Enceladus had been born with another half, a mirror image.
Family was, yes, blood, lineage: the identical wooden mask to his own, the great dragons from which they were descended.
These basic facts had been known to him before he had broken his shell.
But, like all dragons, his greatest affinity was to his rider, and he felt no greater calling than this: Blue, her back against Witch Hazel, both half asleep as a storm raged outside, the gentle rumble of thunder and endless...