Runner winced slightly as he awoke, feeling like his brain was moving through Jell-O on a Wal-Mart electric scooter. His eyelids were defiant of their owner that moment, refusing to lift despite the aggravated orders his brain was sending at a frantic speed. No! they seemed to say, We'll open on our own time, how about that? Runner, while his brain and eyes continued to argue, rolled over on his side and suddenly realized how cold his bed had gotten. And it didn't contort to his elbow when he propped himself up. Finally, his brain prevailed and he opened his eyes, blinking away the tears and studying his room. Or not. It was a concrete bunker. Walls, floor, ceiling, all concrete. The only break between was the naked bulb the protruded from the ceiling like a pimple. In an act of revenge on the brain, his eyes wandered and looked directly at the light, sending a sharp pain running down his neck.
"Ow!" he spat out, turning away and rolling back on to his stomach.
"O-oh…so you are awake now," a small voice sounded.
From nearby, hanging from what appeared to be a hanger of some type, was a large, iron cage. The cage resembled something like an old bird cage, but inside was no bird. Inside the cage, was a tiny dragon. The small creature had a slight insect-like appearance, a pair of antennas upon its head instead of horns, wings like a large dragonfly. Purple feathers ended at its tail, another pair of smaller wings at the end of the tail. At the base of its long slender neck was a collar of sorts, a strange gemstone embedded in the collar.
"You have been asleep for quite awhile," the small dragon's voice softly said, "At least 3 days you have been sleeping straight."
Runner's unkept hair was plastered to his forehead, for he sweated when he slept. Daw, shit, he thought as his eyes rested on the creature, What the hell did I get myself into now? He debated what reaction he would throw out. Panicked? No, he didn't have that in him. Surprised? Well, that would require him to be surprised. Eventually he landed on casual, and found the idea quite pleasing.
"Only 3? Pity." Perfect.
He decided against getting to his feet. Seemed like a waste of energy, and besides, what did he need to get up for? Wasn't like there was a coffee machine in the corner to help him wake up.
Avar floated slightly above the ground, her simple blue robe concealing any feet she may have had. Her white, frosty wings fluttered gently, but they didn’t seem to be the thing holding her up. Her eyes were pure black, contrasting against her pure white skin. She nervously twisted a lock of deep blue hair with a white finger, her eyes darting around the concrete bunker.
The tiny dragon's antennas twitched, seeming to swivel backwards, its ears also laying flat back. The creature was only about the size of a falcon, sitting on the hanging perch in the iron cage. Its tail curled around the bar that held the perch, small wings fluttering slightly.
It turned its head, seeing another floating silently in the darkness. It could sense the nervousness in the air. The small beast couldn't really blame the individual, being trapped in a tight space was never a good feeling, especially when the space was even tighter. It gave another chirrup, looking over.
"So another has awoken?"
Avar looked at the little dragon, fear growing in her eyes as she summoned her magic reflexively, frosty blue swirling around her wings and hands.
Blair clucked his tongue and blinked his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of them. "Godsdamnit." The scared boy muttered, pushing his hands against the wall as his tail flicked out. His eyes began to adjust to the lighting, so, he stood up, using the wall as guidance.
Avar closed her black pits of eyes, and focused, the magic around her hands turning into a frosty blue mist. She manipulated the mist to surround her, creating a protective shield of freezing mist.
"I am hardly a threat," the small creature spoke quietly, sensing the shift in the air, feeling the magic.
Its tail unwrapped from the perch, gesturing around at the iron bars that formed its cage, "I cannot do much other than sit on my perch and simply watch as more awake."
Avar listened to the dragon. She wasn’t that afraid of it, she knew dragons. She was scared of the grounders. Her father had told her stories of the grounders, horror stories.
"I advise against using your magic," the dragon's voice spoke once again, "These walls are dangerous…absorbing any and all magic you posses if you use it. Even when not using your powers, they are slowly being drained. Using them will just drain them faster."
The creature gave a sad chirrup, the ears flat back and antennas drooping downwards. The small beast must have been once very vibrant and beautiful, but now it was a dull, unkept mess. Violet and white scales were dirty, the small feathers grimy and no longer well groomed.
Avar stared at the dragon in horror.
“But…that means…I’m made of magic,” Avar hugged herself in fear as the mist dissipated.
Azrael watched quietly from his corner, observing in silence as he studied the reactions of the others. At the dragon's words he pushed himself up, sitting back on his calves and running a hand along the wall curiously. He doubted the walls could keep him confined for very long. Not with the beast inside of him. A few seconds passed and he turned to look at the dragon again. "How long have you been here?" he asked bluntly, no trace of sympathy or pity for the obviously haggard creature. No reason in asking pointless questions like, How did I get here? How do I get out? How does this work?
The small dragon looked to the female, "Then it will most likely just drain you of your powers. It won't exactly kill you…"
It turned its head towards the newest male who had asked his question. The little creature's ears remained laid back, antennas drooping. Its wings were folded to the best of its ability against its sides as once vibrant blue eyes had become dull.
"Too long…I don't even remember. Though if I'd have to take a wild guess, probably 200 years I think."
It gave a soft sigh, "I'm considered 'too valuable' to sell…"
The dragon's words told Azrael what he needed to know. He gave each of the others in the room a measured look, one that didn't seemed to fit the seventeen year old's face. He crept closer to the cage the way a cat may stalk a bird, seemingly not noticing as a tail of vertebrae flicked behind him, signalling the partial takeover of his body. He reached the cage and stopped, frowning in thought. "What happens if I let you out?"
Avar wasn’t comforted by the dragon’s words. Her powers were her life essence being manipulated, unlike the magic of other dimensions. There was absolutely nothing stopping all her magic, her life essence, being drained away. She shuddered, slumping onto the floor. As she lowered, a long white tail that seemed to be made of mist revealed itself from under her robes. She had no legs.
The small dragon lifted her head up as the male approached. Her dull blue eyes gazed steadily at him. The creature's gaze shifted to behind the male, noticing the white bones that seemed to make a tail behind him, or so that is what it appeared to be to the dragon.
She leaned back slightly, "Try if you wish, many have before, and not one has succeeded."
The creature's antennas shifted a bit, one of her small ears perking forward. She then proceeded to lean backwards, using a delicate paw to point at the strange collar around at the base of her slender neck. The small dragon gave a shad chirrup, "Even if you did manage to free me, this collar is like a beacon to the one who runs this hellish 'prison'. They will find me again…"
Avar began hyperventilating, her black eyes widening as she thought about her father, and, and oh how she wished she was home right now! She began crying quietly, cold tears sliding down her cheeks.
Azrael ignored Avar's sobbing, casting an inquisitive look at the collar around the dragon's neck. "And if I killed them?" he mused, tail lashing suddenly as the glint of a blade gleamed at the tip.
The small dragon looked over, noticing the girl in the corner as she wept. It could sympathize with her, having been caged for so long, but eventually it had stopped weeping, sadly accepting its fate. The creature turned its head towards the male again.
"How do you plan to kill someone, when they are hardly ever seen."
The creature's antennas swiveled forward, twitching as they brushed against the bars of the cage. It shifted slightly on the perch it sat on, blue eyes glancing at the few individuals around.
"Though if you seek to escape, I wouldn't bother," its gaze shifted back to a large, iron door, "They will soon send guards to most likely check upon you all, and fetch me…"
As per Sawyer's daily job, they had to check if the prisoners had woken yet. They suspected not, but Sawyer couldn't argue with the higher-ups unless it was death or torture they sought. They approached the cell, teleporting inside so they wouldn't have to risk the prisoners escaping via a slightly open door. To Sawyer's surprise, the prisoners stood awake, one crying, and the rest talking. "I see you've woken up, that was quite the long nap you all took," They said, crossing their arms behind their back and using their well-rehearsed emotionless face and voice.
"'Hardly' means an opportunity," the redhead reminded the dragon, shifting his attention to the new appearance. "And I think I might have one…" he finished, but didn't give any indications of attacking Sawyer, yet. "Well, I did need the sleep, I suppose, but that was a little much, don't you think? Now my friends are going to be wondering where I am, and then I'll have to explain everything. Which is rather unfortunate considering they're seemingly the most dense people in all of eternity." He closed the distance between himself and the guard, giving him a challenging stare and crossing his arms. "So let's cut to the chase—What am I here for?"
Avar looked at Sawyer through strands of deep blue hair, and folded her icy wings around her, shielding herself from the others.
Sawyer shrugged. Probably for money. But it's not unheard of for them to be here for a different reason, They thought.
"Well, cat got your tongue?" Azrael asked, a hint of playfulness that came off as sinister. "I asked you a question. I really hope you aren't going to dismiss me that easily." He felt something trickling down his face and rolled his eyes, unceremoniously wiping away the blood from his sudden nosebleed. The creature inside him was growing angry at the teen's continuous refusal to let it take over.
