Draguno: Legacy.
Chapter one: Uncovering old nightmares.
Isaac grunted as he reached up and batted the ball out of the air. He had been playing for around half an hour now, and his legs were aching him towards the urge to sit down.
Isaac is a 14-year-old male inhabitant of a village named Vadico. He lives alone in an old, ragged wooden house near a large bushel of forests. He tends to wear a black tunic, sleeved and lightweight, and dark blue trousers. He, along with the heavy majority of his village, has a moderate British accent, yet a fairly modern Western lifestyle. Living in a world parallel to our very own London, England, he leads what he believed to be a meaningless existence that never seems as if it has any real end.
He ran his hand through his messy brown hair as the ball left his general area, sighing with discontent. His only luxurious times were playing baskets and hunting, or occasionally reading, although he had trouble doing so thanks to his education-less community. He began to daydream, but such a luxury was cut short by the swiftly approaching ball. He instinctively batted at it with his hand, sending it away with such force that one child, afraid of being decapitated, dove out of the ball's path. It wasn't until he heard the sharp audio of shattering glass that Isaac realized he had made a grave mistake. He craned his neck to see, to his horrification, that it had been a window belonging to the most infamously creepy estates of the village.
Draguno Manor.
Isaac swallowed bile as he and four other children from the block stared blankly at the building, which was illuminated with a brilliantly demented glow from the sunlight creeping up to it's rear. The old house had always been a popular place for speculation and cheesy horror stories, but it suddenly seemed more serious than he had thought. Previously. As he glared at the house, a kid next to Isaac knocked him on the shoulder. He turned to see the smirking face of Lewis William, who motioned to the building with his hand.
"Come on then, you lost the thing, now get it back." Isaac sighed, looking back at the house. He didn't want to venture into the building, but he didn't have much of a choice at the moment. Moving to the side and picking his bow and quiver off of the old, collapsing bench, he slowly moved towards the building.
The floorboards creaked violently as Isaac touched down from the window, and a dusty, haunting aroma drifting about the dilapidated house forced the hair on Isaac's neck to rise. He knew that the ball couldn't be far off, but he still found himself reluctant to go on. Nonetheless, he regained his bearings and took a few drawn-out, creaking steps into the building, unaware of his own decisions changing what would become a strange dream of life for him.
"Where the bloody hell could it be?"
Isaac took a deep breath, looking around the room he was currently in once more. He had scavenged the entire damn house- every room, from a rusty, waterless bathroom, to an empty, rotting study, and every place, from cabinets to closets, from the toilet bowl to the coffee table, despite the stupidity that would have been reality if the ball had managed to get itself into a closet or drawer, not to mention close it behind itself. Isaac sighed, looking back at the front door. It was getting darker outside.
"Time to go, methinks. The guys've likely been shooed off by now…"Yet, as Isaac stepped wearily towards the entrance, he heard a loud, frightening creak- and the floor beneath his feet gave way to darkness, sending him into a fall and forcing him out of consciousness before he could let out more than a gasp of fear and surprise.
Isaac felt a painful mixture of numbness spread throughout his entire body and confusion as the world reincarnated itself in his vision, the faded white giving way for the stained brown of the new floorboards and the peachy skin colour of his arm shielding his face from a light pouring into the room, a reflex of his own. He did a mental body check, but everything was in order- he could faintly move all of his limbs and neck, so he decided to attempt standing. He had severe trouble identifying the blurred objects around the room, so he closed his eyes and placed his hand over his forehead.
"Where..? Why did the floor have to give away at such a stupid moment?"
After a moment or so of thought, he parted his fingers to take in the details of his surroundings. He found himself in a destroyed, yet well-kept and polished in comparison to the room he had been in only a few conscious seconds beforehand- storeroom. The storeroom, however, was filled with costumes and toys- child's play. He let his eyes wander the room, taking in the odd, surreal and haunting sights of broken and rusted toys, probably dating back to at least 700 years ago, perhaps in the Hundreds year-wise, perhaps 450 A.D. or something along those lines. The eerie sights gave Isaac a severe chill, and he placed his arms on his opposite forearms, shivering massively. As he was about to turn on his heel and leave, something caught his eye.
A small chest, sitting in the middle of the floor, caught his attention.
The chest was covered in jewels and gems, a golden trim and silver plating. Isaac knew he was not looking at a toy chest, but at something important. And, despite his wanting to turn away and ignore it, which may have been a more intelligent thing to do, he slowly raised a leg and took a step towards it…
Isaac blinked wildly. The chest was locked, and his pull upward on the leather hinge, which was effortless, brought him back to reality. He was infinitely amazed by the designs embroidered across the chest, the priceless gems welded to the plating. He ran his fingers over the metal, but retaliated back with a scowl. In comparison to the leather hinge, the steel was hotter than hell!
"How could something sitting in a basement like this…" Isaac muttered to himself thoughtfully "Be so Goddamn hot?"
Raising an eyebrow, he leaned forward, examining the fine detail on the design. It had what appeared to be birds, fashioned out of gold, circling each other on the front, sides, and top, facing around in a counter clockwise position. He slowly reached into his pocket and carried out with his hand a small, sharp object.
"Well, then…" Isaac muttered, twiddling the pin in his fingers, "Doubtful that like anyone's going to be coming to get it, methinks. I'll just have a look…"
Therefore, taking a quick breath, Isaac leaned onto one knee and placed the pin into the small keyhole.
Click!Isaac grinned like a jester, taking the pin out of the lock and replacing it in his pocket. Why had the lock been so easy to open? He just guessed his luck was in line today. Flicking his fingers in thought, he gripped the chest's blazing hot hinge and creaked it open at a moderate speed.
Isaac gaped at what he saw.
The large emerald was sitting amid a red, royal-looking pillow. It had strange, unidentifiable designs all over its outer layer, all of them sleek and shining. He smiled idiotically at the gemstone's royal sheen, it's brilliant craftsmanship- this one stone would be able to feed his through trades for more than a year, without a doubt!
Of course, he was getting too excited too quickly. He would still have to find a way out of the basement, and find someone willing to trade for something he'd found in Draguno Manor, but still. He was thrilled!
Isaac reached into the casket, and wasn't the least bit surprised when the stone was also extremely hot. He took a breath, and then quickly grabbed he stone, scowling at the pain, and placed it into his pack, shaking his hands off as he felt the surprising weight of the rock in his bag.
"The stone is scorching too. I wonder…"
Letting go of the thought, Isaac stood in silence for a moment, although he never became sure exactly why. Perhaps, as he suggested to himself later on in his life, it was his life catching up with him, although he really brought that up to himself as a joke. Naturally, however, the next few occurrences almost supported that theory…
As Isaac broke out of his own little la-la land, he heard a noise behind him. He raised an eyebrow, slowly beginning to turn. He didn't exactly come face-to-face with anything more than a hauntingly empty corner. Isaac swallowed, trying to speak.
"Who's there?" He stated quizzically, sounding braver than he thought. Nothing happened.
Just when he thought that it was safe to begin breathing normally, however, something swung into view- millimetres away from his face. He couldn't make out what it was- it was something that he couldn't comprehend as of yet, so all he saw was a strange, black blob. That was enough to scare him, though- he screamed loudly, tumbling backwards and into the chest, which somehow was no longer a chest but a doorway, although to what Isaac did not know, and before he could think of anything that had happened and react he blacked out yet again.
Isaac felt strange.
He felt as if he were conscious, but not in complete control. He could feel- his lips chapped, his arm shifting- but had no clue where he was or how he had gotten there. After all, someone who can't open his eyes isn't very likely to see much. When he did manage to creak his eyes open, an insane wave of heat washed suddenly over his entire body, causing him to yelp and flinch backwards, his eyes wide. He found himself sitting on concrete, with his head aching- and a ring of fire surrounding him. He froze, confused.
"What the grave? Where am I? This doesn't look like Vadico…"
He slowly- but- surely pushed himself upwards, wobbling uncomfortably. His eyes wandered for a moment, completely surrounded by the incandescent flames- except for a brief opening in the ring. He had no clue where he was or what he was supposed to do, but he began to walk towards the exit, unblinking, doing his best to remain deaf and blind to the world around him…
Isaac was raised in the sort of society that believed that any place you didn't recognize should be properly identified and understood before you questioned anything. He planned on finding the closest locals and asking them where he was and, perhaps, if they might know how he got there. As far as he knew, he had fallen into a chest and woken up in the middle of a fire. He smirked at the randomness of that thought. What kind of a connection was that?
Of course, his first plan was to swap this majestic stone he had uncovered for food. He was starving beyond comparison…
However, as Isaac looked up, he saw a surreal sight and froze. His eyes slowly glazed over, and he raised an eyebrow heavily. The sun and clouds were moving at a ridiculous pace, skipping past an entire day! Isaac stared, stumbling backwards and landing on his back.
"What the flying farce just happened? This has to be a dream…"
Yet, it was not. Suddenly, almost strangely, the time skip stopped, and Isaac found himself in darkness, lit with but what shined off of the moon's surface. He refocused on himself to find a kid taken aback by the strangest and stupidest thing he had seen in his life, and straightened out, swallowing a lump in his throat.
"Well" He croaked, listening to an old tradition and ignoring the oddity that he supposed was a hallucination. "I guess I should get some sleep, then?"
Despite his utter confusion, Isaac had learnt to keep an open mind. Perhaps it was just the strange way the sun moves in this odd place? He didn't know, and as he sat by the large oak, unable to sleep although drifty-eyed, he pondered where he was and how the blaze he was going to return to Vadico.
A cracking noise aroused Isaac from his unusual dreams.
Allowing his eyes to open sluggishly, he found himself glaring ahead at an outstretched road, cobblestone. He was surprised that the odd place he had found himself in previously was a reality and to find himself waking up to it, but this was not what truly caught Isaac in a net of confusion.
Where was the cracking coming from?
Sitting up, our protagonist couldn't think straight for a minute, still disturbed by the haziness of a restless mind. Yet when he refocused himself, he saw only the stone, which he had plundered from the household.
The stone…
Isaac's eyes widened as he watched the object he had identified as a valuable rock twitch, and develop a tiny crack at a horizontal angle. He was confused; was it really a gem? How had it gotten out of his sack? And, as the object's flaw expanded furthermore around itself, Isaac glared at the thing, which he now discovered was not a gem, but an egg. And as the egg cracked open, revealing something that he could identify, yet not believe, Isaac took his first step towards understanding what he had involved himself in.
Isaac could feel his mind racing for the most realistic explanation to what had happened in front of his own eyes, but could only settle back onto a surreal answer that his own eyes couldn't deny. The creature that sat before him, slithering out of it's discarded home, donned emerald green scales, a dramatic comparison to the dark environs they sat in. It's eyes were still clamped shut from apparent birth, it's brow ruffled in mild question. The horns it donned atop it's head were small and backwards-facing, like an irritated cat's ears. It had four paws, each with three talons, which didn't seem to be able to contract. They were slightly longer and larger than that of a feline. It had a long, serpentine tail that dragged behind its path out of the shell with a smooth hshhhhhh; it's emerald spines glinting in the thick moonlight. Isaac couldn't possibly comprehend what he thought of first as a salamander as he was, but this did not matter, for he didn't have to do so.
His consciousness built the word onto the tip of his tongue, leaving him only to spit it out.
"What the hell is going on here?" He muted to himself, still trying to work up the honesty to get himself to believe that he was actually looking at a-
Isaac muttered the word unconsciously, and suddenly realized that he wasn't dreaming. He really was sitting there, in the centre of a cobblestone path, in the moonlight. He really had picked up an egg from that chest, and he really did have to deal with the responsibility of believing that this thing existed now. He understood, against his own will, that he really was looking at the creation that he had believed to belong only in fairy tales of infantile children, the imaginations of the deluded.
He was glaring directly at a-
"…A dragon."
And as Isaac muttered those words, he settled into his new belief in all that he once thought to be works of the imagination.
"Well, it's official now. I've gone insane."
Isaac stated absently as the reptilian myth before him did it's best to straighten out. Creating a mild sigh, the dragon shook itself off in a way lupine enough to make Isaac laugh, despite now being splattered in what appeared to be yolk. Wiping his shirt with his forearm, he stifled his eyebrows as the odd being in front of his opened it's eyes for the first time.
Isaac had a few problems stifling a gasp.
The dragon's eyes were slightly feline, with a few unique traits, and a slightly lighter emerald compared to its scales. They remained static for the majority of a moment before spinning confusedly from one direction to the other, then finally on Isaac's form. He froze, glaring back warily at the creature. His hand rested lightly on his leg-sheathed knife, which he had a terrible feeling he would have to use- in the majority of the t ales woven by the storytellers of old, dragons were considered to be predators to the degree of bloodthirsty killers. Realizing this, Isaac's awe dissipated, replaced in it's stead by fear and a temptation to get to his legs and flee, but he didn't. He simply sat there uselessly, frozen, still leaving hints of a non-believer. Yet, as he sat there, vulnerable to no end, the creature before him did not do anything in particular. Well, it did.
It cocked its head to the side, and emitted an odd noise that Isaac's ears picked up as a sound akin to that of an adult cat's, and he could feel himself laugh.
"Bloody hell…" He muttered silently, looking the dragon up, then down. The creature didn't have much of a response to this besides simply continuing to stare, so that's what it did.
Then Isaac noticed the particularly bright glint resonating off of the creature's chest.
Leaning in insignificantly closer, he saw what was the cause of the glare- a leather strap seemed to be bound around the dragon's neck, noosed with a crystal-clear jewel, the size of his index finger's nail. Leaning forward to further inspect the stone, he glanced upwards at the creature's expression to make sure he wasn't to lose his head when he was caught unawares. He reached out slowly, extending his arm to touch the small gemstone. Yet as he did, he felt a sudden volatile shock in his fingertip, causing him to jump backwards in surprise. He glared at his hand, but there were no signs of burns.
"What the hell…?"
As Isaac mouthed these words, he felt a strange feeling wave over his eyes, and instantly found himself in darkness, suddenly somewhere completely different than the one he was previously occupying. Surprised and confused, he bolted his head around, surveying his surroundings.
"Wonderful," He muttered with a sigh, blowing his bangs across his face as he did so. "Where in blaze am I now?"
As if the question mark dotted on the end of his self-quiz, the room was suddenly bathed in a sharp light, and Isaac reflexively shielded his eyes with his forearm.
From what he could gather, Isaac was in a small, white room with no doors, windows, or other appliances. Actually, it was completely blank, white as a fresh blanket of melancholy snow. Despite this, Isaac had somehow gotten into the room, so he guessed that there had to be a way out, as well.
He was confused by all of the current events. First a dragon appears out of nowhere, then he is somehow lost in a white room with no explanation given, nor was they an exit. Had he gone completely mad?
Yet, before he could consider this yet again, he became more confused than ever before. He was suddenly somewhere else- or perhaps not. He couldn't tell, because the dozen images flashing before his vision passed too quickly to tell what was truly occurring, and with a sharp intake of his breath, Isaac fell out of consciousness for the third time in memory.
The sharp creaking of wood awoke Isaac.
He was sitting in the room he had begun his search in, back in the manor in which only the starting events had transpired.
"It was a dream, then?"His eyes ached with a sadistic dullness, and his migraines had escalated to a near-audible banging. He found himself stumbling while attempting to stand in the dim twilight of the near hours of night, slim rays of ethereal light beaming through the thrashed and ravaged drapes to his left. He felt different though. Something was wrong, even if it really was just a dream, which Isaac had guessed. Then in donned on him.
His bag was heavier than before.
His pupils dilated from the unknown, Isaac slowly dragged the sack off of his shoulders and snapped the strap open, lifting the leather flap off of the package.
He placed his forehead firmly in-between his thumb and index finger, closing his eyes.
"For the love of God, I…"
There, lying in the bag, with its slick body elevating up and down from the steady breathing pattern of sleep, was the dragon.
Apparently, it wasn't quite a dream after all.
End chapter one.
Chapter two: The secluded way of life.
Two months later…The slick sound of a quill poking at paper muted through Isaac's den.
It had been two slow months since the incident at the Manor, enough time to let Isaac settle into an air of comfort with his new form of life. First of all, he knew almost immediately that the dragon he had uncovered couldn't simply be left there, as well as that it would be one hell of a burden. He didn't mind, however- he never happened upon much else this intriguing, nonetheless. Might as well try to add some pepper to his life for once.
Also, he figured the creature had to have a namesake, so decided on calling it Ty, after his long-deceased older brother, at least until he could figure out a better name, or at least what gender "he" happened to be. No matter, he or she was Ty for now.
Isaac sighed; bringing the quill up and off of the parchment he had set upon his desk. His letter was well written compared to the useless drivel most locals could come up with, but it still hosted its fair batch of grammatical errors. Not that Teggie would notice; Isaac and his father understood each other. He did from a literary standpoint, at least.
Mumbling with barely-conscious lungs, Isaac stood up, cringing lightly at the screeching of the oak chair's legs against the hardwood floor, and pocketed the letter, making sure the address was properly written out as Nash. As he shuffled near the doorway, he heard a creak, followed by a moderate yawn. Eyes still half-shut, he craned his head and looked over at the form of Ty, apparently waking himself from a drifty night's sleep.
"Awake, now, are we?" he muttered, smiling mildly. Ty shook his head vigorously, squinting and trying his best to wake up fully in the sharp light of the morn. Returning back to his bed of hay- which is also where Ty confined himself to while he slept- Isaac ground his teeth absently looking down at Ty as the dragon stretched itself and blinked the sleep out of it's eyes before looking back up at him.
"You want to come as well, don't you?" Isaac sighed. "You know bloody well that I can't let you tail along casually, right?" Ty flicked his tail attentively, signalling his attention having been drawn. Isaac chewed his bottom lip, tasting a faint hint of blood where he bit. "Have any ideas?"
After a long, drawn-out silence, Isaac stood back to his feet and sighed, dropping his shoulders uselessly. "Didn't suppose you would. Just wait, then. I won't be long…
"Besides," he said, turning back to Ty, who was now lying on the bed in an overdramatically depressed manner. "It's not like I'm just going for an evening stroll, now is it?"
With that, he left the shack quietly.
The stench of rust was already apparent when Isaac left his den. The Shark's would be patrolling the streets already; he would have to tread lightly if he wished to get anywhere tonight.
Turning the corner slowly, Isaac's suspicions were proven to have been right on the target- three Sharks were walking the street, donning the usual rusted chieftain helmets and chainmail, swilling what appeared to be mead from iron flasks. This didn't prove a problem, nonetheless- the near-nonexistent light of the moon allowed Isaac to make a brief mad dash across the way, to the pub's alleyway, without being so much as glimpsed. After this, reaching the rooftops to gain the advantage of height was a simple matter, done by scaling the drainpipe lining the building.
Once perched on the rooftop of the tavern, Isaac squatted on the silver outlining and took a breath of the twilit air enveloping him.
"Now," he said, looking over his shoulder at the village streets. "What to do first off?"
Settling on doing the most simple of matters at first, Isaac decided on getting his fill of fowl at the butchers. He could just as easily have hunted down the meat himself, if it were not for the overabundance of Sharks patrolling the forests circulating Vadico. Because of this, theft wound up the simplest option. Not only was it the only way to get any real food without having to hand out shillings like mints, but it was perfectly fine by Maurice, the butcher, who would hand out free poultry to a villager over a Shark any day. Besides, Isaac saw no right for the Sharks to get all of the fine meat, while all others must suffice with rotting cow.
There, he was right. Although the villagers tend to have to do all the public and private work, the Sharks get their grubby hands on all of the quality and quantity while performing nothing but murder and what they call "civilian protection," which is little more than a stupidly unjust form of finding excuses to perform the murder aforementioned. The villagers haul copper while the Sharks swill mulled wine, as Isaac had always reminded himself.
Of course, not even the most simplistic of Isaac's tasks found itself to be effortless. As usual, the front entrance was practically barred by Sharks, chatting and tearing at meat to pass the night. In order to break into the butcher's through a secluded entrance, tunnelled by Maurice in order to allow easy entrance into the building on both his part, and the villagers'. Loping to the ledge nearby the rear entrance to the building, Isaac leaped down, cushioning his fall with his hands, and quickly surveyed the brick and stonewall slapped onto the rear of the shop. Relying on his recent memory, he gripped the dumpster, which was conspicuously empty as usual, and gave it a quick jerk towards him, followed swiftly by another away from his arms. The object jolted to the right, sliding along hidden indentations along the gravel, and cam to a halt roughly four inches further than usual. Where the dumpster once lay sat a latch, hidden among the brick wall, which provided a revolving door only slightly larger than Isaac himself, disguised brilliantly and flawlessly as a wall. With a mild push, Isaac swung the doorway around; making sure that the wall was completely back in its original position before turning with a sigh to face the darkness of the room.
The loose clock nailed roughly to the far east wall provided a ticking that found itself to be the only sound in the large room besides the muffled Shark's chattering from beyond the oversized, cracked window up front, giving the dark room a sinister atmosphere. Isaac had done this half a dozen or so times, though- he knew what to do. The main counter provided cover for his trip from the centre of the room to the far west, where he silently began to cram as many of the large, raw-smelling meats into his bag as it could hold. As he re-shouldered the now- weighted sack, he heard random chitchat and the jingle of the door chimes, and froze where he stood. Damn!
A Shark walked into the room, his metallic footwear clapping against the paneled floor.
"Hey! Someone in there?" He called out, his voice rough and gravelly. Isaac glanced back to the rear entrance.
Great, what now? If this shambling fool catches sight of me, I'll find myself in an early grave…
The Shark took a cautious step forward, slowly starting to round towards the corner. Hearing the footsteps, Isaac bent into a low kneel and quickly took a chain of steps closer to the rear access, being chary not to overstep and catch the Shark's attention. As he eyed his exit, Isaac heard a brief rustling, and tuned his ears in time to hear a light scrape, followed by a flickering noise and the room, much to his dismay, being illuminated by a haunting, iridescent light.
The bastard lit the candle…
Hearing the rustling of chainmail and two more wary footsteps, Isaac's heart quickened slightly. How could he hide in plain sight? He looked around quickly, and a wooden cabinet caught his eye.
Better than nothing. He thought to himself, opening the wooden door and pulling the stationary piled within it out onto the floor, letting it scatter freely.
Andreas slung his hand towards the hilt of his blade, freezing in his steps and glancing around. The shuffling he had heard brought his mind to a standstill, whispering into his own ear, warning himself not to proceed, yet remaining still despite himself.
"Identify yourself." He chimed with false audacity, taking two more steps and rounding the corner to the area behind the butcher's counter. Sliding his eyes across the area, he noticed a pile of blank stationary stacked upon the floor.
"Identify yourself now, or choose to face execution."
His breath shuddering ever so slightly at the setting in the vein of a horror tale, Andreas took another few steps toward the stacks of paper. Kneeling down, still keeping his palm rested on the hilt of his weapon, he sorted through the paper quickly with his hand, thinning out the papers. He noticed something written on one of the parchments, and picked it up to examine it. Reading it, he pronounced the words in a breath.
"To Gravette...?"
Without further warning, the cupboard next to him exploded open, cracking against his helmet and knocking him unconscious soundlessly. Isaac, regaining his breath, climbed out of the small space and sighed, looking down at the crumpled, inactive body of the Shark.
"…I'll be having that back now, thank you." He muttered, smiling lightly and starting to shed the armor from the guard.
The Shark had a much larger structure than Isaac, and was harsh as hell trying to cram him into the small cupboard. Despite this, the chain mail and helmet fit him unexpectedly well, making him look just as convincing as the Shark himself. The only real problem was the large footwear, which felt overly loose and uncomfortable, so he simply stepped the boots on over his original footwear, a pair of leather buckle boots. It worked surprisingly well, and the thin slits of eye slots wouldn't reveal his different eye color. Not in the veil of the night, at least.
Coughing quietly as to alter his voice as much as humanly possible, Isaac waved his hand over the lit candle and began to feel his eyes readjust to the rediscovered darkness.
"What happened in there?"
Isaac listened to the door chimes ringing closed behind him before making his answer.
"Nothing. I slipped on a pile of toppled papers, that's all." The guard chuckled under his helmet and turned back away, unable to hear Isaac sigh at the realization that his voice was convincing enough. The quick exchange of words was followed by an awkward silence, during which Isaac's heart started to race in his chest.
Dammit, wake up already, just wake up…After a few more minutes of random shuffling and uncomfortable shifting, Isaac heard a blunt noise from within the butchers, and smiled widely behind his helm when he saw that the other two guards had noticed it as well.
"What was that?" One of them muttered to Isaac, who shrugged heftily, too close to success to let his voice crack it now. A moment shortly, the other guard tapped him on the shoulder and nodded, and they both began sneaking into the building, slowly unsheathing their blades. Isaac tailed a slight distance behind the rear soldier, who glanced behind him to make sure of this, until he followed through the creaked door. At that moment, Isaac stealthily broke off from the two guards and turned to his left, slinking into the corner to grab his discarded bag from the countertop before rounding back through the doorway and forming a mad dash down the street, swiftly tearing off the Romanesque helmet and turning around, throwing the metal completely to the parallel side of the butchers before turning yet again and ducking into an alley, his back pressed up against a concrete wall, doing his best not to clink his armour against the solid object. And slowly regaining his breathe and expected heartbeat.
Momentarily, a few screams broke out, and the two Sharks charged out of the building, the skivvies-donning guard Isaac had stolen the chainmail from, slinging their heads from left to right. The second guard seemed to notice the discarded headpiece, and began pointing and shouting, running towards and past the helmet while the two other bumbling Sharks tailed him sluggishly. Just as Isaac had hoped, they also happened to be running in the exact opposite direction that he was dwelling in.
"Idiots." He muttered faintly, turning back to the alley and beggining to lope down its narrow, precise path.
Maguel stole towards the doorway at a snail's pace, the hardened copper pipe dwindling loosely in her palm. The knock at the door couldn't be mistaken- she knew the sound of a Shark's iron gloves against the wood of her entrance, and wasn't going to let her defenceless orphanage be ransacked by a group of two-faced bastards, playing dress-up and pretending to be the local police…
Her hand rested lightly on the rusting doorknob, her breath burgeoning in suspended silence before she pulled the door open and, eyes winced, swung the pipe downward, over her own head, and-
ThockMaguel felt her heart congeal at the loud noise of halted metal, companioned by the stiff, heretical stopping of her swing. She let her eyes open, ready to withstand a beating despite her young, gaunt physique, but instead found the face of a colleague.
"Err, hello to you, too." Isaac said, the iron pipe caught deftly in the palm of his gloved hand, his eyebrow cocked wildly. Maguel flushed thoroughly, hastily retracting the metal cylinder and brushing her ginger hair back with her index finger.
"S-sorry about that, the knock sounded off as metal. It sounded like that of one of em' Sharpies, it did." Her accent was thick and original as usual, her nickname for the guards being more unconventional than any Isaac had heard of before he had made her acquaintance. Looking at his unusual attire, she added; "…Well, I suppose I happened to be right, but, well, y'know." She flushed again, this time around mildly, her focus on the cement stoop at her sandal- donning feet. Isaac nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, no worries. I didn't aim to jolt ya, and the chainmail I'm donning… Reluctantly, mind you… Happened to come in handy." With that, He dismounted the bag and handed it heftily to Maguel, who struggled to keep her footing with the weight of the package, and her face questioning humorously. "Enough meat t' last ya through the winter, I'm sure." Maguel beamed at the note on what the parcel was, grinning broadly.
"Eh? You actually went through the trouble o' breakin' in again, Isaac? Holy…"
Isaac simply nodded, waving his hand in a notion of formality as he turned back to the dim street, sighing deeply after hearing the charmingly overly tense farewell bubbling from Maguel and the flimsy wooden door creaking closed.
"Right then…" Isaac muttered, checking both edges of the fork in the road he found himself at. "What's next?
"Hey, Ty. You still awake?"
Isaac closed the door behind him, sighing with straightforwardness. He wouldn't have guessed all seven of his errands would fly by so promptly. A brisk silence followed, and Isaac blinked. "Guess not, then?"
That wasn't it, though. He just knew it. An odd air drifted about his den, suspending the ethereal sight of his hackneyed entrance hall with an unusual static feeling. Something was amiss, and Isaac had a gut-wrenching feeling that he knew what it was.
"Ty? Goddamit Ty, where the hell did you run off to now?"
Isaac craned his neck drastically, his wisped hair being forced back by the increasing wind strength blasting through the gaping window. He remained still, leaning out of the window and hearing the brutal wind beggining to pick up, before cursing under his breath and slicking the stained window shut.
In the absence of his worry, Isaac mindlessly ran his finger across the scar on his upper-right forehead. It ran seamlessly from the centre of his brow, losing itself in his mess of hair. The disturbed wound began to trickle and run down his face, feeling warm and stuttering as it dripped past his cheek, Isaac still thinking in a whole other time and place, thinking of what he should do, what he should have done.
Why the hell did I have to leave him in the cabin? Stupid, stupid, stupid!Isaac's self-loathing, nonetheless, was not making the matter any milder. Nor was it to last long enough for him to sulk.
A rustling sound filled the silence, numbing Isaac's neck as he turned, his eyes slowly treading his dimly lit den.
"Ty?" Isaac's lips let the word brush past unconsciously, hoping numbly that he hadn't announced himself to anything uninvited. His eyes slowed, realizing that he was alone once again.
A subtle wind blustered at Isaac's back, calming his nerves. I'll just sit for a moment. Something will come to me. This can be solved. I know it.
His tunic shuffling unsteadily, Isaac practically fell, limp, to his hay bed, his eyes closed and weary. Sure, it was arrogant, almost stupid to think that he would be able to find one green dragon in the middle of a Shark-infested village, let alone think that he was alive. With all the Sharks trotting about the area, he was bound to have been found by now, maybe even…
Isaac's gut knotted. What if they decided to chain him up, just like they did the hybrids? The thought coming to mind, the knot tightened, loose, scattered images of past times drifting before his mind's eye until he opened his eyes again, almost red from tear-ridden thoughts. He knew well enough that dwelling in the past, particularity his childhood, was completely stupid, and picked himself up again, feeling his positive thoughts of finding Ty fading with the memories, replaced by a drowning sense of failure…
And he froze, completely still. Something was wrong.
A single leather-bound book sat upon the wooden table, it's pages splicing randomly in the wind. Isaac didn't remember it being there before he had drifted off, but he had trouble remembering much of reality at all lately. He shrugged in his mind, uncoiling from his stone stance and trotting to the wooden furniture, placing his hand onto the book to stop the pages from tumbling in the random wind.
And at that moment, the gust halted.
Isaac's gaze froze, noticing the sudden silence, which seemed to muffle the brass wind chimes from across the way. His eyes rested on the open window, knowing well enough that those kinds of scenes didn't exactly occur often. He took a breath, thinking of an explanation even as he glanced back at the book he was holding down.
Only it was no longer under his palm.
Actually, it was nowhere on the table to be mentioned. Isaac stared dumbly, taking a step backwards and he lifted his gaze to the object in front of him.
No, hovering in front of him.
He stumbled backwards, regaining his footing in time to stare once again, tagging with the sight a caption.
"What the hell?" he mouthed, feeling his mouth parch in bewilderment. Now, that isn't normal!
Suddenly animate, the object whirled in thin air, defying physics and all explanation as it swung for Isaac's temple in some fit of blind fury that only a schizophrenic book could sample, barely allowing him time to weave underneath it and spin his body loosely in it's direction again.
Okay, screw explanations; just get the damned thing inanimate again! Isaac stumbled through the doorway to his den's main hall, pounding swiftly though his miniscule study and coming to a waist-level rickety bench, which he forced his body over and grasped his bow, completely ignoring his quiver as he pulled the pre-set bolt and string, glaring simply down the hallway, waiting for the demented, impossible psycho novel to round the hallway, if the daft pile of paper had the "brains" to do anything relatively strategic, that is.
He crouched and waited for thirty seconds, forty, still seeing nothing but a perfectly static hallway fit for a postmodern painting glaring back at him. Lowering his bow, Isaac sighed to himself, standing again. "I guess it was in my mind, then? I must be one twisted son of a-"
Isaac's cursing was cut off blindly by an explosion, a ricocheting sound that blasted him clean off of his feet and into a bookcase, which happened to be littered with the works of various authors, many of which followed him to the floor, bombarding him with a painful barrage of literature. He set his blurred, dusty vision upwards, swallowing the burst of blood that had followed the erratic consequence but not being able to stop a thick stream of crimson from dripping down his chin.
Through reasons both ridiculous and unexplained, the book had literally blown through the study wall with it's own force, something a bookcase wouldn't be likely to do- unless, of course, it seemed to be going completely insane and bloodthirsty like this foreign book. Isaac was barely able to contain his laughter at the ridiculous sight of a book exploding through a thick wooden wall, but something about the severe bleeding from his mouth stopped him from screaming with laughter, probably the dull flickering in his chest. His bow was still in hand as he brought himself to his knees, brushing books to the floor with various clattering, but the bolt had gone wild. Muttering something illegible to himself, Isaac placed his palm over the hilt of his- or rather, the Shark's- blade, only then realizing that he was still donning the strangely comfortable chainmail and uniform, and swallowed hard as the book shook erratically and rushed to his face once more.
Left! Seizing the book's reckless bravado, Isaac bolted at a sharp angle to his left, unsheathing the broadsword and bringing it to the book with a single, fluid motion…
And then felt it give, snap against the novel as a sudden burst of force from the book crushed the iron blade like a twig and sent Isaac to the floor with the sudden shift of wait, screaming with surprise all the while. He felt cold cobblestone, a collapsed section of the wall the book had somehow blown through, along with a severely sharp loss overcoming him.
It snapped a blade! A goddamn blade!
He had come across something he couldn't handle, not a chance, and he knew it…
But, almost with a dramatic irony, he glared around the dank and sandy room only to see the book sprawled across the floor, motionless, it's cover slammed shut atop itself like a tomb. A swelling, vain satisfaction bubbling to his chest, Isaac groaned tiredly, bringing his knees closer to himself and hanging his arms over them, his head between the limbs as he took sharp, deep breaths of the dirty air, ignoring the ceramic dust and brittle perfume that had drifted from the shattered wall. He completely blanked his mind, slackening himself into a form of repose. He didn't bother with any attempts to explain the flying book; the sudden silence or even Ty's disappearance, all of which he subconsciously knew was connected in some way. Sadly, this moment of amity lasted no longer than half a minute, at which Isaac felt a firm numbing overcome him, freezing his legs and shocking him into shaking his head up instantly, less than a second before he was completely engulfed by darkness. Not physical darkness, yet neither was in mental; it was as if something had literally swept him out of his own form, his own time and space, and somewhere completely different, and he was suddenly falling, panicking with an urge to understand where he was, gasping harshly as he continued to fall, past nothing but darkness, then a sudden blue light, and finally through a set of ridiculously displaced doorways, and-
And Isaac suddenly felt reminiscent, recalling this exact scene from another time, another place. This had all happened before, at the manor. He suddenly felt something shifting, something unorthodox, something inhumane and ethereal moving nearby.
And he landed with a soft thud, not feeling a thing but recognizing the sudden halt of his plummet by the way his limp, ragdoll form sprawled against something, something he recognized…
Isaac felt something. It was hot, somehow consoling and soothing and, like everything else in this place, whatever it was, gave Isaac a great déjà vu. Only this time it was somehow… Altered. He felt a deep gust of air; hot and scented oddly like that of carrion, followed by something slowly drawing in air. Isaac felt a sudden panic, as if it were trying to draw him into it, whatever it was, and felt himself mouth the word No…
And, in a similar fashion to a night time room being slowly lit, the world around and beyond his vision formed, appearing to both body and mind as he stared coldly at his angled vision, seeing cobblestone form, then a brilliant nighttime sky, clouded, moonlit and surreally sped up, followed by a gradual heat brushing his face, something flickering in his sight…
And Isaac's mind rebooted, his body reawakening and finding itself. He shot up abruptly, his face brushed with what appeared to be water, or perhaps sweat, and his clothes roughened and twisted.
Isaac instantly recognized where he was, and somehow was unable to be surprised. The fire, the cobblestone, the unusually sped up sky- he knew this place from two months ago, when he had met Ty…
Not having to reacquaint himself with his environs, Isaac brought his hand to his sweat- bothered face, wiping his cheek as a single droplet of sweat leaked over his lips…
And Isaac choked hastily; coughing and spitting at the sudden dead-carcass taste of the liquid. He quickly realized that the liquid drenching his face and shirt wasn't sweat.
It was the collected, damp breath of another creature entirely.
Grimacing, Isaac vigorously swiped at his face with his sleeve, not very keen on having the spit of another being near him- unless it was that of another hybrid, not to mention a female…
Naturally, as Isaac got to his half-numb feet, he couldn't help but ponder what exactly the saliva belonged to. Whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn't an herbivore, judging by the carrion flavouring of everything around him.
This quickly fled his mind, nonetheless, as he glanced off at the once-again distant set of houses, enough to be a village, if not a city. I never did get to see exactly wot' that village was about, not to mention it's name. Unless I happen another one of those random holes in time, or whatever the hell those things are, I might be here for a while yet, so might as well explore as best I can. With the mild thought in mind, Isaac took a slow breath and pushed off, beggining to dash single-mindedly for the unexplained village in the backdrop of the sky, trotting through the moderate gap in the flames, still trying to piece together everything that had happened.
On his way down the path, Isaac stripped out of his damp chainmail and left it in the centre of the stone path, flexing and massaging his tired shoulders, too exhausted and confused to either care or be able to carry it along with him. The only thing that he was armed with happened to be the small dagger that his family had carried with them for ages. Its blade happened around the size of his index finger doubled, the hilt wrapped in buffalo hide and a lucid gem fit into the hilt, eccentrically elegant despite it's ragged wear and tear. In his absent jog to the charismatic settlement on the horizon, Isaac slid the knife out of its leather holster and spun it on his finger; still damp from whatever it was that had been nearby him. He couldn't quite overcome that thought; it gave him a compelling paranoia to take in stride along with everything else, although more unsettling matters weighed down his mind.
Ty's outlandish desertion, for example…Isaac slowly grew stern, once again thinking of what he was going to do about that matter exactly. Ty was- is, he tried to think- his responsibility, not just another thing. It wasn't likely that he could just go back to normal life now.
Besides, half of my goddamn house has been blown to high noon. Isaac groaned, not in the mood to think about flying books and other disturbingly dense subjects.
Isaac reached the village at midday.
His legs were creaming for respite from the hard pathway once he got closer to the area, so he shifted to his right and strolled across the unusually flat, peppermint green grass until he made it to his objective. He was welcomed by oil lanterns, men dressed in grey jumpsuits beggining to put out and unhinge them from the wooden poles they were hooked to. He noticed the unique landscape and roads, everything from livestock to what appeared to be a trickle of farmers, loping across the road with their apparatus and appliances, talking to one another mindlessly, yet alongside that the streets were almost bare and silent. Many of the buildings seemed to be wooden and concrete-based, a simple theme. Finally, the streets were barren and shifting, a stereotypical western setting with a more modern flavouring, somehow.
Not only that, but something loomed off in the not-far-off distance, large and dark, obviously mechanical.
I wonder what that is…?" The image of the object's silhouette was burning into his mind for later reference, like a carving into soapstone.
Tilting his head, Isaac read the chained sign looming over his head, dangling to the backdrop of the midday sun.
Mecca, City of the Deserted it read.
As Isaac studied the sign with one raised eyebrow, noticing the worn and grimy edges and rusted chains, along with the terrible pun of naming an obviously western city "City of the Deserted," he heard a sharp noise, and turned his neck in time to catch sight of a metallic point, aimed deftly at his throat, a killing blow. It took Isaac all of a moment to realize that he was going to die, but it didn't occur to him that the blunt smack to his shoulder wasn't that same death he so feared.
Isaac stumbled hard, his vision blurring with sudden motion blurring his sight for half a second before steadying himself with his left palm and shaking himself off, his heart racing and confused within seconds. Before he could regain his bearings, something grasped his left arm, and Isaac glanced upwards, trailing the trenchcoat-donning arm to someone also getting up from the dirt, presumably whoever had knocked him on his face in the first place, their identity masked by a hood. Before he could open his mouth, the character began to dash wildly away from the screaming that Isaac had just noticed, and he sighed briefly.
That is, before he was pulled along.
He regained his footing, forced to push his legs to the point of sharp pain in order to keep up with him or her. Whoever it was, they seemed almost superhumanly fast. Isaac's ears tuned into another wispy noise, and a bolt slew the air by his head, prompting him successfully to dash harder, his legs digging firmly into the sand. He pushed himself further yet, and twenty seconds of mad-dashing and various bolt-avoiding later, at the stricken moment that Isaac feared that he would collapse, the puzzling character he was tailing took a sharp left, followed by a sharper right, almost literally dragging Isaac along with them, and came to an abrupt halt with their back against a wooden wall, forcing Isaac up against the same wall with one hand and clasping the other against his mouth, not so much to halt his breathing as to keep him from blurting out anything daft as the hollering mob ran directly past them, Isaac noticing when he caught up with himself that they were in shadows. After a couple of numbly careful seconds, the figure groaned with fatigue, an obviously feminine voice, as they slid slowly down the wall and came to an exhausted sitting position, legs misplaced randomly and her chest shaking erratically with adrenaline. Isaac collapsed as well, feeling his legs numb and sweat taking over the sour spittle covering his form. He glanced over at the girl, and noticed for the first time that her face was wrapped with some sort of bandage; almost a turban, only covering all of her features but her left eye. It was a deep blue hue, sharp and intelligible, at least streetwise. She seemed to take a concluding breath before speaking.
"You alright, guy?" She half-mumbled, seeming unconvinced by the shaky nod she got in response. Isaac could easily see that there was something wrong, or rather simply different with her. Something about her eye…
In the breath-punctuated silence, her eye widened slightly, glaring with mild horror at Isaac's jaw. " Oh, Jesus, you're bleeding!" she breathed, and Isaac realized she was referring to the blood that was, somehow, still leaking from his mouth from the explosion. The figure crept closer, but Isaac backed away slightly, and she sighed, obviously caught off-guard by his defensiveness. "What? I just saved your foolish ass, didn't I? Where's the gratitude?" Isaac could see that she was trying on some humour, but he needed to be sure of something before trusting her, his knight in shining armour or not.
He swallowed dryly, still catching his breath.
"Why," he asked, his voice cracked." Are you wearing that wrap?"
She glared at his features for a moment before sighing. "You're not from around here, are you?" Isaac shook his head slowly even as she brushed her hood down and pulled the wraps off her face hastily, the bandages falling to her shoulders and remaining there as if they were meant to be easily removed and replaced.
Isaac stared in mulled horror; gasping and pulling himself back with his arms, brow wrinkled in surprise.
Her skin was matted with an elegant brunette fur striped with patches of darker-yet fur of rare occurrence, lighter than her moderate same-colour hair, which both fell to her shoulders in tangled-yet-straight bangs, which flopped in front of her right eye, partially obscuring it, and spiked messily around her head. Her nose was abnormally small, although not to the point of stupidity. Accenting the oddity were the eyes, which Isaac could now clearly see were those almost exactly of a feline's, yet highlighted with human qualities and proportions. Her ears were perfectly human… Well, at least the ones on the sides of her head were- the cat-like ears, which were partially blocked from view by various spiked bangs hanging around them, were perched firmly atop her head, lined with the same fur as her face donned, the light pink skin in the ears barely visible from Isaac's near-inverse view. Finally, to finish the overwhelming ridiculousness of her appearance, her hands were that of a feminine human's, although still lined with the fur of a cat, and her feet, which donned sandals similar to the ones Maguel wore, were simply feline in almost every sense, with three accented toes that seemed to hide the lethal claws of a predator, and once again fur-covered. She stood straight, exactly like a human would, so he guessed the paws (feet, paws- they were the same to Isaac) were longer than an ordinary cat's, another human attribute to chock up to the list. She glared down at him from a crouch, sighing impatiently as Isaac studied her appearance, and Isaac settled down, et could still hear a trace of mild panic and surprise trailing his voice from his lungs;
"You're a hybrid?!" He breathed, as she put her temple to her hand and massaged it; obviously sick of the exact conversation he had started. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?!" The hybrid took a breath, dropping her furred hand again.
"You didn't ask, now did you?" she said, looking him in the eye with one eyebrow cocked dramatically, in a humorous sense.
"I was a little busy not getting skewered by whoever the hell those fruits back there happened to be, in case you didn't notice!" He replied, slowly calming himself and relaxing from the shock.
"Well," she began to lecture, crossing her arms and cocking her head, "Would you have preferred it if I would have let you get a bolt in the head rather than an escape route? Look, this city is called the City of the Deserted for a reason; everyone here is an outcast in one way or another. Well, almost everyone, at least, and they'll do what it takes to get the supplies they need- in this case, by attempting to kill you and take whatever you have." A dumb smile leaked to her face as Isaac admitted defeat, raising his hands dismissingly and raising his eyebrows humorously. She gave him a nod and laughed. "The name's Koi, by the way, named after the fish. Don't you owe me the same introduction?"
Isaac let his entire body unwind and sighed, looking up at her now-standing form. She was wearing stitched jeans that were cut moderately, halting at the point where they brushed her ankle. Her torso was covered in what appeared to be a brown felt trenchcoat, cut jaggedly into an unbuttoned, sleeveless vest, and
"Isaac, after my father's favourite author, I.U. Gilliam." He accepted her hand, standing up and brushing himself off briskly before looking back up at her.
"Wait…" She wrinkled her nose slightly, looking him up and down, and Isaac knew fully well what she was going to say. "Why do you smell like carrion?" He laughed at the comment before answering.
"Not sure. To tell the truth, I woke up in the odd circle of flames just a few kilometres outside the city, smelling like this and drenched in… Something."
"What? What circle of flames?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow, and Isaac stared dumbly. She seemed to deftly change the subject, however.
"No matter, though." She said, a sly grin on her lips. "I know what that stench is."
"Hmm? What is it, then?" She cocked her head again, changing shoulders.
"That, my friend, is the stench of a dragon."
End chapter two.
Chapter three: Acquaintances.
If you happen to have not caught on by this point in time, a hybrid is exactly what the title qualifies as; a half-breed. However, the circumstances for a hybrid to be born are not for a human to impregnate, say, a gopher. Rather than having the name cross-breed taken literally, a hybrid is actually someone who is born form a human, but with unexplained animalistic traits. These traits may be nothing more than fur, or maybe teeth. Instincts, even. But it doesn't matter; once a hybrid is born, it is promised a life of misery and pain at the hands of both the government and others. Why this happens isn't exactly known to anyone, although many speculate that the reason for hybrids in the parallel world in which Isaac's story takes place is closer to nature than we may ever be. Because of this, the humans in this world
As Isaac trailed closely behind Koi across the barren streets, glancing every minute or so over his shoulder erratically, he couldn't help but shake what she had said.
Stench of a dragon? He thought to himself, his hand loosely dangling above his lower-leg holster, which hid his rarely-used knife. What does that mean? Ty? He shivered unexpectedly at the thought. How could Ty have breathed in hard enough to almost inhale him? He was only slightly larger than a cat! Not only that, but he had no clue where Ty had gone. The possibility that Ty may have been swept into the same fanatical place he found himself in pricked at his mind, bothering his consciousness and weighing him down mentally. He was completely lost.
Fortunately, he wasn't lost physically, but mentally; and in the irate streets of Mecca, as Koi knew well enough, you couldn't afford to be lost.
At least, not if you don't enjoy having a bolt thrust into your gut on a daily basis.
Koi had decided to let Isaac stay (or crash, as she put it casually) at her den until he could piece together something, a way to get home. He had explained his situation to her, but she was bewildered by it all- she didn't exactly seem like a genius type. Nonetheless, she could see that Isaac wasn't too sure of himself on the streets of Mecca, not after almost being killed within less than a minute upon him taking residence in it. And that's how Koi happened to become Isaac's first, and only, accomplice in the strange land of Mecca.
It didn't take long, thanks much to Koi's brilliant choice of sidestreets and alleyways, for them to reach Koi's Villa; what appeared to Isaac to be the rear entrance into a pub. He shrugged and followed her through the bare wooden door, clattering it shut behind him.
"Sweet Mary, I hate walking!" Koi announced to no one in particular as she and Isaac practically stumbled into the humble room in which she took residence.
"Well, I don't recall ever hearing of anyone who particularly liked being exhausted." Isaac breathed as Koi lazily stumbled off of her sandals and plummeted to the leather couch, letting her legs dangle off of one end as she took a tired breath.
"Oh, shut up." She laughed quietly.
Not really caring to sit on anything relatively comfortable, Isaac simple sat against the sewn edge of the couch that was closest to him, Koi's feet hanging limply two inches above him as he sighed, running his hand through his sandy mane.
A buoyant silence swept the comfortable room, giving Isaac a brief minute to think, a moment of respite in the rush of exploit he found himself briefly entangled in. His mind drifted to various subjects…
Why wouldn't Koi have noticed the fire outside of the town if she lives here? How did I even wind up there? How could I have been so lucky to be knocked out of the way of that lethal bolt? And how the bloody hell am I going to get back to Vadico, wherever it may be now?
Yet, a more important subject came to mind.
Why did I have a dragon's stench on me when I woke up? The thought puzzled him indefinitely.
Koi's relaxed voice broke the silence with awe-inducing anticlimax.
"Hey, Isaac. I'm betting you're thirsty after that mad dash, hmm?" Isaac continued to drift mindlessly, glaring straight ahead in a dumb strike.
P-thunk.
Koi kicked him on the head, growling to herself at his playful ignorance. Isaac scowled abruptly, and glared up at Koi, who had slunk forward on the couch far enough to plant her foot on his head and catch his attention. She had a useless grin on her face as she chuckled playfully. "C'mon, you dolt, answer me." Isaac let through a smile, raising an eyebrow.
"Naw, I'm fine." Naturally, his voice cracked dryly, exposing his lie ironically. Koi grinned slyly and leaned forward more so, digging her foot into Isaac's head.
"Oh, give me a break, Isaac. Stop playing silent dork and ask politely for a drink." He couldn't help but grin, sighing again.
"Fine, fine. I wouldn't mind a drink… Fish."
In the few hours that he spent in Koi's abode, Isaac noticed that the interior of Koi's dwelling took on a surprisingly formal essence, a kick to the head after experiencing her incredibly baggy attitude towards… Everything and anything she would speak about, really. A taut leather couch lay not two metres in front of the entrance, which had a strange emblem emblazoned directly above it; it looked like an orb with various jewelled spikes jutting out of it in every direction. A multitude of cheap-looking, yet eloquent, rugs and mats lay about the room, covering the marble-looking floor which clicked subtly beneath his leather boots, which he insisted on keeping on despite Koi's random recommendation. The walls were lined with paintings that were placed under the names of various artists that Isaac had never heard of, which Koi laughed at.
How the bloody hell could anyone have not heard of Deogradi? She went on and on about the subject, much to Isaac's hilarity. I swear, he had recalled while laughing hysterically at Koi's ranting, She sounds just like my mother did on the subject of books! Eventually, the rant would degrade into both of them laughing eccentrically for almost no reason but each other, and slowly getting to know each other, Isaac dropping the stereotype against hybrids like a hot mug. Sadly, Koi found herself bringing the exact same thing up once more.
"Isaac," she questioned unconsciously, her hands occupied by a cold flask of mead. Isaac looked away from the painting he was looking over resignedly. "Why did you seem so horrified when I showed that I was a hybrid?"
Isaac froze, eyes glazed.
"No reason. Why do you ask?" Koi turned the flask in her palm.
"Well, you seemed pretty taken aback by it. Even if you were surprised by the fact that I was a hybrid, I don't think you would have been so cautious; you looked like you were afraid that I was going to eat you, for Chrissake's." She looked up from the flask, directly at his face. Her features were still in their overly calm, unorthodox settings. "What's up?"
Isaac began to look away, trying to decide whether or not he should reveal anything at all to her. Fortunately, perhaps, she made the decision for him.
"That scar on your forehead, Isaac… I know well enough what it's gotta' be from." Isaac grimaced, turning away and tracing the scar subconsciously. After a long period of silence, he sighed and turned back to her.
"Both of my parents were hybrids." He explained, doing his best to keep a calm expression across his face. "And they… My father was always getting into arguments with my mother about what they should do with me… He wanted to kill me, though I never found out whether he wanted to avoid having me as a burden or keep me away from the Sharks…. So he attacked me when I was a kid." Koi nodded forlornly.
"But my mother wouldn't have it, so… She killed him." Isaac felt his gut knot at the words coming out of his own mouth. He turned away yet again, trying to find another subject to bring up.
"But you," Koi chimed over-enthusiastically, catching Isaac off-guards. "You're a hybrid too, aren't you?" After a long period of silence, Isaac said one lonesome syllable.
"No. I'm not"
And the subject was dropped.
When a hybrid is born, they have various choices. The most obvious of which is to simply leave yourself as you are, taking both abuse and death in stride with all else. The second is to take a sharp object and completely remove everything that looks vaguely animalistic as to not attract attention, and continue with your normal life with a painful scar, a horrendous memory of life's past.
The third choice is to commit suicide.
"Are you coming?" Koi chimed lowly, catching Isaac unawares and drawing him away from his sleep.
"Guh?" he mumbled wearily, blinking sleep out of his eyes swiftly. He had fallen asleep sitting up on the marble floor, leaning on the couch. "Coming? Where to?"
Koi raised an eyebrow.
"The Bastion. Where else?" She grinned dramatically, glaring at Isaac with one animal-esque eye. "I'm planning on breaking in… With your help."
Although the sandy streets were still deserted, Isaac felt an overwhelming paranoia while shrewdly ducking through the back alleys of Mecca, following the again-bandaged Koi closer yet to the humongous building in the centre of the town. Isaac recalled their earlier conversation, glancing over his shoulder yet again at nonexistent ghosts, dancing in his peripheral vision.
"The Bastion? What the hell's the Bastion?" Isaac asked, getting off of the floor and stretching drastically, arms vertical.The bastion," Koi began. "Is the main facility that runs half of this miserable town, if not all of it. It pumps flammable, unnatural oils to over a hundred pressure points in the city. Did you notice the oversized building in the backdrop of the city? That's the Bastion." Isaac nodded slowly, still not totally sure.
"Okay, but why do you need to break in? What are you planning on doing?" Isaac muttered, confused.
"Well," She said, her eyes beggining to drift. " We're going to shut the whole damned thing down, we are. Those pressure points I was talking about? They're planning on using them to blow up the city. That's what they've done for years upon years, at least…"
When Isaac questioned why, he got a slow response. "To get rid of all of the forgotten and make room for the remembered." Isaac felt his heart slow, seeing what she meant. The government- or whoever built the facility- wanted to toss everyone here away, like a discarded wrapper. That way, "actual" human beings could move in, not seeing so much of a trace of what was once there.
"And you're just guessing randomly that I'm going to help out?" He asked, a faint grin.
"Yeah, I guess I do." She smiled back, opening the door and ushering him out of the room.
When Isaac followed Koi out of the sidestreets and to the centre of the city, where the Bastion sat, he could only say one thing at first.
"Holy grave, it's bloody huge!" The building towered over them, leaving them in shadow and drowning out the blistering sun. Isaac's tunic was drenched in sweat, the "stench of a dragon" only a fading scent now, and so he found grateful refuge in the cool shadows. The building towered over the both of them, large, black and misshapen. Various jutting edges appeared further up the tower, giving it a menacing appearance, yet besides that it was surprisingly… Bare. It stood well over 120 feet, but didn't quite manage to reach into the clouds.
"Don't worry," Koi said to him, her voice muffled by the bandages. "We only have to make it half-way up." Isaac nodded before asking yet another question.
"Wait, how are we supposed to get in? If we could get in, couldn't anyone else?" She shook her head while moving towards the structure.
"No, it's either that they don't have a partner in crime to help them out with getting up, or they're just too chicken. This isn't the City of the Gallant, right?" Isaac nodded again. Koi sighed, looking up the building. "Right, then. You going to give me a lift, or what?" Isaac caught on quickly, putting his back to the building, just below what appeared to be a vent, and kneeling onto one knee, his hands clasped. He would do this kind of juvenile thing with his friends all the time.
"Try not to crack your head." He announced, smiling. She grinned back, taking a breath.
Koi was heavier than Isaac had thought, but he gave her a large boost, nonetheless.
The even occurred seamlessly; the boost up, her pulling herself into the vent, and a long silence. After what felt to be half a second in Isaac's daydreaming, a loud clang sounded off, causing Isaac to jump erratically. Looking to his right, he saw that there was a proper way into the building; by opening it from the inside. A ground-level panel roughly twice his size flipped down, and Koi appeared from beyond it.
"Alright, Isaac, no more slacking off. Let's get to work."
Walking into the mammoth edifice, Isaac was not surprised by what he saw. Of course, this was because it was unbelievably surreal, something Isaac found himself getting used to swiftly.