For many dragons, curiosity was the greatest cause of death, especially to the inexperienced youth. Curiosity was harsh and cruel, and rarely was it rewarding.

And yet, despite this, dragons, the most feared beasts in the world, could not help themselves. Something caught their attention, they had to explore, had to see what it was. That rare chance that this curiosity could be rewarding was just too tempting.

Still this young changewing followed her curiosity with caution. Her nostrils were full with the smell of smoke and burning flesh, of burning wood and melting metal. She knows she was drawing near a human territory. That humans feared dragons, just as they feared them; going near humans was a deadly risk.

And yet, she had to know.

Why the smoke?

Why the fire?

Why the smells?

Was it another dragon?

Did one attack the human territory?

The thought made the young changewing nervous.

If a new dragon successfully ran the humans away, it'd want a big territory, and it wouldn't want to share. And she didn't have a pride to help her.

The changewing was on her own.

And rivals wouldn't risk her presence.

Rivals may not even let her escape with her life.

Especially with her being alone.

So this, this was just a peek, or so was her way of thinking. She'll be hidden, she'll be fast.

She'll see what caused this thick smell of smoke, see if she should go ahead and flee and find a new home.

This curiosity was a precaution.

She intended to live past it.

Peeking out past the trees to the humans' homes below nestled on the cove, the dragon blinked her large blue eyes in surprise, raising her pinkish red head high, unafraid of being seen.

There was nothing to fear.

The humans' homes were awash of thick black smoke and angry orange fire. And sniffing the air, she could tell this wasn't a dragon's work.

A clicking rumble bubbled out of her as she peered down, shuffling on her claws, indecisive.

Logically, she should go.

There was no dragon to threaten her.

And if there were surviving humans, she could easily avoid them.

She should just go back to her hidden niche and hide away. Survive like all other dragons should.

And yet…

Crouching low to the ground, the pinkish red changewing with rare black spots crept towards the smoky village, cautiously camouflaging herself, still very curious.

Smoke curled around her long body as she slid through it. She kicked up ash with every step she took, ruining her camouflage. Her blue eyes slid quickly over any dark lumps on the ground, lumps she instinctively knew were human. She kept her eyes to the homes that humans nested in. Homes that were round and squared, with an entry way that was almost too small for her. Like everything else, these homes were dark, charred black by fire. By this attack. Some homes still glowed orange, embers refusing to die.

She chirped nervously, blue eyes sliding about.

She still didn't understand why this happened. Why did the human territory burn?

She didn't smell any dragons here, and the only other that could make fire were humans.

Did humans attack then?

She knows humans fight each other just as dragons do.

She's seem them hiss, snarl, and roar to each other. She's seem them get violent too.

So if not a dragon attack, this had to be a human one.

The thought had her creeping back, nervous.

What if those humans were still here?

And she was a young changewing on her own…

Spooked by the possibilities, she turned to flee, only to knock her head into one of the burning, ashen homes. She jerked back, surprised. Her blue eyes locked onto a figure huddled up by the door, nearly hidden.

A very small human.

Smallest she's ever seen.

Small and thin, with clothes burnt through, and sizzling pink spots on her bare arms.

Undeniably intrigued and forgetting the possible danger around her, the young dragon crouched close, nostrils twitching as she took a sniff of the small human by the door.

The changewing caught a very sweet smell under all the smoke and ash. A smell she liked. A floral smell. Like flowers. The changewing liked flowers. And something else something sweet.

Clicking to herself, she slipped her head through the frame, jumping when her horns bounced off the weak wood. The nest shuddered, but didn't move outside that. Eyeing it warily, she laid her jaw on the human, feeling it move as it breathed, feeling the pound of a heartbeat, the flow of blood through her.

This human was still alive.

And alone.

Prideless.

A lot like the changewing was.

The dragon gave a contemplative rumble, frowning.

She found a live, small human, alone, unconscious, and defenseless.

Most dragons would kill the human, or leave the human be, leave it to the harsh judgement of life to decide the human's fate.

She should do the latter.

Leave the human be, leave the human to survive on its own, like everything else.

It die, it die.

That was life.

And yet… the small body felt so weak under her jaw. Were all humans so soft and helpless? There was no protection on this human at all. No hard scales, no claws or fangs or wings or horns.

No wonder humans feared so much.

They were so soft.

So defenseless.

Maybe that's why they wanted to fight everything. To prove that they weren't.

And this one was so small, it had to be a child.

A child likely on its own, prideless.

An instinctive spark went through the dragon, her blue eyes widening.

They didn't have to be.

Rumbling to herself, the dragon slid the human along the ashen floor when she withdrew from the human nest. Eyeing the small human child, she nudged them, feeling a soft, round cheek beneath the changewing's scaly lips, and the delicate bone framing the cheek. Such a soft little being. It was almost frightful how easily broken this could be.

Clicking, the dragon stood, wrapping her dark claws around the little human. This was a likely bad idea on the dragon's part, but… it felt wrong to leave the human alone.

But, she didn't like to be alone.

She shouldn't be alone.

And neither should humans, from what the changewing observed.

This could work for both of them.

And she's always been curious about humans.

And some dragons have gurgled tales of human and dragon partnerships, living in peace with one another.

This wasn't impossible.

And, there was nothing left for the human here. The dragon looked about. She couldn't see anything the human may desire.

It was probably best to leave.

Spreading her great wings, the dragon flapped heavily, sending ash and smoke and embers flying as she rose up with a little human in her claws.

Marinette woke slowly, her body throbbing and sore. There was a stinging itch on her arms, shoulders, and legs. And her throat was painfully dry.

She coughed, body hunching up as she heaved. She laid still with a pained groan.

Blinking heavily, Marinette squinted, brow furrowed when she didn't recognize the area.

Summer green trees loomed over her, soft and lush with life. The echo of singing birds filled the air, their shadows darting across the forest floor.

Frowning, her eyes glanced around. Her gaze skimmed over a small creek, over moss covered stones of all shapes and sizes, to the looming honey brown trees reaching for the bright blue sky above.

...What was she doing in the forest?

She didn't remember coming out here…

She…

She remembered…

Shouting…

The pound of scared and angry feet…

Hot, fire…

Marinette tensed.

Raiders.

Pirates.

She, she remembered an attack.

There was an attack!

Her home!

Her parents!

Marinette jerked up, nearly hitting her head on a low hanging roof above. She rushed out, stumbling as she ran out of the hollow in the ground. She intended to get back home, to see if anyone survived, to see if her parents made it.

Please, she thought, ignoring the harsh bite of sharp stones and sticks she brushed against in her rush.

Please let them be ok.

She just made it out when a series of clicks sounded out behind her.

Marinette froze.

She knows that noise.

It was a noise all children were taught to stay away from. To be careful of.

Heart pounding and adding to her nerves, she slowly looked back.

There, peering at her was a blue eyed, ruby pink and black spotted changewing.

One of the trickiest mysterious dragon breeds to ever come across.

This dragon spat acid, hypnotized, could disappear in a blink of an eye.

And it was right behind her…

The dragon tilts it's head at her, pupils huge as it rumbled out, a long forked tongue sliding out and tasting the air.

Or tasting her.

With a scared squeaking squeal, Marinette jumped up and tore off, almost tripping and ramming head first into a tree. She stopped herself just in time and hurried on.

She was oblivious to the befuddled dragon behind her, watching her tear off.

Marinette ran fast and far, tripping and stumbling as she went. She took a huge trip, ramming her arms along the forest floor.

Hissing under her breath, she sat up with a cringe, eyes stinging as tears watered. Biting her lips, she eyed her angry pink arms. Then jerked up, Marinette looked back, breathing hard and fast.

No dragon.

Or, so it seemed. Changewings can camouflage…

For a few seconds, she sat still, holding her breath and waiting.

Nothing moved.

No sound came.

It was just her.

She was ok.

Now that the dragon was behind her, her mind went back to her home.

Had to see for herself that her home was ok that everyone was fine. Just head to the cove. That's where home was. Just follow the smell of the sea and the listen for the dull rush of waves.

She only slowed when she caught the smell of smoke.

Her heart beats heavy and hard in her chest, her body queasy and shaky. She felt sick knowing what that smell could mean.

Please.

With stiff steps, she crept out to the thinning trees, looking down at what was once her home.

It, it was a mess of grey. Snow white ash covered the ground like a pale scar. The buildings that had been homes and businesses were charred lumps in that pasty scar. Grey smoke rolled off her village in waves. Even here, where she stood on top of the hill, she could still feel the heat of this attack.

It, her home, her parents, her friends, everyone was…

Her legs crumbled under her, her palms scraping along the grass, stopping her from sliding down to the smolder below.

It was gone.

Everything was gone.

She, it was only, it was only her…

Everything else was...

So caught up in staring out, feeling numb with shock and grief, she didn't hear the heavy steps of the approaching dragon behind.

Didn't feel the hot breath at her back.

She jumped, pitching forward slightly when she was nudged from behind by warm scales. She whipped around, eyes meeting the gaze of the long beast looming over her. The changewing clicked down at her, pupils large, head tilting.

Too hurt and broken, she slumped down, curling up on herself, uncaring it the dragon came at her. There was nothing she felt like doing right now.

With a rumble, the changewing moved and laid over, wrapping Marinette up in a cocoon of warmth, hiding her away from the world.

At sixteen, Adrien Agreste should be a legend among his village, just like his parents. And technically, he sort of was. Just… not the legend people expected.

He was the son of Gabriel the Cold, and Alecia the Elegant. He had received his father's poise and intellect, his mother's grace, beauty, and charm. He had his mother's skill of music and dance. He had her smile. His father's glare. He was well liked by the village of Pari, well sought for as well.

Sort of.

Kinda.

...To a certain point…

At this age where teens were starting to look for matches, he did not have the biggest, most appealing trait that many Vikings looked for.

It wasn't looks, but dragon fighting that was desirable.

And Adrien had not received either parents' skill with dragons. More specifically, he didn't have their interest in killing them. Or well, most Vikings' interest in killing them.

At fifteen, he was titled Adrien the Curious.

Those that didn't know him well had called him the Luckless.

And some rival villages went as far as to call him the Foolish, for some very understandable reasons.

But in his defense, he just couldn't quite help himself.

Curiosity was one of the traits he's gotten from his mother.

He just sadly got it for a poor choice of study.

Adrien stopped, watching a colorful blue deadly nadder raise it's tail high, spikes poised and ready to be fired. The nadder's pale ruby eyes were locked on him, set on throwing those spikes at the young Viking. Not that Adrien noticed, too caught up in noticing the unique coloration on that tail. There were ruby spots decorated over it, the spikes themselves also seemingly dipped pink and-

"Adrien get down!"

A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down as the nadder slashed it's tail, sending those spikes flying to where he was just seconds ago.

"Did you see those Chlo?" Adrien asked, turning to look back at those spikes, thrown hard and fast enough to send cracks through the wooden wall behind them. He'd certainly be dead if those hit. He turned to the irritated blonde, famously known as Chloe the Fierce, his childhood friend. "Those had to be moving at a speed of-"

"What are you doing outside?" Chloe demanded, cutting him off.

"Oh," Adrien sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Uh, a terrible terror kinda got into the house, and I thought I could at least take care of that but…" the little purple dragon ran out and Adrien followed; but not only did he lose it in the chaos, he had gotten distracted by everything dragon he caught a glimpse of.

He couldn't help himself though!

These were fascinating creatures!

He was constantly noticing all these cool things about dragons.

Nadders had to set their feet just right before they throw spikes.

Terrible terrors were easily bribed.

Gronckles were easily distracted and naturally curious and playful and lazy.

And-

"Just get back inside," Chloe scolded, tiredly running a hand over her face, shooting a miffed look through loose bangs that hung over her face. She warned him with a dark frown, "If you get caught, I'm not covering for you."

"Yes Ma'am," he sighed, pushing a little rock away from him, watching it roll down the slope.

There was a snarl above and the two blonds sharply looked up. The nadder found them and had the head tilted, glaring down with one ruby eye. It's broad jaw opened with a hiss, wings spreading out and casting them in shadows.

It would've been really scary if this didn't happen every week.

Chloe reacted. Jumping up, she punched the nadder in the jaw. The dragon drew away with a surprised squawk, and Chloe pursued with a battle cry. The nadder jumped up with a cry, kicking it's claws out and trying to slash at her while it flapped away from the Viking.

Adrien took the chance to rolled away and got up to flee back to his home.

Preferably before his father saw him out in this. He'd be in so much trouble if he did.

With how easily distracted he got in his observations, he's been banned by the chief and his father from taking part in handling dragon raids. Largely for his own safety, and the peace of mind of the whole village, so not having to watch out for him during the raids.

Though personally, Adrien didn't think it was that bad.

Ok, yeah, he could've saved that barn if he wasn't caught up trying to figure out how a monstrous nightmare lit itself on fire and how those scales held the flames.

And maybe those ships if those gronkles didn't go rolling down.

And…

Well, yeah.

Adrien supposed he's messed up time to time...

Despite what Adrien may want to think, it was a grim truth that dragon fighting just wasn't for him.

It really was best if he just stayed in and waited those out.

But it was so unnerving to sit and listen to all the chaos happening outside, and he couldn't help. Or just do something at least.

But really, what could he do?

The smithy he almost burnt down.

He got too easily distracted for setting up traps, and he tried help planning them but making plans just wasn't his forte…

It really seemed like there was nothing he could do to help during raids and it was a fact that bothered him.

But, what could he do?

Dodging flames, large bodies, and weapons, Adrien worked his way home. The worse he got was a smudged of his clothes burnt away from a wild flare.

Sighing as the chaos continued to sound around him, Adrien stopped for a moment to watch it. Fire danced and glowed, making the form of dragons flicker in and out of view. Roars and shouts filled the air as bodies rushed about, trying to get at the other. It was a battle functioning well, without him.

Sighing, he turned and opened the door to the home he shared with his father and stepped in. Only to stop for a moment, listening intently.

There was a soft shuffle in his home, something moving around.

Something small, something light.

Adrien's eyes widened, pressing closer to the doorframe, looking around.

Another dragon had come into their home?

How rare.

Reaching down, he grabbed a stick his father kept by the door, and slowly, crept deeper into the room, searching for the dragon that had slipped in.

Adrien lifted the stick up when he spotted red scales, only to stop, surprised.

Those weren't the scales of a dragon.

Those were scales worn by a girl.

A girl he didn't know, wrapped up in a red cloak like thing with black spots dotted all over. A girl that was oblivious to him as she snooped through their things, lifting little knick knacks, some she put back, some she stashed in her bag at her side.

Adrien stared, his mind going blank, just so surprised by this.

Who was she?

Why was she in his home?!

Narrowing his eyes, Adrien lowered the stick, ready to swing it. He crept closer slowly, keeping his steps light and wary, trying to catch her by surprise.

It was quite a wonder what thief would come during dragon raids?

Especially to a Viking village.

And steal from the home of Gabriel the Cold?

That was a promise of pain.

He was raising the wood up, ready to strike this thief in the back of her head.

A sharp hiss cut through the air and the girl whipped around, startling Adrien.

Sky blue eyes, bright against a red mask, peered at him in surprise.

He stared back, locked on those eyes and this strange mask she wore that covered her face, sewn together by scales.

He heard the shuffle of claws of a near dragon coming closer and hurriedly moved to hit her.

She moved faster than Adrien. Before he could reach her, she grabbed a vase and threw it at him. Adrien darted out of the way, wincing as it fell and broke on the floor. He turned to the girl, watching her rush to the window. He ran after her, reaching for the end of that cloak. He got it, and tried to tug the girl back.

She surprised him by grounding her feet, and pulling against his hold with great strength. "Who are you?" he demanded, trying to get a better grip as she started to squirm against him.

He saw something shift on the wall outside and with a sharp tug, the girl reached out. In a flicker of seconds, the girl disappeared from sight and in surprise, Adrien's hand flew open and he stumbled back, gaping at his window where the girl used to be.

She disappeared.

In just a few seconds.

She was, she was just right there, he had her, and now she was...

How was that possible?

No one could just simply disappear!

Unless…

No. No way.

She, she was a myth.

Just, just a myth, a phantom ghosting around this coast of the kingdom. Sightings of her were mere wild claims.

But, Adrien had seen her. He had touched her. Had a broken vase to prove that she had been there. And she had disappeared right before his eyes.

Could that have been Ladybug….?