Breaking Free

                  Hmmmm, hmmmm, hmmm hmm hmmmmm hmmmm, hmmmm hmm.

                  A young woman hummed to herself as she sat high aloft on a small balcony in the middle of a large circular room lit by the flames of many hanging lanterns. The circular balcony looked over a room filled with straw, cradling dozens of dragon eggs. The young woman sat leaning against the central pillar, drawing in her sketchbook with scribbled notes of various ideas and topics scattered throughout the pages. She carried her sketchbook most everywhere she went, hoping if she had a place to collect her ideas, it would organize her life, and maybe one day she would act upon the ideas in her head. Although her overactive, creative mind could never decide on writing a story, drawing a picture, or working out lyrics to a song swirling in her mind.

                  The curse of a creative mind. Too many ideas to hop between to focus on one.

                  Her job was to watch over the eggs, log changes and anomalies, all why ensuring a safe and consistent environment for incubation by keeping the fires up to temperature and water levels filled. The job provided a lot of time for herself as she monitored the room. At the moment, she fully immersed herself in a sketch of the hatchery room where she worked. She loved these peaceful moments. The scattered firelight filled the room with both visual and physical warmth. Water dripping over hot rocks created a humid spa-like ambience that permeated the room. The cozy atmosphere allowed the mind to meditate, think, and explore the depths of creativity.

                  The young woman often turned to her creative ideas, looking for comfort. She moved to Hallador, hoping to show the world her talents. Yet the city presented far greater challenges than she ever expected. She felt safer, more comfortable in her shell, keeping her ideas to herself.

                  The young woman’s crystal blue eyes darted from her sketchbook, looking over the room as she sketched intently. She wanted to document how it felt to work in the hatchery, a memory to preserve for ages to come. Pulling back her crimson hair, she tucked several wavy strands behind her ear, looking over at a large ticking clock.

                  Looking back at her drawing, she added a few more cross hatch marks, then closed her sketchbook, wrapping the book and several of her drawing and writing utensils in a leather carrying case. She tucked her leather encased sketchbook alongside a leather satchel, covering them with a loose sweater. She reached over and picked up a clipboard and stood up, leaning against the railing of the balcony looking over the eggs.

                  With pencil in hand, she tapped it like a wand in the air as she individually checked over every egg, looking for any change in the status of each egg. Others working in the hatchery often gave a quick look over, but this young woman liked to check each egg individually. She like the idea of making sure each egg received the individual attention it needed. Slowly rotating around the circular balcony pillar, she looked over every egg, logging any notes of cracks or movement. She noticed one egg jostle slightly. After completely circling around the room, she made a few last annotations on her clipboard, then set it down in its designated slot, picking up a secondary clipboard and her sweater.

                  The young woman descended the ladder from her balcony perch and walked along a pathway built through the room filled with straw and eggs. She first checked the coals heating the rocks, as well as the water levels of the container dripping water into steam. All supplies looked optimal, and functioning well. She marked her observations on the clipboard, then followed the path circling the outside of the hatchery room as she looked over the eggs from a different point of view.

                  The path followed the circular room to the other side, where the young woman checked another batch of smoldering coals, heated rocks and water levels. It all checked out. She continued along the circular path surrounding the eggs. She smiled as she approached a small dragon fluffing up a batch of straw in an empty section of the room.

                  “Getting ready for a new addition?” the young woman asked with a smile.

                  “Oh, Hi Beatrice! Yep, we have a few new arrivals coming soon.” The little dragon nodded a hello as he continued to fluff up the straw. “Time for the rounds?”

                  “Yep, the usual.”

                  The small dragon nodded and waved as Beatrice motioned a passing goodbye. Beatrice followed the path around the circular room, making her observations of all the eggs, eventually arriving at the other side of the room. She opened a thick insulated door and exited the room, entering a staircase.

                  The cooler, less humid air always shocked the skin when leaving the room. Although it wasn’t time for her sweater just yet as she descended the stairs, only to open another insulated doorway, entering another hatchery room. As she entered, another young woman, dark skin, brown eyes and wild curls, waved to Beatrice and approached her. Beatrice waved back.

                  “Hi Nadia.”

                  “Hey Bea, everything is looking as it should.” Nadia handed Beatrice a sheet of paper. “It’s been a rather quiet, uneventful night so far.”

                  “Yeah, same here.” Beatrice and her co-work looked over the eggs. “I think sometimes we need moments without a lot going on, you know.”

                  “Yes, definitely,” Nadia said. “But…. Sometimes It’s okay to let loose once in a while.” Nadia gave Beatrice a look, expecting an answer.

                  “Yes, I know.”

                  “C’mon, just come with us. We have so much fun. I know you’d enjoy yourself. Plus, it’s an open vocals night, and I know you have been hiding that amazing singing voice. Please! You’ll love it!”

                  “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot going on.”

                  Nadia gave her a look with a raise eyebrow.

                  “What?! I do! I have a lot to get done.”

                  Nadia held her expression.

                  “Okay, okay, I’ll see. Maybe I can stop by.”

                  “YES!” Nadia gave a slight pump of the fist, celebrating the victorious influence of her raised eyebrow look. Nadia ripped off a piece of paper, handing it to Beatrice. “Here. We are meeting at this pub. I need to stop by my home after work, but I’ll be there. So, meet us there. It’ll be fun.”

                  Beatrice looked at it, then clipped it to her clipboard.

                  Nadia pointed to the clipboard. “You’re not just saying this to make me happy. You’re really going to be there? Right?” Nadia gave her friend a look as she returned to her post.

                  “Yes, I promise. This time, I’ll be there.” Beatrice nodded with a smile.

                  Nadia gave two thumbs up. “Take care of those eggs!”

                  “You know it!” Beatrice laughed as she flipped the pages of her clipboard, logging more information. She glanced around the room to give it her own visual check, nodded and waved to two other dragons working the floor, then turned to leave.

                  Beatrice thought about her friend’s comment about “hiding that amazing singing voice”. It was an innocent comment, although quite close to reality, even if Nadia didn’t know it. Her coworkers always caught her humming to herself, yet they’ve never heard her sing. Beatrice would never admit it, but she knew she was born with a beautiful voice. Back home in her small village, they all loved hearing her sing. They told her she would be famous. Their encouragement became the reason she left home for the great city of Hallador. For her, she felt her talents would inevitably propel her to fame and acceptance by the people of Hallador. But every journey comes with obstacles and risks.

                  She came to Hallador, relying on a young man she knew from back home. She felt safe with him. He took care of her. He sheltered her in a gigantic city that she did not know how to navigate. Beatrice struggled to find any comfort in the city of Hallador. Life moved a lot faster than her hometown. Back home, her creative talents stood out amongst all the other villagers. In Hallador, she blended in with the other talented creatives. Hallador was the hub of the greatest creatives in the kingdom. Even the most talented individuals felt average when thrown into the melting pot of extreme creative abilities in Hallador.

                  Yet, she possessed more than a singular talent for music and vocals. Her talents spanned writing and drawing as well. A skill that she thought would surely set her apart from the other singular talented individuals. Most other creatives could not compete with her breadth of talent, and she knew it. Although Hallador never seemed to let her shine.

                  The lack of recognition pushed her to create more and more, yet her mind did not allow focus on one talent. Jumping from one creative endeavor to another, she only created mediocre results, ignored by those that support the arts in Hallador. No one recognized the breadth of genius she held inside her mind. In her hometown, her raw talent outshined her lack of focus. But in Hallador, her lack of focus surfaced as mediocrity, and the city moved too fast to accept good intentions. The creative world of Hallador expected top tier talent in any industry, and coming from a small village, Beatrice lacked the proper training to compete at the same level.

                  She allowed the doubt to take over, convincing herself that her talents were delusional. She thought she could find a sense of safety in the young man she lived with. But she made the mistake of placing her value and emotional welfare in the control of a young man she thought she knew. 

                  Beatrice trusted him. She didn’t even recognize the young man’s gradual shift from support to criticism. At first, she appreciated his advice. She felt it kept her grounded. With so many ideas and desires flowing in and out of her head, it helped to have someone connecting her to reality. She felt she needed someone like that in her life.

                  The young man, far less talented, somehow found more attention and praise in the big city. He grew afraid of losing the comfort of validation. If Hallador ever discovered Beatrice’s abilities, it would shuffle the young man to the wayside of attention and validation. This young man let his selfishness take control. He criticized everything Beatrice did. He downplayed any of her dreams, any hope of accomplishment, or efforts she made from fear that it would make him look bad.

                  Beatrice believed his lies.

                  She pulled away, spending less time with friends seeking only shelter and safety from the young man. She abandoned her hopes of being recognized for her talents, never feeling good enough or worthy enough to try. Beatrice got a job at the hatchery, figuring a daily job was all that destiny had in store for her. As long as she did her job, kept her mouth shut, and kept people happy, she felt valid. Although buried deep in her mind, she hoped that somehow, someone would simply discover her talents and make all the hurt go away. Beatrice dreamed of the fairytale ending.

                  While working at the hatchery, she made new friends despite being socially shut down. Friends with experience, friends that cared about her as a person, and some that could recognize her current emotional rut. She learned to recognize the emotional abuse, and through encouragement from her new friends and courage from deep within, she navigated her way out of the destructive relationship. For the past year, she focused on her emotional healing. She still felt the talent in her soul burn, yearning to express itself, but felt too afraid to get hurt again.
Beatrice thought about her friend’s invitation. “Not yet,” she thought. She didn’t want to feel the pressure of being herself around others for fear of the same rejection. Beatrice unclipped the piece of paper with the address and moved it to the bottom of the clipboard, out of sight.

                  Beatrice continued her rounds. Visiting various floors and rooms. She visited each of the incubation rooms, checking with the stewards of each room, ensuring everything functioned how it should, logging any changes and updates to each hatchery room.

                  Beatrice then entered a much smaller insulated room with a variety of different shaped eggs, and a larger dragon lying down in the straw with the eggs. The dragon gently rocked an egg with his wing thumb.

                  “Well, if it isn’t our lovely Beatrice,” the dragon said without looking up.

                  “I’m always impressed by how you know.”

                  “Your smell.”

                  “My smell? is that a compliment? Or should I be concerned about my personal hygiene?”

                  “For you Beatrice, it’s a compliment. You smell like calm, peace, and hope.”

                  “Well…thank you,” Beatrice said, a little taken aback by the flattery, but soaking in one of the most thoughtful compliments she had ever received. “I did not know those things had a smell.”

                  “You learn to see the world differently when you don’t have eyesight to distract the mind.”

                  Beatrice smiled as she stared at the magnificent blind dragon. “You really are something impressive”.

                  “I try to be the best me I can.”

                  Beatrice smiled. She looked around the room. “How are the eggs doing today? Any new progress.”

                  “Unfortunately, no new movement in the ones approaching their decision dates. I wish I could offer a more positive outcome for those eggs. Although I’ve detected new movement from this one. For the longest while, I thought this little guy would be a no-show, but I’m feeling some life in there. I’m keeping this one close just to make sure.”

                  Beatrice looked down at the small egg caressed by the dragon’s claw. “That’s good, that’s really good. What about the twins?” Beatrice looked over at a conjoined egg.

                  “Oh, I don’t think we need to worry about them anymore.” The dragon said with a slight chuckle. “They seem to be full of energy. I believe they are separate on the inside. We’ll know for sure when they hatch. I would suspect they will hatch any day now. Their activity has been increasing daily.”

                  “Good to know.” Beatrice wrote a few additional notes on her clipboard.

                  “Anna left her report on the desk. She needed to leave a little early. I told her I have it covered for the night.” 

                  Beatrice walked over and collected the paper and added it to her clipboard. “Great, thanks! I’ll stop by before I leave tonight to see if you need any extra help.”

                  “I think it’ll be a quiet night.”

                  “Either way, I’ll at least say goodbye.” Beatrice looked over at the magnificent blind dragon. “It’s always good to talk to you. Thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

                  “Anything for you Beatrice. You’re a star and you know it!”

                  Beatrice smiled. “Thanks. I’ll see you later, okay?”

                  “I’ll be here.”

                  Beatrice made her way through the insulated door, slipping on her sweater. The cooler dryer air wrapped around her in a slight chill, quickly dispersed by her sweater. Traversing several stairs, she approached a door, then stopped. She slowly turned the handle and pulled the door open. With a few quiet steps, she entered the room. Several dragons and humans were cleaning up from the day, preparing for the day to come. One larger dragon sat in a pile of furs and pillows with her long, elegant wings partially stretched out. She lifted her head to greet Beatrice with a nod.

                  Beatrice tip toed up to the dragon with a huge smile. “How are they doing?” she said in a light whisper.

                  The dragon smiled, lifting her wing to reveal a cluster of recently hatched baby dragons. “All tuckered out from another day outside their shell.” 

                  Beatrice gasped with excitement, “Ooooohhh, they are so cute!” she said in a whisper. “I just want to pick them all up!”

                  “Ha-ha, where were you earlier when they all wanted to eat at the same time?”

                  “Oh, I’ll change shifts next time. I don’t mind being mauled by this cuteness.”

                  “You are welcome here anytime!”

                  Beatrice beamed ear to ear as she gently pet one of the sleeping infant dragons.

                  “Bengt has our report. You can get it from him,” the dragon said.

                  “Thanks. I suppose as much as I want to curl up under your wing with the rest of them, I should probably finish my job.”

                  The dragon stretched her wing out again, covering the sleeping infants. The dragon and Beatrice exchanged additional light pleasantries, then Beatrice collected the reports and returned to her rounds.

                  Stopping through several more rooms, she visited with the other dragon nursery leaders, checking on their progress and addressing any issues or requests. As the dragons grew older, they were organized by species to help determine the best families to be raised in. The young dragons go through early preschool training to be taught the basics of dragon culture and assessed for their natural abilities and talents. Beatrice loved observing the growth of the infant dragons as she visited each one of the nursery rooms from newborns to younglings. Each room grew more and more entertaining as the age of the young dragons progressed with each new nursery. Nearly done with her nightly check ins, she approached one last door, far louder than any previous room. Beatrice took a deep breath, then entered the room.

                  BEATRICE! BEATRICE, BEA! B! BEATRICE! BEA! BEATRICE! BEATRICE, BEA! B! BEATRICE! BEA!

                  Beatrice was met with a barrage of young dragons calling out her name, galloping and hopping over each other to greet her, all vying for her attention, telling her about their day.

                  “Hey, look what I learned!” a little dragon flapped her wings enough to lift her off the ground. “I’m going to be a good flyer, teacher says I should be a good flyer. I haven’t even gone to training yet!” the enthusiastic dragon bobbled up and down with each flap of her wings.

                  “That’s amazing!” Beatrice said. “That deserves a high five for sure!” Beatrice held her hand up high. The little dragon’s eyes widened with excitement. Sticking her tongue out, she focused, lifted a hand, then the other, to get the right angle for the high five. She swooped with her wings, then swung for the high five, but forgot to keep flapping, and tumbled to the ground.

                  “I meant to do that!”

                  Beatrice laughed as the young dragon got swept away by the constant talking and calls for attention from the young ones.

                  “Shouldn’t you all be going to sleep right now?” Beatrice asked.

                  The dragons all chattered about being too old to go to sleep, and too many fun things to do. Beatrice laughed at their non-stop energy.

                  “Teacher says, we are, now, now that we are older, we can…” YAAAAWWWWN “… stay up as late as we want!” other little dragons cheered.

                  “No, we said no such thing!” an older woman approached Beatrice with a smile, and a stack of papers. “I only said that to you, my little Gunter, because you’ll fall asleep before you know it.”

                  “But I’m… YAAAAAWWWNN… not… YAAAWWWWWNN… tired!”

                  “Sure you aren’t, sweetie.” The older woman turned to Beatrice with papers in hand.

                  “Been an eventful day?” Beatrice asked.

                  “Oh, where to start!” 

                  Beatrice chuckled.

                  “They’re so cute until they learn to be possessive about things. If only we could preserve that childlike innocence and acceptance.”

                  “And their energy,” Beatrice added.

                  “Ha-ha, yes, most definitely need some of that.” The older woman sighed. “They keep me young. Here are our reports for the day.”

                  Beatrice picked up the papers, looked them over, then clipped them to her board.

                  “How about you? How have you been?” The older woman asked.

                  “Oh, it’s been a quiet night. Just keeping all the eggs in line.”

                  “No, I mean, outside of all of this, how are you doing?” The older woman looked directly at Beatrice to get a read on her emotions.

                  Beatrice smiled and nodded. “It’s, it’s going well. I mean, I’m feeling a lot more positive these days, taking a day at a time.”

                  “That’s good, that’s good. No rush. You know who you are and what you need.”

                  Beatrice nodded with a smile.

                  The older woman continued, “Moments of peace are important, but don’t be afraid of the chaos. There is still joy in the chaos. Get the healing you need, but the difficulties of a messy life does not mean that the peace will disappear. You’ll just find it in different ways.”

                  Beatrice nodded with a smile.

                  The noise of two young dragons fighting drew the attention of the older woman. “Bero, honey, stop sitting on Matti. That’s not very nice.”

                  “But he took my snack!”

                  “You already ate your snack, honey. If you’re still hungry, you can have Gunter’s snack, he’s not eating his.” Gunter lay motionless in a deep sleep. The old woman turned her attention back to Beatrice. “It never ends.”

                  Beatrice smiled.

                  “You’ll be joining us for tea again?” The old woman asked.

                  “Yep, I wouldn’t miss it.”

                  “See you then. I’ve got quarreling dragons to attend to.” The older woman raised her eyebrows, sarcastically excited to deal with the energy of the younglings.

                  Beatrice chuckled. She waved goodbye, chatting to a few others as she made her way through the room and out the exit.

                  Climbing a series of stairs, she eventually returned to the upper floor of the hatchery.

                  “Beatrice! Just in time, we have a hatcher!” the little dragon called out.

                  “Which one?”

                  “C-17!”

                  Beatrice quickly stashed her sweater and leather satchel on a nearby desk, grabbing her clipboard. Carefully navigating the pathways created between the grids of eggs and straw, Beatrice and the small dragon arrived at the hatching egg.

                  A large dragon egg sat nestled within a thick straw bedding, cracked open with a large fissure running diagonally. The top of the egg bobbed up and down as the baby dragon nudged it with its nose and temporary beak.

                  “C’mon, c’mon little guy, you can do it.” Beatrice looked on with excited anticipation. Watching dragons hatch was one of the enjoyable highlights of working in the hatchery. It’s a rare and exciting experience to see life join the world for the first time.

                  The egg top bounced several more times. It still did not come loose.

                  “Keep going, little buddy, you’ve got this.”

                  The lid of the cracked egg bounced a few more times, but still did not come loose. Beatrice examined the egg. The initial fissure cracked the egg at an odd angle, placing the hinge of the crack higher on the egg, requiring more leverage from the baby dragon.

                  “You can do this little guy, keep lifting!” Beatrice’s voice shifted from excitement to one of concern.

                  The egg shell cracked, but the internal membrane sack remained sealed, keeping the dragon submerged in the albumen fluid inside the egg. Soon, the dragon’s instincts would kick into gear. Now, with the cracked shell and new light streaming in, the dragon would attempt to breathe. It needed to pierce the internal egg sack.

                  Beatrice turned to her dragon friend. “Knute, start the timer” The small dragon nodded, and with a leap he flew up to an hourglass filled with sand, and turned it over. Then, with a quick leap and glide, Knute joined Beatrice by her side. Beatrice sat down, jotting some notes on her clipboard.

                  “C’mon, c’mon little guy, you can do this!”

                  The peaceful calm of the hatchery is not without intense moments. All workers are carefully trained not to help any hatching dragons. The only exception is when absolute lifesaving actions are required. When outside influences help dragons hatch, it alters their mindset, a potentially destructive shift in mentality that they grow up with. When baby dragons receive help to break free from their shells, they learn to rely on others to solve their problems for the rest of their lives. They don’t even realize why they feel that way. Through years and years of study, they’ve learned to avoid helping dragons come out of their shells. Only in extreme life saving events.

                  The timer kept track of the first stage.

                  The top of the egg bounced a few more times. The dragon kept extending his head forward into the elastic egg sack and stretching it, although lacking the proper angle to get his hatching beak positioned to cut the egg sack open. 

                  “C’mon little one, I believe in you. Just a twist of your head, and you’ve got it.” Beatrice glanced up at the sand flowing through the narrow glass opening of the timer. The little dragon was so close. She wanted to tell the baby dragon how to get out.

                  The sand continued to drop.

                  “Get the kit, just in case.” Beatrice told Knute. He nodded and took to flight.

                  Then it hit her.

                  Hmmmmm, mmmmm, hmmmmm. Hmmmm, mmmm, mmmm.

                  Beatrice hummed one of her songs. She leaned in close to the egg, humming a song, her voice fluctuating up and down, doing her best to mimic some vocals common to dragons.

                  Hmmmmm, mmmmm, hmmmmm. Hmmmm, mmmm, mmmm.

                  Beatrice glanced at the quickly dropping sand. She continued to hum. Knute landed by her side, prepping the kit, should the hatching dragon need to be rescued from drowning.

                  The baby dragon turned his head. It was working! Beatrice continued humming her vocals. The baby dragon turned his head in her direction. Beatrice glanced at the nearly empty timer. She elevated her hums into singing vocals. Knute looked at Beatrice, bewildered by her talented, hidden voice.

                  Slip — pop!

                  The egg sack burst open. Fluid drained, and the dragon breathed! Knute and Beatrice let out a sigh of relief.

                  “We’re not out of the woods yet,” Beatrice said.

                  The baby dragon pushed against the shell again, more cracks broke into the shell, although the baby dragon still struggled. Risk of exhaustion presented potential challenges. The baby dragon needed to keep its head out of the remaining egg fluid. If exhausted, he could settle back into the albumen, unable to breathe. The little dragon still struggled to crack the egg further. It continued to poke its head out, trying to chip away with his egg beak, but couldn’t get the right leverage.

                  “You can do this little guy.” Beatrice continued to hum and sing vocal notes. The dragon would try to extend its wings, then rest. Beatrice kept singing. It seemed to add some motivation to the little dragon. She wanted to pull the top of the shell off, but knew she couldn’t. It would be so simple. She wanted to question her years of training, wondering if it would really be that bad. She kept in line with the rules of the hatchery, shifting her sitting position to get a better visual of the little dragon in his shell.

                  Suddenly, a wing thumb popped out.

                  “There you go, you’ve almost got it!”

                  The infant dragon tried lifting its wings up and out of the opening to give it some leverage.

                  “Well, look at those long wings!” Beatrice said, motioning to Knute. “This dragon will be a great flyer.” Beatrice wrote a few notes on her clipboard. “It’s those long wings. They’ve got you all cramped in there.” Beatrice spoke to the egg as she wrote on her clipboard.

                  Beatrice stood up, humming and singing her unique notes. The baby dragon would twist and turn, following the sound of her voice. Knute cleared out some of the straw, giving the hatching egg freedom from any obstruction.

                  “Just a bit more.” Beatrice continued to sing, with a few slow steps. The eggshell popped up with a new crack. “Just a bit more.” The baby dragon pushed and twisted, following Beatrice’s voice. When suddenly plop. The lid of the egg popped off, flipping onto the straw covered floor.

                  “You did it!”

                  “Way to go, little guy!”

                  The infant dragon snorted with a huff, clearing his lungs from some remaining liquid. The baby dragon stretched his neck out, followed by a lifting wing reaching outside the egg, followed by the other wing.

                  “You have large wings, a flyer for sure!” Beatrice nodded to Knute. He nodded back.

                  The baby dragon quickly twisted around to Beatrice’s voice, calling out his own unique chirps and vocals. Beatrice smiled, kneeling down closer to the dragon, humming back. The baby dragon hummed its own vocal notes. The little dragon continued pushing and clawing against the egg, rapidly breaking down his shell. Knute flew off to collect a few blankets and prepare the baby dragon for transportation.

                  Beatrice smiled, fascinated by the event. She lifted her clipboard, pulling out a form from the bottom of the cluster, sending a small torn piece of paper floating to the ground. Picking up the paper, she recognized the address to the local pub her friends were meeting at. She looked at the address, then at the baby dragon.

                  The baby dragon, free from his shell, nuzzled up to Beatrice, making purring noises and vocal chirps. Beatrice would return with humming and vocal notes. Beatrice wiped away some of the residual egg fluid still on the baby dragon’s face.

                  “Okay, okay, I get it, you win,” Beatrice said to herself while talking to the baby dragon. Cupping his infant head in her hand, she looked into his eyes. “I could only do so much to help you, encourage you, but in the end, you had to break free from your shell all on your own, didn’t you?”

                  Beatrice sighed a deep breath, looking at the address again.

                  “I guess it’s time for me to break mine.”