learned that his name was Thomas, that he suffered from allergies and asthma, which is why he’d never had a pet, and that he was certain we would become the best of friends. He also mentioned that he had a wife, a woman named Katherine, whom he was certain would adore me as soon as she met me.

Something about the way he said it made me think he was not certain of that at all. And, in fact, that’s exactly how the situation played out.

He opened the door to their house and called out, “Kath, I’m home! And I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Rather than setting my carrier on the floor, his fingers tightened around the handle.

A woman came into the room, the broad smile on her face fading as she saw the carrier in his grip.

“What’s that?”

“A dragonet. You know today was hatching day.”

“I knew today was hatching day. I just didn’t think one would pick you.”

My neck ridges flared as I hissed warningly. How dare she insult Thomas that way!

She apparently realized how her words could be misinterpreted, and hurried over to place her palm against Thomas’s cheek. “Of course, you’d make a fantastic pick for any dragonet. Or human, for that matter. After all, I chose you. But you don’t put yourself forward. I’ve seen videos of dragonet choosing ceremonies. They look like one step shy of a riot.”

“That’s exactly what it was like,” he agreed. “I hung back, watching the other people going insane. And then this little beauty sneaked out the back of her egg and came right over to me. She didn’t want a part of the chaos any more than I did.”

I chirped, reminding him that I was still stuck in my carrier. Apologizing, he set it down and opened it so that I could climb out.

Katherine dutifully admired my handsomeness, although she expressed some reservations about the safety of her furniture and home décor. Thomas reassured her that dragonets were extremely intelligent, and that if she told me to stay away from something, I would.

She didn’t seem to believe him. For my part, I wasn’t certain I’d respect any boundaries she tried to establish, either. But if I destroyed her furnishings, that would upset Thomas. And I’d rather die than do that. So, I’d probably “be good”, much as it galled me to let Katherine think she’d gotten the upper hand over me.

He finally got to the big surprise he’d promised her. I still didn’t have a name, and he was going to let her help name me.

“A dragonet isn’t like a dog or cat,” he cautioned. “She has to agree to the name. Some of them can have very strong personal preferences.”

Katherine eyed me suspiciously. “Dynah? Demeter? Dahlia?”

I fluttered up to Thomas’s shoulder and turned my back on her.

“I don’t think she’s fond of the alliteration,” Thomas suggested, lifting a hand to hold me steady. “Maybe something simple and straightforward?”

“What about Alice?”

I whipped my head around. What was that name again?

“Alice?”

I bobbed my head and chirruped. I liked it. Maybe Katherine wouldn’t be so bad. She’d chosen a very good name for me. And after all, Thomas liked her.

“A pleasure to meet you, Alice,” Thomas said. I bumped his cheek with my head.

“Appropriate. We’ve certainly gone down the rabbit hole,” Katherine muttered.

I’ll spare you the details of my settling in with Thomas and Katherine, but it was far from easy.

Thomas wanted to treat me as a member of the family. He thought I should have my own bed and eat at the table with them. Katherine insisted that my food dishes be placed on the floor, and relented to giving me my own special cushion only to prevent me from trying to join them in their bed, or damaging her precious sofa.

When Thomas was present, she spoke to me like a valued guard pet. However, when he was gone, she ignored me completely. From the few things she muttered while in the kitchen, thinking I could not hear her, I gathered that the money to pay the hatchery had been money she’d wanted to spend on a kitchen remodel. She’d only allowed Thomas to give them a down payment because it had made him so happy, and she’d been certain no dragonet would possibly choose him.

Perhaps if I hadn’t been purchased at the cost of her dream kitchen, she might have been more favorably inclined toward me. After all, she sincerely appreciated how Thomas loved having a pet that he could cuddle with and fuss over. Decades of frustrated inability to have a pet with fur bubbled over into a limitless well of care and attention from him.

His fondness for me grew daily, and he would often surprise me with dragonet toys that he’d seen in the store and just knew I needed to have. He brushed my scales with a soft brush to remove any dust or dirt, and to remove loose scales when I was molting. He trimmed my nails to keep me from sticking to the carpets or furniture when I got excited. He interspersed chunks of meat in my diet with crunchy pellets designed to clean my teeth and freshen my breath. And he ensured that I had plenty of warm sand to roll around in.

Also, they were the first couple among all their friends to get a dragonet. Katherine enjoyed showing me off to visitors. I gathered that I was something of a status symbol for her. Thomas, of course, told everyone how fulfilling dragonet ownership was, and how anyone with allergies or asthma should get a dragonet to improve their lives. Those of their friends with the more prosaic cats and dogs smiled and nodded with his enthusiasm, on firm ground with this attitude.

Which brings me to today.

Thomas was away from the house when one of Katherine’s friends stopped by. I’m not a fan of this friend. Her voice is unpleasantly shrill, and usually she smells of spoiled grapes.

However, today, she had an enticing scent about her hands. Something spicy, with a hint of poultry.

She reached out to “pet” me — she’s one of those people who equates “petting” with bouncing her hand up and down on my head as if she’s playing with a ball. Normally, I pull my head back, out of her reach. Sometimes, if I’m feeling less than charitable, I’ll hiss at her. But today, I was overwhelmed with that delicious scent.

I opened my mouth and licked her fingers. In fairness, I might have steamed them a bit. But only a bit. And there was certainly no fire!

She screamed and snatched her hand away. “Vile creature! It tried to eat me!”

Katherine snatched a blanket off of the couch and threw it over me. “No! Don’t eat the guests!”

I roared and burnt a hole into the blanket. Sticking my head through the charred circle, I hissed at Katherine and her friend. I wasn’t going to eat her. I was only tasting her. Even an idiot human like Katherine should be able to see the difference between those two things.

Her friend screamed again and put her hand to her forehead before collapsing onto the nearest chair.

“Time out!” Katherine yelled, using a couch pillow to shoo me toward Thomas’s home office. As soon as I darted inside, trailing the burned blanket behind me, she slammed the door closed.

“You just wait until your father gets home,” she whispered vehemently through the closed door. “He’ll have to get rid of you after this.”

I didn’t believe it. Thomas would never get rid of me. He loved me. As much as I loved him.

He arrived home shortly after Katherine’s friend left. I suspected he’d timed his trip purposely to avoid the odious woman. But if he’d left me home to guard Katherine from her, he had misunderstood the situation. I was the one who needed to be guarded from them!

I could hear Katherine crying and remonstrating with him, although her words were sufficiently muffled that I couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. She was probably crying into his shirt. That strategy seemed to win any argument in which she deployed it. For the first time, I began to grow nervous. I curled into a tight ball beneath Thomas’s desk, reassured by the comforting and enclosing darkness.

“No way!” Thomas thundered. “If Alice misbehaved, I’m sure it was Mrs. Winterbyrne’s fault. I’ve been tempted to bite her a time or two myself.”

“I’m telling you, that dragonet was out of control! I had to throw a blanket over her to get her away from Cynthia, and she roared at me. Go in there and see what she did to the blanket! And just think about what she could have done to me.”

The door to the office opened, and Thomas poked his head inside. “Alice?”

I padded out to greet him, trailing the charred blanket. “Prp?”

He slipped inside and closed the door, then sat on the floor beside me. Gently stroking my head and neck, he lifted the blanket away.

“Katherine’s on a tear,” he warned me. “She’s very unhappy with you.”

I rubbed my face against his arm.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong. They just don’t understand you.” He sighed. “But maybe it would be best if you stayed in here tonight. That way, you won’t do anything else to set Katherine off.”

I rubbed against him with more force.

“I’m not getting rid of you, no matter what Katherine says. You chose me. That means something.”

I hissed, fluttering my wings with alarm. Katherine wanted him to get rid of me? To send me away, back to the hatchery, where I’d end my days popping out clutches of dragonets to enjoy the freedom I never would again? Could she do that?

“Sh, sh. It’s okay. I told you, I’m not doing it. She’s just going to have to learn to live with you.”

I crawled into his lap, still fluttering my wings with distress.

For the first time I could remember, this wasn’t enough for him. He scooped me up in his arms, my wings and tail dangling awkwardly, and pressed his cheek against my side.

“I love you, Alice. And I know you love me.”

Almost, I told him that yes, I did love him. Almost. The emotions coursing through me were almost enough to overcome my mother’s careful programming.

Instead, I wriggled until I could brush his head with my wing, and wrap my tail around his neck. Casting my memory back to the day of my hatching, I recalled the song my brother’s human had sung to him, and his response. I softly trilled it to Thomas.

His arms tightened around me. After a moment, he hummed the melody back at me.

We clung to each other, rumbling reassurances. Eventually, he set me down and slipped out of the office. I could hear his calm voice responding to Katherine’s shouting and crying.

After a while, their voices stopped. The light filtering under the office door went out, and the door to their bedroom opened and closed.

It’s been hours, and the house is silent. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Thomas has always given in to Katherine’s demands before. Will he be able to stand up to her now? Or will he give in and send me away?

I don’t know.

Which is why I’ve dictated my story. If he does send me away, I hope he will find the story on his computer and understand the truth. I love him, even if my conditioning prevents me from telling him so. More than selfish Katherine ever could. He is my human.

If he does send me away, and reads this story, he will come for me. I know he will. Regardless of what Katherine tells him.

So tonight, I will be a good dragonet. I will guard my humans while they sleep. I will not burn down the house, or damage any of Katherine’s precious furnishings. I will not even rip and tear the blanket, which is “no good anymore and only fit for the rag bin”.

I will be good, and I will do what my human tells me to do. Whatever he tells me to do.

And I will not eat Katherine. I will not even taste her.

This is the first fiction I’ve posted on Medium. Mostly, I write articles on self-improvement, writing, positivity, and living in the Caribbean. If you enjoyed this story and you’re not already a Medium member, please consider joining ($5/month for all you can read) with my referral link. That will encourage me to post more fiction.

For those of you interested in the AI-generated illustrations for this story, most of them were created using the free tool, StarryAI. I asked for them in the style of Artstation, Fantasy Art, Anna Dittmann, and Storybook Illustration.

I only had enough credits for 5 pictures, and two were unusable. The “dragon working on a computer” drawing featured four variations of women working on a computer. Although one had the woman using the computer to draw a dragon, so it at least tried to get a dragon in there.

I also tried using the algorithm they are sunsetting to draw the same phrase. At least there, I got something that looked dragonish and something computerish, but the overall image was choppy and unappealing. I can see why they’re sunsetting that algorithm.

I ended up creating the final article image using Dream by Wombo. That one allows you to create as many images as you want. You’re limited to creating ones in “trading card” format, however, and you have to create a lot of images to get ones that are usable. If you want a landscape format image, you have to be able to clip a section of the image. There were plenty of great images that just wouldn’t work, because they were vertically oriented. Here’s the image I almost used, clipped from a larger piece, before deciding that it might confuse people, who would expect the other illustrations to be in a similar style.