the writers' corner!

Glassdoll

Cheesus
Sun


The blinding light behind the moon
Is a star that will show how bright it is soon
After the moon makes its way
The sun will shine throughout the day



The rays will whisper
In your ear
And become a figure

You will always fear
 

Chlomaki

Former EN Community Manager
hollow streets,
the conflagration absorbed tender souls,
and forcefully put into a blender,
we've all been obligated to go by
"lawful" rules.
the pale concrete, and footsteps stomping
with an axe in one hand,
and the lights decapitated by the one
that stands.

a sunny funeral, a cloudy smile
and the ocean's hue, oh so ever gray,
i want to hear your piano play,
as you unwillingly make mistakes,
and false accusations come your way,
did you believe i'd let you stay?

chaotic wildfires, engulfed by floods
the border has been torn,
and oaths have been sworn.
love me not, and love them so,
humanity is living a tale of woe,
you reap what you sow.
 

Aesthetic

MAH CHEESE!
As he trudged down the winding dirt road leading to Erme’s hut, the dark Imperial noticed the moon was cradled between two soft, fluffy clouds high in the night sky. It looked almost like a symbol, one burnt into his mind from long ago but long lost in his advancing memory. Possibly his mother’s family symbol, he really couldn’t tell. The trees whistled the Windsinger’s whispered song, the bitter rain tapping on his shoulders and wings repeatedly as he used them for shelter. His paws felt numb enough that he stumbled a few times through the dripping curtain of droplets plummeting from the darkening clouds above, yet he still continued until he could grip the dreadfully cold handle of the Medic’s hut and shoved the door open.
The walls were pristine, polished to a shine and a stark contrast to the darkness of the world outside, the floor having the same contrast as his dripping paws slapped against the tiles in spite of any efforts he was making to keep quiet. Curtains of silk the colour of roses fluttered eagerly, almost looking desperate to leave their brass hooks and curtain pole behind. Oak and birch bookcases lined the outskirts of the room, leaving only the smallest gap for a single white curtain that led to the back room where Erme let the most serious patients stay. The closer he got to that one, still curtain, the quieter the world outside became and the louder the speech coming inside.
“…I think you’re very brave,” a rough but soothing voice came from the room beyond, brushing past the Imperials ears like a swooping bird. “It’s not every day we get dragons like you coming from foreign lands, and after being treated the way you have been I’m surprised you’re so trusting.”
“Ho kaiv a kayikx avai ulo houl klark,” a second, softer and unaccented voice came in. Belris; their local translator.
“Ho ka?” their newest member seemed to ask, though since Xavior didn’t speak his native tongue he couldn’t be much surer about it.
After having enough of just standing there and waiting with an aching heart, he gently pushed the curtain aside and stepped in, making sure to smile so their new companion wasn’t frightened by him suddenly barging in.
Erme, the Medic, was sat with her back towards the three males and seemed to be writing down everything she could. She had silky brown fur and her features were more catlike than dragon-like. She had green eyes that were slit down the middle by a black abyss of a pupil, and she wore a single overcoat with a small pouch just above her right thigh and her wings donned a single lattice of Diaphanous Sylvan around the edges.
Belris was sat beside a Leaden Imperial who went by the name Caden, and most of his apparel was missing. He only wore a crystal white shirt, his specs and a rose flower crown, this time around, which was very rare for the Imperial. More often than not, he was sat reading his Plague Tome – supposedly containing knowledge of all kinds of worlds and places – or was trying to get his pastel read cloak to stop fluttering in every faint breeze that passed by the Focal Point.
Caden; well, he came to them in nothing. No clothes, not even a familiar. All he wore was bruises and a smashed up paw and arm and snapped bones in his wings from all of the abuse he’d taken aboard a slaver’s ship. At first, Xavior thought he had been a slave, but they quickly learnt that he as a disgraced dragon for reasons he hadn’t yet told them. Belris and Xavior had to cart him to their lair, which took an overall of two days to accomplish and all the while Xavior and Caden were having a translated conversation. He’d learnt that his father had tried to abuse him in front of everyone, and his mother hadn’t tried to stop him. In the end, it was the slavers who did it and his father had been able to sit there and watch in glee.
Everytime Xavior had asked the poor male what had caused it, he just went as silent as the night the peace broke across Sornieth. It upset the older one of the two greatly, but he never pushed. He couldn’t bring himself to as Caden always had a look of fear in his eyes and a stiff posture whenever any dragon got too close.
“Hey, Caden, how are you doing?” he asked politely, sitting down slowly so as to not cause any sudden noise and startle him like a deer in the woods.
Caden’s face scrunched up in effort to remember the little Sorniethan he’d been taught on the travel. “I am… good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. I am very good.”
Silence passed over briefly as the Lieutenant thought of a new topic. “You’re learning Sorniethan quickly, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes.”
“It’s very impressive.”
“I do not know what that means,” he said sadly, staring at the bed beneath him and drawing circles in the covers with his claws.
“It means good,” the Lieutenant told him warmly, smiling.
“Then yes, it is very good.” The golden-winged male stretched a smile over his features, but couldn't manage to hide the wince of pain from the bruises on his eye and his cheeks. Xavior could feel his heart sinking to his stomach as he smiled, rage and overwhelming upset overriding his usually-emotionless nature.
"Belris," he said formally, "can I talk to you?"
He nodded his snow-white head, budging his crown of flowers ever so slightly. "Of course."
The pair of them moved into the front room with the crystalline walls and the soundproof padding underneath. "You like him, don't you?"
The question was extremely sudden, taking Xavior by surprise as he looked Belris in his oval shaped eyes. He could lie, but what was the point? Belris could read anyone like an open book, even Chaol - the clan's mercenary.
"Yeah," he said after a few seconds of consideration. "I do."
"How much?"
Xavior didn't answer.
"How much, Xavi?" his friend asked, anger turning into his voice. It made it sound rough and spiteful, not like his usual silky-soft voice.
"A... hell of a lot. Why?"
"Dammit."
Concern started to befall upon his heart. "What is it, Bel?"
"I didn't expect you to like him. That's all."
"Belris--"
He'd already began storming off into the frozen night behind, leaving a confused and slightly hurt Xavior to wonder what all of the anger was actually about with one single question coming to mind.
Did Belris like him, too?
---
The library door had been left open to help with cooling the large, wooden building down in the heat of summer. The enormous glass windows at the front and sides did what they could to help, having been opened during the night before.
Xavior trotted up towards the entryway, peeking in to see if Caden was in there. He had been for the last few months, practically living there as he read and read all kinds of books, the larger male finding out that his favourite book type was Human Mythology. A few days every week, he'd go to the market place to pick up some more orders for the fluorescently runed Imperial, always having to go but never feeling like he had to. It was always a wanting to prove to Caden that he wasn't going to leave like he often thought he would, and that he loved him in one of the most innocent and selfless ways possible.
He had some more books with him today, some he'd known Caden had been eyeing for a while despite the fact he couldn't read their entire titles without help. It was strange, Xavi often found himself thinking, that Caden was the best book keeper they had and he still couldn't read Sorniethan that we'll. It didn't bother him, though, and nor did it bother Cay that much.
The bag bounced against his hip as he trotted inside, towards a rectangular table in the middle of the cooling room. Velvet curtains were strung up to the side of the crystalline and mirror-like windows, swaying to and fro with measley efforts, and a rug with the Runic Bureau's coat-of-arms was laid out neatly on the floor. A fireplace of ancient stone was sat in front of the oak table, roaring silently with a dim fire for the dragon sat in front of it. He wore a light, golden white silk shawl and a matching sash around his waist. His arms and his legs were draped in golden silk, and he had a pair of golden half-moon specks balanced on the bridge of his nose. Xavior had to keep himself from smiling every time he saw his crush, which had developed to a staggering height in the last couple of months.
"Hey, Caden!" he called out with a smile on his face and a glint in his deep ocean eyes.
He turned suddenly, confused for a fraction of a second before returning the smile. "Hey, Xavi!"
"How are you doing on this fine morning?"
"I'm okay, thank you. How are you?"
"I'm great!"
"Even after travelling to a whole other continent for my books?" He seemed to ask the question with a small hint of guilt, sinking Xavior's heart.
"Yeah, of course! Anything for you as a... best friend!" He stuttered on those final two words, hoping his friend wouldn't notice what he was wanting to say.
"Well, thank you again Xavior. I really do like that you would do that for me."
"Of course."
The dragon settled down next to his gold-winged friend and set the books out before him. He'd been out and chosen a few from Caden's endless pile of wanted novels and novellas, those being; The Love of Learning, Macbeth and Percy Jackson - all of which being old Human novels and novellas and plays from way back in time.
Caden cocked his head and pointed to one of the books. "What does that word mean?"
Xavior saw he was pointing towards the word "Love" and flushed a light scarlet colour, turning away slightly until it faded.
It didn't.
"It's kind of like saying "I love you", I suppose," he said, turning back and feeling his cheeks rising slowly in heat.
"It is?"
"Yeah."
"Huh."
"Speaking of, I have to show you something," Xavior told his crush, hoping and praying to the eleven Deities that this would go right.
"Is it a surprise?" his friend asked innocently.
"Yep. Close your eyes."
He did so, but only for a second before opening one of them and looking over his specks. "This is not a mean one, is it?"
"No no no, of course not!"
"Okay then." He closed his eyes again, looking more relaxed this time.
The fire crackled softly in Xavior's ear as he stared at his trusting friend, creating an orange glow on the side of Caden's face and shining onto his golden half-moons like the sun on the longest day of the year. He felt a longing to grab Caden's small and barely calloused paw and to pull him towards him, but he knew that'd freak the innocent male out and probably scare him off, so he refused the gesture.
He noted how he was pretty thin for one of the biggest breeds of dragon in Sornieth, and noted how the lead-coloured scales covering his body shone dimly against the dying fire, glowing in a faint brown-orange mixture. They seemed to sway down his posture like ripples on the water surface, or trickle down like water droplets racing down a cliffside... He knew that he was flushing deeply by the time he was finished and knew his heart was thumping around his ribcage like a wild animal, yet he could also see that Caden may have been laughing if he'd kept his eyes open, and that's when the negativity rushed into his heart with a flood.
'What am I doing? What if this scares him? What if he doesn't feel the same way?' Each thought got progressively more negative about the situation he'd been handed, but at the same time he knew that if he didn't take this chance, he may not get another.
"Have you got it yet?" Caden asked, going to open an eye and panicking Xavior into a quick, shouty response.
"No! Not yet, trying to find it."
"Oh, okay."
'Now or never', he thought after a few seconds of watching Caden continue to wait without any question and decided to close the distance quickly and seize the maybe-only situation he could've done this in; with no one else around, the Midnight Imperial took the opportunity to kiss his one and only real love in all his life.
He could tell Caden tensed up for a second and was about to pull away and apologise before he relaxed and felt two paws clasp onto eachother around the back of his neck as the gesture was returned. It was such a slow, innocently small thing that if it were with another, it may have not mattered much, but when he was with Caden, it was a whole lot different and meant much, much more than it ever could with anyone else.
After a few seconds that felt like hours, days - or even weeks! - just stuck in that one moment, he heard a soft laughing and opened his eyes to see Caden smiling his cute, little tooth-white smile at him. "What?" he asked innocently, chuckling.
"You've got no idea how long I've been waiting for you to do that," Caden said simply, still smiling from ear to ear.
"Wait--"
Caden just pressed a single digit pad to Xavi's mouth. "Hear me out on this, okay?"
He nodded.
The Shadow eyed male before him took a deep breath before allowing himself to speak. "I've known Sorniethan for something like two or three months after coming here, but I didn't tell you or anyone else because I wanted to see what you'd do; whether you'd laugh or you'd help, kind of thing. I was also building up to that moment as I went along, hoping you'd get the message." He laughed. "It seems like you kinda did."
"Actually, I just went on a limb. I didn't even get the hint."
The Metallic-scaled Imperial just sighed wistfully and pulled Xavior into a hug. "I love you. I have done ever since I met you."
"I love you too, Cay. Always have, always will."
---
"So, Nix is planning the wedding... Why, again?"
Xavior looked up from his book on Shadowhunters and saw Caden holding the letter Nix had sent them by a full-body mirror on the West side of the room, biting his claws in anxiety. His fiancé of the past year out of the four he'd now known - and dated - him for was often prone to anxiety over small things that weren't in his control, but this time Xavior understood where his doubt was coming from.
"She's going to the front in the next two months, and I wanted to give her something fun to do before she left," he explained lightly, sympathetic of his husband-to-be's worry.
"I hope she doesn't take "fun" to an extreme."
"She won't. I promise, babe. She knows how much this means to us both."
Upon seeing that Caden's anxiety wasn't ceasing, he put down his book - but not before remembering it was page 342 he was up to - and stepped over to him to hug him from behind. He wrapped his arms around his lover got a hold on the paw he was chewing on, clasping it tightly but not ungently as he lowered his own paw and let his arms relax against Caden's stomach. Leaning his own head against his golden-winged fiancé's, he whispered, "Promise me you'll stop worrying about it soon. Nix will do everything she can to make it perfect, and Mikos and Danni will be helping her out."
He glanced towards the mirror before them to see his future-husband smiling against his cheek and noted that he'd dropped the letter and had tucked his other soft paw into Xavior's free and extremely calloused one. "I will do, and there's something I want to ask you."
"Of course, what is it?"
Caden turned within Xavior's arms to look him in his deep, ocean blue eyes. Caden's own were a soft purple at this point, holding no hardness whatsoever. "Would you..."
"Mm?"
"Would you be mad if I said I wanted a hatchling?"
Xavior was struck with surprise. He hadn't anticipated whether or not they wanted a hatchling yet. He had wanted one, and could say he still does truthfully, so that's what he did.
"No, I wouldn't be mad, babe. I've wanted one for a while, actually."
"You have?" Caden asked delightfully.
"Yeah. Sure, they're difficult to handle and all that, but I have wanted one for quite some time."
Just as Caden went to say something, Xavior pressed a digital pad against his lips softly, keeping him quiet as he continued. "But, we may as well talk about it after the wedding and our honeymoon. I don't want you stressing out about that while it's meant to be one of the best times of our lives. Okay?"
He nodded quickly, his mood obviously lifted by the confirmation of getting a little hatchling to call their own. Xavior could even say he was over the mood with excitement to get a little hatchling, but even he had to stick with what he said; wait until after the honeymoon.
"What kind of hatchling would you want anyway, babe?" He asked Caden, who was smiling from ear to ear with newfound excitement.
"I don't mind, really. I'd just want to give them the childhood I never had."
The Midnight Imp felt his heart flutter at the words, thinking that Caden was too precious to be in Sornieth but being overly happy that he was and that he was his.
"I love you," he said randomly, burying his head into Caden's hair and mane.
"I love you too, Xavi. Always have, always will."
"Caden?" his mother cried in accented Talaijan, shock lining her eyes and face. "You...?"
The young dragon felt a hot flush come up and around his neck and cheeks as he stood before a crowd of dragons and dragonesses, all of them staring at him with curses in their eyes and insults swimming in their mouths. Filthy, vermin, sinner. The words alone in his head broke his heart, but they were true all the same. His family believed in the Divine; a Deity more powerful than those in Sornieth. No one had ever seen her, but all the same they followed her commands. Her number one command was horrific to Caden. It spoke of the hatred for dragons and dragonesses like him, and to be hated for something he couldn't help hurt him more than any insult ever could.
If a dragon is to be seen with one of his own gender, may mercy fall upon him as the punishment for such behaviour is subject to exile.
And that was that. He was going into exile.
"Caden," his father snarled, stepping forward from the crowd with infinite rage in his eyes. "How dare you think it's okay to BETRAY the family like that!"
"Father, please," Caden sobbed as his father drew closer. The young Imp could practically feel the rage seeping from his father as he raised his paw to hit him. Caden felt himself curling inwards to brace himself for the beating of a lifetime, feeling the sweat crawl down his face and mixing with his tears of fear and sadness at being found out.
"Don't touch him! He'll infect you."
The whole crowd, including his abusive father, turned to see the Devine's Messenger stood behind them. She was a golden dragon, with Opal spotlights shining out from her wings and arms with jewellery finer than the local ruler's - and that was saying something. She was donned in golden and white silks of the softest fabric, and her necklace looked heavier than a cartload of iron considering all of the jewels and the thickness of the gold.
"Messenger Carlai," Caden heard his father mutter, bowing his head and moving out of the Messenger's way. The whole crowd followed, creating a simple, infuriatingly simple path towards the "different" hatchling.
"Caden," she growled as she approached, sending a cold shiver down his spine.
"M-Messenger," he whispered in reply whilst he continued to curl away from the crowd's wrath.
"You know what the punishment is for such behaviour. Don't you?"
"Yes, but please. I can change-"
"Shut it, vermin!" a random dragon cried from the ever shifting crowd surrounding the little dragon male. It slowly but surely turned into a chant - "Sinning scum", that's what they were saying - and it continued to beat at his heart. He'd loved these people, and they'd all treated him normally this morning. But he'd been caught. Recklessly.
He'd been sat in a park with another male dragon, Andi was his name. Just thinking about the male set his heart racing around his ribcage like a Chimera on a racetrack. He had sooty-grey skin that shone in the sunlight and glossy purple wings. They'd just been sat there, watching the navy-blue pond swish this way and that in the softening wind. What happened next had all been a blur - Caden wasn't even sure he remembered it, but he did remember the feeling of getting caught. Andi's mother had come strolling into the park to find Andi running towards her, crying against what she saw. He'd said that it was Caden; he'd held him against his will and so on and so forth. Andi's words had cut deep, but despite Caden's own cries of mercy, no one believed him. After all, Andi was Carlai's nephew, and who'd believe that the Messenger's nephew was actually a gay dragon just like him?
"On a normal occasion," Carlai hissed, bringing him back to his senses, "I'd send you to a bootcamp. To fix you. But you put blame on my nephew, saying it was also his fault. Saying that he's a disgusting wretch just like you."
"But, Carlai-"
"Let me finish!" she roared, silencing him and the chanters in the crowd with her glare. "My nephew isn't like you. He's not a disgrace." She spat disgrace at him, a small bit of wet landing on his cheek. He was almost certain it wasn't a tear. "So, for that, you're being separated from this land. You're never permitted to come back, not even to visit."
"How will I talk to my-"
"We don't want anything to do with a family disaster, Caden," his father muttered, but not quite quiet enough so that it was only Caden that heard.
"I raised him like a normal boy," he heard his mother sob against his father's shoulder. "What did I do wrong?"
"Pack your things, sinner. You're leaving."
---
Three days. It'd been three days since he last saw anyone. No family, no friends. Not even a sailor. He was constantly fed through this whole under the door, so he never got to see who was on the other side, but he was yelled at enough times to tell that they were from Calai's personal region of leading dragons. Each day had been boring, and each night treacherous. His cell didn't even have a window in it; the only light was from the torch on the other side of the door, and it wasn't much. Whenever he asked for a torch, he'd been told no just in case he "infected" them, too.
"Hey, sinner!" a sailor called from the other side in a sneering tone. "We're nearly there."
"Thank you for giving me the common courtesy of telling me where the hell we are," he snapped back at them.
"Watch your mouth, sinner," the sailor sniped. "We've been given the order to kill you if you cause trouble. Oh, and the clan you're going into is called the Runic Bureau. There's little on this lair, but it should be the perfect punishment for you."
"Fine."
Caden listened to the shuffling footsteps slowly quieten until no sound came from this side of the ship. Only then was that when he allowed himself to break under the pressure of being constantly insulted by dragons who were different to him. He allowed himself to curl under his shining, soft golden wings and pretend that he was back at home with his family. His dear sister, his brothers and his parents. As he shook with the effort to shut his emotions down, he drifted off into a dreamless, dark sleep, falling into it with the hope of finding a better life somewhere else.
---
He's gorgeous, Caden thought to himself as a black and blue dragon stepped towards the Talaijan guard. He had eyes darker than an eclipsed moon and yet his smile shone out in contrast to such a thing. He was a slender dragon, but that didn't mean he hadn't any muscle on him. His wings, also, were slender, but looked very capable of wiping away an army of Beastclan. His accent was smoother than silk compared to Caden's own Talaijan accent, and movements more fluid than his own clumsy walk. He looked built for fighting and protecting, and that was something Caden became slightly afraid of.
The male called out to another dragon standing under a nearby Wispy Willow and then sauntered over to the blushing brown and gold Imperial male. He seemed to be saying something, but Caden didn’t understand anything he was trying to explain. It frustrated the week-old Imperial, but just being beside this dragon made him feel better. Why do I feel like this? he thought, entranced and dazed.
The imperial made said something to a pearly white and dark pink male beside him. He was called Belris by what little Caden could gather.
“Hey,” Belris said in unaccented Talaijan. “You’re Caden, correct?”
“Yes,” he replied shyly.
“I’m Belris, and this is Xavior.” He gestured to the dark Imperial beside him. “We’re here to take you to the Runic Bureau.”
“Am I going to be tortured?”
“What- No, never!” he cried in disgust. “Who would ever do such a thing?”
“My home country,” Caden sighed sadly.
Belris turned to the dragon next to him and spoke in Sornieth’s language, a clear sign of distress on his face. Xavior’s eyes widened in supposed shock by what the male was telling him, his wings seeming to tighten at his sides. He kept glancing towards Caden, each look getting sadder and sadder with every turn. He felt a wave of guilt for both of them, having to deal with someone who couldn’t even speak their language.
Belris turned towards him and said, “Xavior wanted me to tell you that you’re one-hundred percent safe with us. I’ll even teach you to speak our language! He actually wants to spend some time with you.”
“He-he does? Really?”
“Yeah,” he beamed, causing Caden to smile in return.
“I can’t wait.”
—-
“Won’t Nix be mad at you?” Caden said worriedly, looking towards Xavior with slight panic.
“Nix isn’t even interested in me, babe, don’t worry,” Xavior replied.
“Oh.”
“In fact, we’re only arranged,” he explained. “Our parents saw it as an opportunity to pair our clans together, yet we aren’t even remotely interested in each other.”
“More for me, then,” Caden smirked.
Xavior made a noise that sounded like the wind brushing through leaves as he moved over to a desk in the corner of their room. It sat idly in front of a large, portal-like window that watched over the whole lair. You could see the gardens that Eve and Aion manned with their adoptive son Oliver and you could gaze upon the sparkling jewellery shop that Love owned with her girl friends Reanne and Ethereal. Beside the window was a pair of silken red curtains tied with a golden ribbon to stop them from fluttering in the spring wind. Walls that were a pure contrast to the shimmering fabric were lined with numerous maps and charts of the ongoing war in a foreign country that the Runic Bureau offered to participate commanding in, as well as a portrait of Xavior’s parents and lists of names who needed to be kept an eye on.
“Is something wrong?” Caden decided to ask cautiously as Xavior took a seat at the paper strewn desk, cocking his head slightly to the right as he always did when asking a question.
“I’m fine, Cay, just tired,” his lover sighed. He wasn’t lying.
“Stop working yourself half to death and come to bed then. You keep saying you’ll catch up on sleep but...”
“I know.”
“Please, love?”
Silence dropped between the pair like an anvil as Caden took it upon himself to shuffle around on the soft cotton sheets to face the Lieutenant of the Runic Bureau. “Alright, I’ll come to bed.”
“Thank the Deities, you actually listened,” the Lead Imperial remarked sarcastically, laying his head down on a pillow nearby as he listened to the soft thuds of paws hitting the rough bear rug laying atop of the originally cobblestone floor. A wave of relief came over him as he heard the sheets crinkle under the added weight of his lover before letting himself curl up against the Midnight Imperial’s body for warmth. Caden felt a soft, feathered wing settle over him like a fluffy blanket as he let sleep claim him.
“Good night, my love,” he heard Xavior whisper before darkness curled around the edges of his mind, sending him wandering into the Dream state with a bright smile on his face.
 

Neurological

MAH CHEESE!
The lighthouse, in the midst of the storm, acts as a safe haven and shelter for those seeking respite.
Up above, the storm's rage envelopes around the area, arousing the environment to act against its provoking nature and fend for its territory.
While the light is being brought to life inside, it can't seek out help in the surge.

I am trapped within, of what I thought would distance myself from its formidable anguish, but it only enraged with pure defiance.
The darkness grew to circulate at the tip of the roof, swirling, twisting, wrenching its figure in disgust of human life and devouring the brightness in whole.
Nature has become power hungry. The size of the waves stretch over the cliff side and topple down as a large mass of bricks, all of which shatter like fragile glass, incapable of remaining strong once the blade bites. Every fragment is crash landing into the sea, the worst yet to come. The wreckage of the colossal traces are no more, now remnants of violence and despair.

I feel estranged yet curious of the outcomes if I were to leave, and being the curious one, I step one foot outside and slowly creep out. An uneasy entity stares from above, the power throttles and drives up to maximum. The waves fling and spray with hostility, like a corrosive liquid delving into my skin and tearing the life inside. It's a white wash to skin, erasing the warmth of blood flow and disrupting my energy source. The chaining cold blisters my skin. The remnants feel like piercing, stabbing knives, as though my hold would rip my hands without restraint.

The sky is dominant of an oppressor drowned in hatred, the groans gathering in clouds beseeching suffering, screaming out in cacophony, a rasp in my ears. The scent intoxicates wanderers of salt burning into their nostrils, burning into their eyes, agonizing with bloodshot eyes. From receiving all it got, the storm weakens; Although I can feel the relief and escape, I'm left with an experience I will never forgot. Its pain.
 

Soneri

Active Mouse
A lame short poem I made.
A bit triggering, read at your own risk.
A source of light blinded my eyes.
So entertaining, so beautiful, I thought,
as I poured my first tear through my eyes,
covered in smooth red pain.
The beginning of the endless questions
I asked, is my soul too weak for this?
Am I walking with my wings ripped out,
until I felt nothing but cold bones and cracked skin,
and my arms chained as blood slided down my wrists.
My eyes like a broken christmas lights,
they lost their bright.
Where did my pureness go?
I fell on my broken knees, infront of heaven's gates.
I whispered slowly,
Why couldn't I be happy?
 

Naki

Pingless
i guess i tried my best.
As I awkwardly roamed across the basement floor, the flower gown dragging behind me collecting everything in its path. I had no balance, my legs shaking as if they were made out of rubber. Not shaking from fear, but the fact I wasn’t able to hold myself. Nor could I breathe, each step I took the shallower and faster my breath became. I began to whimper. Questioning why I committed this. The apprehensive feeling was making me restless. My stomach in knots. As if there was a beetle scattering inside my organs. My mind racing, as I began to break into a cold sweat. The floor yelped in stress. Dust collecting in my stuffy nose and itchy throat. I started to cough. The light bulb above me went dead. I had no choice. As I twisted the rusty key, I held my breath and pushed the creaky door open.
 

Fictions

Shaman
Ivy Nichols was an unpredictable girl, simply. An unsolved mystery. She enjoyed school, yet could possibly be the one girl still partying at 5AM. She had coils of autumn leaf-brown hair which plunged over her shoulders and around her photogenic face. Rapture-blue eyes. Her complexion, impeccable, had an ochreous hue. Those desired thin eyebrows eased down gently to her velvety, long eyelashes. When she smiled, her beguiling white teeth lit up the room - it could jolt you much like an electric current - simply, everything about her demanded your attention, at all times. Her bouncy, upbeat personality matched her sugary voice and vibrant clothes, which everyone around her adored.
 

Kalani

Cheesoholic
People leave, that’s no secret, but it’s why they leave that’s so mind boggling. You ask yourself things like “why”, or “what did I do?”. Maybe you get tired of asking yourself those questions, so you answer them yourself. They left you because they got tired of your bullshit, or they left you because they didn’t need someone like you in their life. It all just confuses you.
But one thing you can be sure about, is that it hurts like hell.​
 

Spaced

MAH CHEESE!
I don’t know where you keep going
Getting tired of asking where you are
Every time I lose myself in your eyes
I find myself in the backseat of your car

Oh, I guess I could say
I wish I could wash the memories away
But mama told me to never tell a lie
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish you were mine

The years pass us by
Though every day seems so long since you left
Every time I cry
I wrap up in your sweater and pretend it’s your chest

And I’m sure you’d think me lame
But I saw the ring in your glove compartment last week
So maybe it’s time to change again
Maybe it’s time for you to come back home to me
 

Linden

Shaman
you've given me the walking blues
sometimes I feel like a dull periwinkle
other times, a depressive navy hue.
dull neutrals and blues vary shade to shade each day
I feel all my happy colors trickling down the drain
just to then drench me down like rain.
the farther I walk
the more soaked I get
I start to shiver
the water is cold..
my crown is a dull silver
no longer ambitious gold.
long walks in may
to fill my lonesome days
a welter of thoughts in my mind
walking for hours to unwind
staring blankly at my feet
my silence is sullen and bleak
my soul is frozen and broken
my body's north december
my flowers have wilted
cant help but pray
but its all just fading away
numb and shameful
weakened eyes
you were killed by pure lies.
 

Blookyghost

Little Mouse
Because a lie is not a lie if the teller
believes it, the way beautiful things

reassure us of the world’s wholeness,
of our wholeness, is not quite a lie.

Beautiful things believe their own
narrative, the narrative that makes them

beautiful. I almost believed it
until the new mother strapped

her infant to her chest, opened
the eighth-floor window,

and jumped. My daughter tells me,
after her preschool field trip

to the Firefighter Museum,
about the elephant mask, its hose

like a trunk, and the video of a man
on fire being smothered in blankets.

She asks me if she knows anyone
who got dead in a fire, anyone who

got fired. When will I die? she asks.
When I was a child, I churched

my hands, I steepled my hands,
and all the people were inside,

each finger a man, a woman,
a child. When I die, will you

still love me? she asks. The mother
cracked on the pavement—

how did the baby live? Look,
he smiles and totters around

the apartment eight stories up.
Beautiful things reassure us

of the world’s wholeness:
each child sliding down the pole

into the fire captain’s arms.
But what’s whole doesn’t sell

itself as such: buy this whole apple,
this whole car. Live this whole life.

A lie is not a lie if the teller
believes it? Next time the man

in the video will not ignite.
The baby will open like a parachute.
 

Chlomaki

Former EN Community Manager
shallow waters, i’m stepping ahead
tangled ends, i’m living dead
and i’m walking alongside dread
but i always find pale, glass dolls
lying in my bed.

the atmosphere was not of my temperature,
and mother's culture represents a broken sculpture.
o' lord, o' lord, i have grown so bored
and i grew numb to existence, and life
drowns me with the scent of rotting flesh,
but how could it still smell so fresh?

the ocean's tides are awakening,
and the moon's light is at stake
but it stalks me home and pleads for forgiveness,
and i'd say innocence is a bliss,
should you not put my name at risk,
i'd be marked next on the devil's list.
contact me through my windows,
you'll find the newlywed's widow.
 

Aesthetic

MAH CHEESE!
--- 1 ---
The glade stretched out before him in a mixture of green shades for the grass and golden-brown for the autumnal trees. It had a lake large enough to fit a normal sized ship and deep enough that the laps of water rested just under the sixteen-year-old’s chin, with fish of all sizes often brushing against the backs of his legs and wings, tickling him. Beside that lake was sat the dragon he wanted to talk to, posture relaxed as he seemed occupied by the water instead of anything else.
He quietly trotted over and forced a smile onto his face. It was a painful kind of smile, one that was obviously fake in the fact that it felt more like a grimace than a friendly, love-struck smile he would’ve given his boyfriend a few weeks ago. It hurt even more when he thought about what he had to say.
“Andi?” he said as he came up behind the dragon. The smile was still there.
The male before him looked up at him inquisitively, a single eyebrow raised in question. He had a slim figure that glistened a light blue colour in the late afternoon sun, with wings that were translucent enough to see the silhouette of anything and everything that walked or flew by but not so much so that they stopped shimmering like the icecaps in the North, his eyes sharing that same effect as soft, miniature snowflakes constantly fell from his eyes as if a snowstorm was inside of them.
“What’s up, babe?” his boyfriend asked in a bubbly voice.
“Shh,” Caden hissed gently, glancing around him in fear and his smile dropping into a small frown. No one was around. Good.
His voice turned to a whisper after that. “Sorry. What’s wrong, though? You look more anxious than usual.”
The male sat down next to Andi, wrapping his silken, golden wings around him and attempting to keep his anxiety at bay. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What did you want to talk about?” He felt a paw wrap around his back and push at his side to bring him closer and a surge of feeling uncomfortable swept over him quicker than before. Every time Andi showed him any display of affection, he felt uneasy, so much so that it’s led to this point in time, one Caden was hoping he’d never get to.
He moved himself out of Andi’s grip and turned to face him with sadness swelling in his heart and regret forming in his mind. “I… I don’t think I can…” Am I making the right choice…?
Andi only waited for him to continue, his iced eyes pinning him to the spot, hopefully unintentionally. They no longer looked gorgeous, nor soft or friendly. “You don’t think you can… what?” He asked in a flat tone.
Caden took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t think I can continue being your boyfriend, Andi. I think I’ve… fallen out of love with you.”
Andi just snorted. It wasn’t light-hearted. “You can’t be serious!”
“I am,” he said. He stared down at his wrist, focusing on the strange jumble of letters that were tattooed there ever since he could remember. “I don’t love you, and I don’t want you to be in a one-sided relationship. Nor do I want to pretend anymore.”
“What do you mean anymore?” Andi snapped. Seeing him angry at him terrified him, stilled him.
“I-I just mean that I’ve been pretending for—”
“For how long?”
“About two months…?” He looked up to see Andi’s brow furrowed and posture tense with fury. It made him try to think of a better way to put it, but it may already be too late. “I wasn’t sure before, and—”
“So you’re sure now?”
“Y-yes…?”
“And why do you think you’ve fallen out of love with me? I’m the only other gay on this island!”
Caden’s anxiety spiked at the cry. “Shush, someone will hear you!”
Andi got up onto his knees and looked up him directly in his scarlet eyes. He looked enraged to the point of his cheeks glowing a radiant pink. “Do you think I care?”
“B-but you could—”
“Boys?” a silken voice sounded in a posh Talaijan accent. “What’s going on?”
Both of their attention went to the female behind them, who looked very similar to Andi in the fact that she had a shimmer running along her body and a glisten in her wings. She looked mildly concerned at the situation at hand.
Andi only glanced back at him once before it happened, and Caden was too slow to stop him and his merciless cry of impersonated terror. “Mama! Caden’s gay, and he tried to make a move on me!”
“HE WHAT?” she shrieked, pressing a paw to her mouth in horror as she stared down at Caden.
He couldn’t breathe as he looked up into her frightened gaze. His anxiety clutched his lungs, stopped them from getting enough oxygen to concentrate on the world around him, and pain joined in soon after. Heartbreak hammered itself into his mind. Confusion clouded his vision. Fear jabbed at his heart. He couldn’t see anything once the tears started; couldn’t hear anything other than his own blood roaring in his ears; couldn’t heave a breath as it felt like his ribcage was closing in on itself; couldn’t even speak as he started sobbing. I can’t defend myself, he screamed internally. My father will only back them up.
A shooting pain bloomed in his cheek and he went sprawling into the lake behind him, the water coming up quicker than he could react and cutting off whatever air he could manage to get into his system. He’d thought the lake beautiful earlier, with the sun reflecting off of it and turning it a crystal blue, but now it was deadly. Now it was out to get him.
Caden twisted in the water and raised his head above the water level, choking the liquid out of his airway. His heart was pounding against his ribs, almost enough to snap them, and his eyes were filled with not only tears, but now lake water, and it stung almost enough as the words that Andi had screamed at his mother.
Just before he could see again, he was dragged out of the lake by the collar of his golden shawl and thrown onto the grass, a weight sitting on top of him and a hoarse voice ordering to get the Messenger now or else they’ll have to suffer with the ‘sick boy’ for longer than they have to. It was a familiar voice, and realisation hit him quickly.
Caden’s sight cleared and he gazed up at his father, slightly dazed. His father – Andreas – had a foot pressed on his chest, hard enough to crack his ribs, with the rest of his weight being balanced with the other, which was on the now wet field below them. He shouldn’t be surprised to see his own parent turned against him, especially after his father having tried to ‘beat his sexuality’ out of him since he was seven, but somehow he was, and it hurt more than anything.
“Andreas, that’s enough!” a feminine voice cried out from the crowd that was forming around them as Caden laid there on the ground, unable to do anything but whimper and cry against the pressure being put onto his sixteen-year-old bones. He recognised his mother’s voice in an instant and spotted her slim, dark-toned figure race out of the front line of the audience and storm towards Andreas, scaring him into stepping back a few steps at the furious look on her face.
“Zora, you did hear what he is, didn’t you?” he asked in a snarl. His golden eyes turned hard at seeing his wife stick up for their freak of a son, and yet Caden could only feel grateful.
She just placed her paws, soft with long digits for her habit of piano playing, on her hips and gave her husband an irritated look. Her silks gave off a small whisper as they moved. “Yes, but he’s still our little boy, Andre.”
“He’s a monster! Our little boy isn’t there! He died nine years ago, when he told me he liked his own gender.”
“How could you say that about him?”
“Because it’s wrong.”
“How is it wrong, Andreas?” she asked him in a growl that made both him and Caden, who had just begun to move his terror-stiffened body from the lake-dampened floor, jump in their skin. That was the kind of growl Zora had; one that could make even the largest, toughest of dragon males scamper away from her in fear. It was like a tiger letting others know she was about to go in for the kill, or a dog before he starts barking at a stranger. It was terrifying at the same time as melodic. “How is loving someone – anyone at all – wrong?”
His mother didn’t have time to react before she was shoved away from her husband, a shrivelled old hag draped in crimson and golden silks taking her place before his father. Carlai. “Have you forgotten your place, Zora Naidu?”
“No, Messenger,” she snapped, dusting herself off. “I just don’t appreciate my son being called a freak just because he loves his own gender!”
“Back down, girl. This isn’t your fight.”
“I’m fighting for my son!”
The Messenger, who’s meant to be the calmest among them all, turned pink in her paste-white cheeks and thrust an accusing digit forward at his mother. “Then you shall join him!”
“Carlai,” Andreas piped up. He wanted to play peacekeeper, it seemed, now that his wife was involved. “That isn’t necessary.”
“It wouldn’t be if you had kept your wife in check, Andreas Naidu,” Carlai growled before removing herself from his path and sauntering over to the shaking Imperial child on the floor. The closer she got, the more the wrinkles around her ice-blue eyes appeared more vivid and the more the anger in her small, hunched figure could be felt as if it was trickling from her in rivers of fiery orange.
Zora stepped before him as he cowered into a ball, waiting for a fierce blow to the stomach or head but instead hearing his mother’s still-soft voice, even with all of the fury she felt towards her leader and husband. “Don’t you dare touch my son,” she muttered low enough for only Carlai and Caden to hear, her voice like poison as it fell upon his ears.
The Messenger just snorted. “Get the ship ready!” she said to any sailor who could hear her, for they knew what ship she was on about. “These two are leaving with their disgusting ways and acceptance.”
The last thing the teenager saw before being knocked out was his mother fighting bravely against the gripping paws of Talaij’s messenger, cursing their name and all that may follow her.
--- 2 ---
Another snap, another scream of pain. It was like a game to them, and Caden wouldn’t put it past them to think of it as such, even whilst he was writhing in agony on the floor from his wings, still not fully developed, shattering under the paws of Andi, who was snarling at him constantly to be quiet as his mother balled for them to stop inside their cell.
It’d been mere hours since the pair of them left the docks of Talaij to be sent to Sornieth and dumped there like waste, and already Caden wanted to curl up into a ball and wait for that day to come; the day where he and his mother could leave the ship behind and start a new life… somewhere.
That was what gave him hope in this time of unending suffering. A new life, a new home; a place where no one knew them, where they could be themselves without having to pretend anymore.
What was the word to describe that? Oh yes… freedom. The word felt untouched in the back of his mind as another snap sounded out in the air and another sharp pain clenched his heart into beating faster, and that’s because it was. For nine years, all he’d been was a slave, but not a slave. Someone his father could use as a punching bag one minute and an emotional needle-holder the next. Sometimes the teenager wondered whether or not his father ever actually loved him, but that wasn’t fair. He used to. Just not anymore.
The little boy he loved was dead.
“Please stop this, Andi!” his mother screamed again, sobbing into the wooden door that separated them. “He’s only a boy!”
“He deserves it,” his ex-boyfriend growled back at her, crunching the thin bone in the top of his wing under a fist of steel. He cried out again and could feel a few tears escape their threshold.
“Please stop,” he whimpered uselessly from his place on the floor of the ship. He tried to think about the stuffed animal he’d brought on board with him, his one connection to a life that wasn’t filled with pain, but all he could think of now was how much agony he was feeling in his slumping, scarring wings of shimmering gold. “Please…”
“Shut it.” Another crunch, another escaped scream followed by a soft, half-stifled sob.
“That’s enough, Andi.”
Caden turned his teary gaze from the wooden floor below them, away from counting the cracks in the wooden planks and the numerous different shades of brown in just one small radius, to see his father standing over him with a look of disgust on his whitened features. He was wearing an ominous cloak over the soft, clean clothes he usually flaunted off to everyone, almost as if he didn’t want his son’s poisoned gaze falling upon them.
“Andre, please,” Zora begged from their cell. “Please don’t hurt him anymore! You’ve done enough damage.”
He just continued to look down at him with a glint in his shattered golden gaze, but wait… Was it a glint of sympathy? Caden couldn’t bring himself to continue looking. He hates me, why would he feel sympathy…
“Andreas!”
“All right, woman,” he growled, bringing a key from his belt and shoving it into the lock of the cell door. He had a foot against Caden’s abdomen as he did it. He’s going to kick me inside.
“Don’t you dare kick him.”
The pressure against his abdomen increased as the lock clicked and the door started to squeak open. “He can barely move, and I’m not touching him.”
Zora snarled at him and, suddenly, the pressure was gone. He turned his scarlet eyes to a retreating male half a head taller than his wife, the glint in his eyes replaced by a glassy cover of fear. Even the key shook slightly in his grasp before he lowered his paw under his cloak and fixed his merciless stare upon his suffering child. “Fine, you’ve got ten seconds to move him inside.”
It only took five and he was inside the cell, having collapsed into his mother’s arm as soon as they entered the room after dealing with unimaginable amounts of pain from carrying a pair of broken wings, and the door clicked shut behind them.
As he was being cradled in Zora’s arms, his whole body shaking from pain and terror, he noticed how dark the room was through his tear-stricken stare. How the torches in here were barely alight, giving off little to no light whatsoever; how the stone slab of a bed looked almost identical to the dark wood wall behind his mother; how the one little window in here was too high to see out of, even if he stood on the bed – if you could call it that. The thought of them having to call it a bed for the next few days was more comforting than the pain sliding through his nerves and pushing tears out onto his bruised cheeks, which was reminding him that he was still alive and had survived that onslaught.
“It’s okay, baby boy,” he heard her coo against his hair, holding him against her with one paw and brushing the other through his golden mane as he cried. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
“Why does Dad hate me so much, Mum?” he sobbed, burying his head into the silks she’d left the island with. He already knew the answer, but he was hoping he was wrong.
He got a different response instead. “Don’t call him that.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t call him your dad, sweetie,” she murmured low in his ear as she continued to rake her orange-black paw through his matted hair. “He may be your biological father, but he was never your dad. He never loved you, and if I’d have noticed that sooner…” Her sentence cut off into a small sob of her own. “I should’ve left him when I had the chance, and now look what I’ve helped do to you.”
Hurt clenched at his heart at the sound of his mother breaking under everything that had happened. “Don’t cry, Mum,” he told her softly, “you didn’t know, and you know I don’t like seeing you cry.”
Caden felt a paw gently grip his chin and push it so that he looked directly into Zora’s glassy, shining gold eyes. Instead of being the hard eyes of his father that were void of any love or emotion for him, his mother’s held all of that love and all of the care that he wanted in his father, and more. She was even smiling down at him, despite their situation, and that, too, was filled with genuine care for her child.
“How could anyone hate you,” she whimpered as she pulled him back into her warming embrace with a kiss on his forehead. She chuckled soon after. “No matter. Where we’re going, no one will hate us.”
“Promise?” He sounded like a child, he needed to be strong, but right now, in his mother’s cuddling arms, he let his tough, often emotionless exterior fall, his true sixteen-year-old character showing through.
“I promise, baby boy. No matter how long it takes, we’ll find somewhere where we can be who we want to be, and where you can love whoever you want to.”
*
Groaning, Caden got up the next morning, his hair mussed and his paw still clutching his bear – now named Darien after waking up last night and deciding on a name for him whilst his mother slept. His fur was soft, and the cold plastic of his coal-black nose was pressed into a tear in his shawl, helping to slowly bring him round and wake him up.
He glanced down at the still body of his mother from where he was kneeling beside her with her golden strips of silk clinging to her body and her face looking more relaxed than anything he’d ever seen back in Talaij. Only one more day until we get to Sornieth, he thought happily before he placed a paw on Zora’s shoulder and shook it gently.
“Mum, it’s time to wake up,” he yawned, innocent to how cold his mother felt under his soft grip.
Nothing answered.
He groaned and shook her slightly harder. “Mum, get up.”
Still nothing... she didn’t even groan or shuffle away from him to savour a few more seconds of sleep. She was still.
“Mum?” He chuckled to himself in a nervous fashion. “Come on, this isn’t funny. Mum...?”
Zora still didn’t move. That’s when he realised that no puffs of warmth left her slightly parted mouth, and how her eyes were still underneath her eyelids.
Fear and worry raced into his blood. “MUM?” he cried, shaking her as hard as he could in the hopes that she was just playing with him.
She wasn’t, for she still didn’t move. Not even her chest was moving, and Caden noticed how she felt like ice under his touch. NO!
“MUM, GET UP! PLEASE!MUM!”
In spite of his best efforts, she continued to lie there.
“MUM, PLEASE!” the teenager begged the stiff body that, only the night before, had cradled him when he needed it most, after so long of having nothing like that from Andreas. “YOU PROMISED WE’D FIND A NEW LIFE! YOU PROMISED ME!”
A roar from outside answered his pleas and he jumped, falling from the bed with a scream and onto the hardwood floor a few inches below it, Darien following soon after and landing on top of one of his broken wings, which were sprawled out on either side of him, with a soft thud.
As soon as Caden got his bearings after falling those few inches between the hard-as-stone bed he’d slept on and had gathered his bear up into his arms, he wept; wept for the promise that wouldn’t come true; wept for the loss of the one parent who cared about him; wept with the loneliness that now seeped into every part of his soul. “Mum,” he whispered, his voice choked and muffled by Darien’s fur. “P-please don’t leave me alone, Mummy... Please. I don’t—” He tried to stifle a sob, but it came out anyway, strangled and filled with pain. “I-I don’t want to be alone. P-please don’t leave me...”
No matter how much he cried his mother’s name from where he was on the floor – sometimes calling her “Mum”, others “Mother” and even going so far as to call her “Zora” – and pleaded the heavens above to give her back to him, she just continued to lay there for the hour – or hours, he couldn’t tell – in which he sobbed. Nothing other than her silks moved, and no other voices could be heard other than those of the gulls and the dragons on deck. Not even Andreas or Andi were nearby to shout at him to stop, which was a small relief in the new predicament he was in.
Eventually, after the Deity knows how long, Caden tucked himself into the corner of the cell and cuddled Darien close to his chest for he was now the only comfort he had left on this voyage. The teenager tried to focus on his sheep-white fur, on the patch that was sewn on underneath his right eye, and how he lost the brown button that went on Darien’s left eye when he was eight after taking him outside and getting him caught in a tree, so, instead of going to look for it, he’d haphazardly sewn a spare green button in its place.
It was different from the brown one – it was more colourful, with shots of jade in front of the pistachio that stood out in the background and small specks of gold mixed in there, too. The brown one was just a solid colour, and it was circular, too, whereas the left one was square and tilted slightly to the right, almost as if it was pointing towards Darien’s ice-cold nose.
He remembered how Zora had come home from a fair once and saw the bear at the foot of the stairs with a tear in his back before looking up and seeing her son, eleven at the time, stood just above it, crying because Andreas had called it “diseased” and torn a hole in it before throwing it down the stairs and losing some of the stuffing. Caden remembered how she’d taken him into his arms and taken both him and Darien upstairs to get him fixed, finding some cotton to put in the hole as replacement for the lost stuffing and sewing it back together, even adding a patch over where the hole had just been repaired to make him look nicer, before handing Caden his bear back and telling him to be more careful with him.
After that, Andreas had never touched Darien again, and he hoped that it would be the same case for him as the teenager proceeded to settle himself in the isolated corner of the room, his mother’s husk still on the top of the bed, and go back to sleep with the slight hop that this was all just some weird dream and that, in the end, he’d wake up and be by his mother’s side, her smile bright and eyes lit up with affection for her son.
--- 3 ---
Caden’s ex was stood over him, almost like the Town Hall back in Talaij towered over every other building on the island, and he looked just as menacing, with the light shining on the back of him and the speckles of blood from the deep gashes that dribbled blood down the teenager’s arm making him give off a murderous vibe. Even his robes looked evil, with the cuffs torn from Caden attempting to escape.
Of course, it didn’t work, and he’d spent the last hour having his arm whipped, the steel of the tip sending stings of excruciating pain through his arm.
“At least you’re not sobbing,” Andi growled, kneeling down next to him in a single swift movement.
“You’re not worth the tears,” he snapped back. He couldn’t move from where he was on the floor, could barely even breathe with his abuser so close to him, but he wasn’t about to admit that, nor the fact that he was on the verge of the very action Andi sneered at.
His left arm was gripped and pressed against the floor, with his ex leaning over him so Caden got the full effect of his snarl. “You little—”
“That’s enough, Andi. Don’t waste your energy on him.”
Both of the boys looked over towards the entrance of the cell to see Andreas stood there, arms crossed and wings fluffing up with the rage of having to be anywhere near his disgrace of a child. He was still in the same midnight cloak he’d been in for the last two days, and it’d started to accumulate stains and tears in the sleeves and cuffs, as well as his hair, often brushed to a shine, now looking like a tangled mess of golden.
“Sorry, sir,” he murmured as he stood up and moved over to Andreas’s side. He was stopped.
“Go pick him up.”
He looked physically repulsed by the order. “Gross, I’m not going to touch him—!”
“Andi, do it, please. We’ve arrived and we need to get him off this ship before he infects anything else.”
“Yes sir.”
At the command from someone of higher power than himself, his ex moved begrudgingly over to him and dragged him up by his injured arm, causing him to cry out in pain before being shoved forward and out of the now-empty doorway, staggering past his father in the process. He looked revolted to be anywhere close to him.
“Move it, boy,” he hissed. He sounded almost like a snake you’d find in Talaij that thrived in the autumn and was near non-existent in the spring. “Your new family is here to pick you up.”
“N-new family?” Caden asked with a crack in his voice.
Andi came up behind him and shoved him forward with a snicker. “You could call them that.”
Tears sprang to his scarlet-coloured eyes. They’re selling me off. “No, please—”
“You might want to start moving, boy.” His father was slowly but surely losing his patience.
“Please don’t do this—”
“Get. Moving.”
“Dad—”
“I’M NOT YOUR FATHER, YOU DISGUSTING DISGRACE!” Andreas screamed at him. It made the tears already swimming in his eyes fall. “GET MOVING BEFORE YOU BECOME TOO BROKEN TO BE WORTH ANYTHING TO THEM!”
As much as Caden didn’t want to, he knew he had to, so instead of back-chatting and screaming profanities, he just walked, though not in complete silence. He mumbled to himself along the way, telling his terrified self that he’ll be okay and that these new dragons won’t hurt him, but even so, he didn’t believe the words that rolled off his tongue with no effort at all.
They passed cells upon cells of slaves as they trudged towards the deck, all of them moaning for food and crying at being taken against their will. One or two of them even tried to grab at him through the bars on the door. They were merely slapped away.
As he got shoved up the stairs towards the deck of the ship, he wondered what they’d looked like. Is one of them a veteran, a lord, or some rich landowner? Is the other the same, or different? Are they kind? Are they venomous? Are they snobby or giving? Do they have other slaves? Are they buying him to give him a life?
He snorted at the last one. Buying me to give me a life? Caden snarled at himself. What kind of fantasy world am I living in where dragons actually do that?
The three of them got to the deck sooner than he liked and the sunlight immediately blinded him after three days of being consoled in the darkness of a cell at the bottom of the ship. Sails made of large, crisp white sheets were being tied by an average of four sailors to each sail, and the three masts standing tall and proud in the centre of the deck were reaching towards the clouds above, the centre mast even scratching through their cotton-like features and revealing a clear sky of lapis-blue above, which brought a heavy weight down on the Imperial’s shoulders.
Will I ever be able to get up there again to see the sky?
He hadn’t realised he’d been gazing up at the eternal world above until he felt someone shove him just between his shoulder blades and send him sprawling into the railing of the deck. “Move it, they’re done there waiting.”
Caden sneaked a quick glance over at the pair of dragons waiting for him and immediately felt afraid. The male was a midnight blue with runes the same colour as the lake back in Talaij, and he looked about half a head taller than himself with an entrancing kind of blue for eyes. They looked deep, like an ocean with no bottom, and they were glazed with some kind of emotion that he wasn’t letting the rest of his face show.
The female, on the other hand, was hooded, her face invisible to the outside world. She had a lilac tone with swirls of white drifting along her body, but the rest of the details were unknown as candles and tarot cards floated menacingly around her wings and in front of her face. A witch, maybe?
“Move it!” Andi yelled, pointing a digit towards the access plank that was dropped onto the pier below.
Caden did as he was told, though instead of being left alone, he was kicked at the last second and topped to the ground in a heap of gold and brown. He could hear snickering behind him before a tinkle of treasure sounded out and silenced them. Words were exchanged, but he didn’t know the language of this land, so he could only guess that the male that was talking was thanking them before the tinkling drifted from paw to paw and the board behind his kneeling body was raised.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked him from in front of him.
He didn’t answer.
“Caden is it?” it asked again and he looked up to see the female looking down upon him with sad, ice-coloured eyes. She’s definitely a witch if she knows Talaijan but hasn’t lived there was his conclusion to his small hint of inquisition.
He nodded as he began chewing his lip to stop himself from crying at the loss of everything he knew, including his stuffed bear. I wonder what they’ll do to him. Probably burn him.
“Are you okay, Caden?”
A shake of his head and the female was crouching down before him, keys in hand for his cuffs, yet he didn’t feel relieved. If anything, he swore he could feel a couple of tears escape from their threshold. “Please don’t hurt me,” he whispered, his stare shifting between the Skydancer and the keys of obsidian-black metal.
She looked taken aback, or even hurt. “Why would we hurt you?”
“B-because everyone else has, a-and—” A strangled sob shot through the air around him without him realising and he couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. “Please don’t hurt me... please.”
“We’re not going to hurt you,” she cooed in a gentle voice before she cupped his face in her hands and wiped away the tears as he sniffed and sniffled. “I know they did nasty things to you, but we’re not going to hurt you... okay?”
“B-but you know Talaijan. Surely they gave you orders—?”
“I know Talaijan, yes, but I don’t associate myself with that island. It’s a horrible place to be, and besides, they shut themselves off just over a hundred years ago. They don’t do outsiders.”
“So how do you—?”
“I’ll explain another time, but for now, Caden, can I unlock your cuffs?” She asked it in a soft voice, lowering her hood to reveal a gentle smile that, instead of calming him, only scared him further. “Is that okay with you?”
Another shake of his head with the thought of She has to be a witch racing through his tired, terrified mind.
“What about if Reece did it, would that be okay?”
“Who’s Reece?”
“The Imperial stood behind me.” She gestured behind her and he crouched down too, his eyes that looked hard and cold revealing a soft centre to him. Caden felt himself relax slightly at the look of him, and immediately felt confused. Why? “He looks evil, but he’s really just a sweetheart. Would you let him do it?”
It took a few seconds for the teenager to register the question as he was too busy staring into the ocean of dark blue sitting in Reece’s eyes. They were lined, but not with age – more like with memories and fun times and hope, and they definitely made him look more soft-hearted than evil down to the calming mix of cyan and greens and almost-black blues in his iris. He had to shake his head to get himself out of the dazed trance.
“You don’t want Reece to do it?” the Skydancer asked him, looking slightly concerned.
“Huh?”
“Oh, you didn’t hear my question?”
“N-no, madam.”
She just chuckled softly and gave the keys to this Reece guy before gently patting his cheek. “He’ll undo your cuffs, okay?”
“Okay...”
She wandered off after that, heading towards a cosy cottage-like building towards the end of the port as Reece sat himself down on the ground and reached behind the shaking Imperial, who suddenly gave him the overwhelming urge to curl up against the other Imperial and start using him for comfort after everything that’d just happened over the last three days. He couldn’t understand why, but the thought of it felt... welcoming, and it even stilled his tears for a very short period of time.
A click sounded behind him and he brought his paws before him, rubbing at the raw marks on his wrists thanks to the itching steel of the cuffs. The colour of them almost suited the blood that continued to dribble down his arm and stain the wood and fabric below it. Caden watched with the desperate need of distraction as it splashed against the darkened planks of wood and ran through the cracks and gaps between each one, staining the sand below it ruby red. With each new drop, the stain grew, and so did his fascination until a soft paw touched his shoulder and snapped him out of it.
His gaze shot up towards Reece and the other Imperial forced his paw back with an apologetic look on his face. Caden just gave him a quick, upset smile before staring back at the ground... or he would’ve done, if the Midnight dragon hadn’t grabbed hold of his opposite shoulder and turned him into a – what’s the word? Oh yes – a hug. It surprised him, and a surge of panic overcame him, but it lasted a mere few seconds before his emotions took over and he returned the gesture, his head pressing itself into the fabric of Reece’s shirt and tears rolling out of his scarlet eyes in, what began with, a steady river before they turned into a waterfall that was seemingly impossible to stop. The first time I cry in the last two days, he realised, is in the arms of a stranger. That says something.
They stayed there, in that very position, for the Deity knows how long, until his embracer’s voice rang out in the almost-silence of the world around them, making Caden turned his head out of pressing it against his shoulder and gazed up with blurred vision to see a light purple splodge holding a smaller white one. Is that...?
“Is this yours, Caden?” the Skydancer who’d wandered off just a few minutes ago asked calmly, handing the ball of white to him to look at. After a couple of blinks, more tears escaping in the process, he saw Darien staring back at him. Relief shoved its way in between the fear of a new place and the worry about being vulnerable around a stranger, settling there as he hugged the bear and murmured a soft “thank you” towards the dragoness.
She sighed. “No problem, my boy.”
“What’s your name?” he stammered. He hoped it wasn’t mumbled as he went back to being curled against the other dragon.
“I’m Aria.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
Aria beamed down at him from where she was stood. “Thank you! You’ve got a pretty name, too.”
Caden frowned. “I don’t think I do.”
“I think you do, and—” Reece and Aria exchanged a question before the Imperial nodded and went back to hugging the teenager, comforting him and relaxing him further. “—Reece thinks you do, too. He said it’s a lot better than dragons and dragonesses mistaking your name pronunciation for Rice instead of Reece.”
“Why would they do that?”
“It’s because Reece’s name is spelt R-H-Y-S instead of the usual spelling of R-E-E-C-E.”
He giggled at that and the urge to go back to crying vanished. “That’s a funny spelling.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Just as he went to open his mouth to ask why his name was spelt that way, Rhys spoke, and when Caden glanced at him, he had a look of concern that creased his face slightly and made the lines surrounding his ocean-deep eyes become more vivid. He caught him staring a second later, though, and it was gone in an instant, replaced by a soft, caring smile – one that only his mother had given him over the years. It made his heart sink into the pit of his stomach.
“Rhys was wondering if you want to be carried to your new home,” Aria said, catching his attention. “He said we can get you a nice home sorted and that we can get you some nice clothes to put on and even cook you something. Would you like that?”
His fear grew slightly. “Maybe... I don’t want to be dropped, though.”
Caden’s new female companion snorted. “Oh, my dear, he won’t drop you. He wouldn’t offer to carry you if there was a chance of that.”
“So he’s not going to drop me?”
“No, Caden, he’s not.”
Rhys spoke up, his voice questioning, and Aria returned a simple answer that made him sigh softly before he rubbed his shoulder and murmured something into his ear, and it didn’t matter what words he spilled out upon them, for it did the job of vanquishing his fear completely.
“So, what do you say?”
Caden looked up at Aria with confidence as he told her his answer. Well, more like asked his answer. “Can we please go to my new home now?”
--- 4 ---
You really are useless, you know.
[PART 4 IS UNFINISHED, obviously]
Any opinions on this would be appreciated!
 
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