Commissioned from the talented  mizuki-chan, together with  bud1098's character Frostlake!

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No matter how many years stood between me and that weak, crying hatchling, I still always saw him. Watching helplessly as his nestmates soared away effortlessly on unseen currents that wound through the air, his wings completely useless to follow them no matter how hard he beat. I heard his voice pathetically begging them to stop, for just one of them to offer him a claw and guide him down. I felt that sinking feeling in his chest when he finally gave up on the attempt. The burn in his arms and legs as he laboriously made his way down the mountain upon which he was first thrust into the uncaring world. By the time he'd finally made his way to the bottom, his energy was spent, while the others had already eaten their fill and moved on to who knew where.

He was not the only dragon in my memories who wore my own scales. There was that reckless, vengeful youth as well. I still heard the crackle of the energy tether that bound him. I felt it bite into his shoulder. I smelled the burning flesh as his merciless master forever branded him. Those - hours? days? - kept alone in the darkness, the stone floor biting the scales off his knees. The silence, save for the mocking laughter of the guards and the master as they occasionally strolled by.

It was hard to miss the reminders of those broken dragons that lay everywhere I went. Every time I looked at the sky and saw newly-hatched dragons soaring, their wings faintly shimmering with some ethereal force as they glided down to catch their first meals. Every time I stepped into town and saw others stroll by the ivory fountain, enchanted with an endless stream of clear water, and not so much as give it a glance, as though it was not the most amazing spectacle in the world. Every time some strange human or wolf or centaur casually asked me to help them identify a spell, and I could only slink away, muttering some off-hand excuse.

Sometimes, it just takes an observer from the outside to help us see our own value.

"I heard about the time you slew a kraken!" the faun chattered, clutching the picture close to him like it was a treasured heirloom. "No one can take down a kraken, and you did it on a tiny boat with just a sword!"
"Ah, the stories may have been exaggerated," I said. "They usually are."
"But you did, didn't you?"
"I did. But I had to use a bit more than just my sword. There were treasures in the deep that helped..."

Frostlake's eyes glimmered as he gazed upon me, speechless. I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. That tiny hatchling from so long ago never would have dreamed anyone would look at him like this.
"What about the time you defeated the swamp hydra? Or stopped the rampaging magma golem? Or recovered the Celestial Chalice? You're, you're incredible! I hardly thought you could possibly be real!"
I looked down with a grin. "Everyone starts out in the same place, Frosty. Where we came from doesn't matter as much as where we are."