Page 147 of Pets in Space 10

Hazel

The wind bit a little harder at this altitude. Colder. Sharper. Or maybe it was just my nerves.

The glow of the signal fires came into view first, flickering steadily like eyes in the dark. There were more of them now – at least twice as many as when we’d left. That meant more dragons had arrived. More minds to reach. More hearts to convince.

Fallin circled the plateau once before descending, wings taut with tension. I could feel it in his body, the way his muscles clenched beneath my palms. He wasn’t scared, but he wasn’t at ease either.

We landed at the edge of the clearing, where the stone was cracked and veined with pale moss. Ruby greeted us with wild chirps and happy flaps of her wings. No one else stepped forward to greet us.

But they were watching. Waiting.

Shapes moved in the shadows – hulking bodies, wings tucked close, eyes glowing in the gloom.

I saw scars. Mismatched horns. Tails coiled like questions.

Some still bore their collars like broken shackles.

Others had shed them, their necks bare, proud.

Yet others were in their newly recovered forms, small among the huge dragons yet still hulking above me.

I approached the waiting tyvarin.

Fallin didn’t stop me, but he stayed close – close enough that I felt his breath against my shoulder, warm and steady.

One of the larger tyvarin – a broad-chested male with a burn down one flank – stepped forward. I remembered cleaning his wounds the day before.

“You left,” he said simply. His voice was deep, rough like a landslide.

“We had to meet someone,” I replied. “And bring back news.”

“What news?” someone else growled. I couldn’t see them clearly, but I felt the ripple of distrust in the air. Like a storm about to break.

Leaving without saying anything had been a mistake. I had been so selfish, asking Fallin to come with me. I’d needed some time away, but he could have stayed, looking after his flock – what did you call a group of dragons?

Fallin moved to stand beside me, his wings flaring just enough to catch the firelight.

“The game makers are gone,” he said clearly.

“Captured by the Intergalactic Authority. Those of you who remember their previous lives will know about them. They are the good guys. The station is no longer under the masters’ control. You are safe. We are safe.”

A ripple of movement passed through the crowd – a low murmur of disbelief. Smoke rose from the nostrils of one of the closest dragons.

“Their eyes still watch us,” another said, his voice a hiss. “Their drones still fly.”

“Remnants,” Fallin replied. “Like ash after a fire. But the flame is out. The drones are now under control of the people who took over the space station. They were looking for my mate – but they will disappear now that they have fulfilled their mission. We’re free – truly free now. And we have a choice.”

“You sound like them,” someone muttered. “Talking about freedom like it’s a gift. Like it’s not just another trap. They always promise something. They always lie.”

I stepped forward again. “It’s not a trap. We’ve seen the proof. There’s a ship above us – human women who survived, just like me. They’re alive. They’re safe. And they offered help. Real help. Transport. Resources. The choice to stay here or to leave.”

Silence.

Then the large tyvarin spoke again. “And what do you choose, Fallin of Clan Varrna?”

Fallin’s jaw tightened. “I choose to return to my world. I choose to see the sky I was born under – together with my mate. But I will not leave anyone behind who doesn’t want to go.

If you wish to stay, to make this your home, you will not be alone.

The IA will honour your safety. They’ve seen what we suffered. They understand.”

A beat passed.

Two beats.

Then the scarred tyvarin looked at the others. “If we’re truly free… then we decide together.”

One by one, they stepped forward – not towards us, but towards the fires. Gathering in circles. Talking. Not shouting. Not posturing. Just… talking.

And that, more than anything, felt like victory.

Fallin let out a slow breath beside me. “They’ll come around.”

“They already are,” I whispered. “Shall we grab some food while they’re talking? I’m starving.”

The tension didn’t vanish, but it softened. Fallin led me to one of the smaller fires where a few of the changed tyvarin were resting. Not asleep – no one seemed ready for that – but quiet, alert, as if waiting to see which way the wind would shift.

Someone had roasted meat on a spit, and though I didn’t want to think about what kind of creature it had been, the scent made my stomach growl.

I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. Fallin tore a strip off and handed it to me before taking a piece for himself.

We sat on a smooth rock, the warmth of the fire chasing away the mountain chill.

A female tyvarin approached us. She was tall and lithe, her scales a pale bronze that shimmered faintly in the firelight. Her wings were smaller than Fallin’s, but her stance was confident – relaxed but not passive. She had the calm energy of someone who remembered who she’d once been.

“I hoped you would return,” she said, her voice smoother than most of the others. “The others were close to dividing.”

Fallin inclined his head. “They still might.”

“I know.” She glanced at me, and to my surprise, she smiled. “You’re the female. The one he flies with.”

I smiled back. “Hazel.”

“Saavrra,” she replied. “I remember that name now. It’s mine.”

She sat across from us, folding her legs neatly under her.

“This place… it’s not much. But it could be.

For those who don’t remember where they came from – or don’t want to – it’s something.

Solid ground. A place to begin. I remember my past, but I do not remember it fondly.

I always wanted a new beginning. Now I am offered one. ”

Fallin nodded slowly. “You want to stay?”

“I think I do,” she said. “I think many will. Not because they’re afraid. But because they want to shape something with their own claws.”

I chewed my meat in silence for a moment. “And the others?”

“They’ll go with you. Back to the stars. To find their kin, their homeworlds. Maybe even fight. Some will find it hard to forget the creatures they were. Machines built for war. It is those we have to worry about.”

Saavrra stood again. “They’ll speak soon.”

She walked away, her tail trailing through the ash.

I turned to Fallin. “Do you think it’s enough? That they’ll be safe here?”

He looked into the flames. “It won’t be perfect. But if the IA holds to their promise, this planet can become a sanctuary.”

I rested my head against his shoulder. “And for the ones who come with us? How many are there from your planet?”

“I am not sure. Saavrra is, but she does not seem like she wants to return home. There are at least four others, but there may be more. Some have changed beyond recognition.”

Voices rose across the clearing. More dragons approached. A rough semi-circle was forming near the central fire. Now that they were illuminated by the flickering light, I was amazed at just how many dragons had arrived today. The group had almost doubled since this morning.

So many lives forever changed by the game makers. So many souls now desperate to reclaim their future.

One older female’s voice rang out clear: “We’ve spoken. Some of us will remain. To build. To breathe. To finally choose our own purpose.”

Another voice – one of the green-scaled males who’d shifted early – added: “The rest will go. Some with Fallin, some to other planets. To see the stars again. To find the worlds we lost.”

Fallin stood. I rose with him.

The decision had been made.

And for the first time since waking up on this alien planet, I felt something more than just survival.

I felt hope.