Chapter 19: Lord of the Pond

My wings felt heavy from the feast. My belly dragged a little as I glided low over the treetops, heading back to the place I now called home.

A high, moss-covered cliff with a shallow cave tucked into the side, shaded by thick vines. Below it? The pond.

My pond.

It was quiet as I landed beside the water's edge. The surface shimmered, reflecting the cloudy sky, broken only by the occasional ripple of fish beneath. I leaned down to drink, still hot from my hunt.

But then—

Something moved.

Fast.

Sharp pain bit into my neck—teeth, long and needle-like. Something leapt from the water, latching onto me.

I roared, thrashing backward, blood trickling down my scaled throat. The thing—some kind of aquatic predator, long and eel-like with small legs and a mouth full of daggers—clung to me, trying to drag me toward the water.

I didn't hesitate.

Flame burst from my throat.

The fire hit the water like a storm.

It didn't just stop at the surface.

The heat sank deep, boiling the pond in seconds. Steam exploded into the air. Fish floated to the top belly-up, their scales peeling. The thing on my neck let go, shrieking as it burned, and I stomped it into the blackened mud.

I stood there, panting, as the steam thickened around me like a fog.

My pond… was dead.

Every fish. Every insect. Cooked.

I looked around, chest still rising with rage. But slowly, a thought pushed its way through the fury.

This is mine.

I could fix it.

Make it better.

Not just a place to drink or swim. A place to grow food. To control.

To own.

So I took off again, wings slicing the thick air, soaring toward the smaller streams I'd flown past before. I found a shallow, clear pond tucked between rocks, brimming with tiny darting fish. Easy to catch.

One by one, I snatched them from the water—gentle enough to keep them alive. I carried them, awkward in my claws and mouth, back to my own scorched pond.

I dropped them in.

Some panicked. Others floated still. But a few darted off, surviving.

I went back. Again. And again.

Until my pond—my kingdom of water—was alive again. Not with the threat of predators… but with prey.

My prey.

I sat by the edge as the day waned, watching the tiny fish settle into their new home.

One day, they'd grow. Multiply. Fill the pond with life again.

And when they were big enough—

I'd eat them.

Not out of desperation.

Out of strategy.

Out of control.

This wasn't just survival anymore.

This was territory. This was farming. This was mine.

I was no longer just another creature in the wild.

I was a dragon with a domain.