Heh, this seems a little weird, doesn't it? Me writing a story again, one that I absolutely loathed, even. And yes, yet another new project... Well, all will be explained at the end of this chapter. No, I'm not insane. I think. I hope you enjoy the first chapter anyhow.

A Thief's Beginning

Amber glinted upon the stone streets of Firemore, the setting sun tempting the night to swallow the city. The street lamps, however, flickered on at that moment, warding away the darkness encroaching. Technology, truly a marvel. What a thing it could do with five hundred years. Burning spirit gems, light and electricity coursed around every block.

While most paid little attention to the awakening of the lights, one red dragon noted the time. Underneath the daylight, hidden from view, when he wasn't busy, he generally weaved his claw around a page, inky vial by his flank, writing whatever came to mind. Settings, characters of his own creation. An aspiring author.

There was more to it than that, however. The second phase of his day, nightfall. The red dragon exhaled. Nearly caught so many times, and had been once or twice. Thrown into a cell, idly wasting away the days by himself. They could never keep him for long, though...

The guards were serious about keeping this city lawful. And, well, he could admit they did a good job. They tried to place him inside an orphanage and offer him schooling once or twice, but he ran far from the rickety old hag and the freakish children there. They'd lost hope in him long ago, but they knew it was against the laws of the Dragon Realms to banish a young dragon such as he.

Plenty tried to keep well away from him. They knew who he was. The whole city knew. The Red Rodent, they'd call him, a popular name amongst the denizens of the city.

It didn't matter much. As despised as he was for his profession, nobody ever seemed to notice red claws about to descend upon their hinds. Every reaction was priceless. Even if nine times out of ten he was caught in the act and almost captured once more, that alone was worth it. And so were the riches. When he saw the dungeons the first time, he'd expected them to be inescapable, but it turned out it was high time they received a renovation.

He hadn't been captured for a long time now. He was proud of that. Sometimes, though, it just felt like it was too easy.

Hours in to the night, the red dragon stalked the streets. Watchful eyes fell to bleak shadows many a time. He sniffed the air, as though he were a predator.

Then, his prayers were answered. A dragon of around the same height as he wandered past, eyes startled by something. Like an anxious sheep, the green dragoness seemed. Her eyes almost caught his own gaze, but he was quick to back into the shadows. The girl seemed familiar, but he couldn't place a claw on it. Perhaps another he'd stolen from before. Despite the lighting, Firemore was a dim city.

Beneath street lights she roamed, shadows dancing along her body, but the red dragon's only focus was on the purse slapping her side, jingling. Her appearance would only matter when she realised she'd had her copper stolen.

As soon as she turned, the red dragon scampered along the streets, paws as quiet as the heart beating in his chest. He caught up to her as she was about to turn down an alleyway.

He felt pity for her, knowing not what he was about to do. He jumped to the roof of a building, golden eyes trailing her, until she stopped. Then, paws outstretched, he leaped from the rooftops, a shadowed blur amongst the midnight.

The dragoness didn't see him. He grinned a devious smirk as he descended upon her.

And then, without warning, the dragoness shifted to the right. He didn't notice in time. Stomach-first, he landed on the pebbled pathways.

He thought he heard a snicker beside him, but he was far too focused on his loss of breath. He quickly jumped up to make a break for it, vision washed in colours. He felt the familiar stone of the buildings against his face and once more toppled over, his mind swirling.

"You oughta step up your game, Roland."

He knew the voice. Familiar, and surprisingly playful. She sounded blissfully unaware of pain rocketing through his form. As his mind came to, he made out the face of a young dragoness he did happen to know. He spoke, voice hoarse.

"M-Myrtle?"

"No, the fuckin' Ancestors. Who else, Roland? And why are you playing games with me all of a sudden?"

Her voice dripped with playful sarcasm. There was no mistaking it then. It definitely was Myrtle. How had he not made out her features before, especially with that distinctive scar stretching across her eyes? He decided to blame it on the poor lighting, but even that seemed far-fetched. Was his vision failing him? He was only fifteen!

"I'm– Ouch." Roland gritted his teeth. "I feel like I... I just broke every bone in my body."

Myrtle's green eyes narrowed in scrutiny. Realisation dawned on her face. "Oh... shit, you're bleeding. You didn't actually slam into the ground just now, did you? I thought you would've tried to stop yourself."

"I was a bit reckless, I guess... Ouch." A narrow smile spread across his face; it disappeared a moment later as he winced.

"You are the stupidest dragon I've ever met, mistakin' me for some random dragoness." She rolled her eyes, head shaking. "But hey, we love you all the same." She held out her paw and he took it. "Let's get you back and cleaned up."

"Bloody hell, Roland... I didn't think you were that dumb."

Roland nodded. "Yeah, I've already been told I'm stupid several times by Myrtle, Seth."

The burly brown dragon in front of him creased his brow; Myrtle looked as though she was trying not to laugh, sitting in the corner of the little stone room everyone had worked together to build beneath Firemore's waterways. Sure, the air smelt of sewage – and so did they all – but Roland loved their base of operations and his little family.

"Sure, you might've done some stupid things before, but this takes the cake."

Seth, two years older than he, laughed over the story, but his face was every bit serious now. He jabbed Roland in his bandaged gut a few times, to which Roland cringed. Sending a message, clearly. "Next time, don't almost kill yourself. You could've easily broken a few bones slamming into the concrete like that, and our stock of spirit gems hasn't been very high, because of that thief."

"I'll try," he said, rubbing his grazed stomach, giggling. "But I can't guarantee anything."

Seth exhaled. "Whatever. Before you go to bed, could you pay that new blue girl a visit? She's been real shy and you're probably the friendliest dragon we have.

"What about me?" Myrtle asked, grin unwavering. "I'm friendly too."

"Yeah, but you'd probably exhaust her with your incessant babbling. You're annoying sometimes, Myrtle."

"You definitely prefer Roland over me, don't y-"

"Shut up." Seth turned his attention to the red dragon. "Anyway, go and see her, Roland. I saw her in Pipe C when I was coming back. Maybe she's still around."

Roland nodded, turning away. "Yeah, I'm on it." With a flick of his tail, he shut the door behind him.

Until a few years ago, he'd found the pipelines tedious to navigate, but time had passed and he enjoyed roaming the lonely, sprawling tubes constructed by the moles. The stench he was used to by now – once it felt as though his nostrils were deteriorating, but, in an odd sense, it had become homely. Crossing the makeshift bridges they'd hastily put together, he fancied peering into the murky waters staring back at him. He often spoke to the others on the way, but they were slumbering elsewhere, and so he had himself to focus on.

He studied himself once more, stepping onto a board lying across the gap. His red and grey scales remained flecked with a deeper scarlet of his own, but it blended in enough for him to not mind. They were chipped and damaged, unpolished and neglected, but... he did prefer it that way. It gave him that "rough" sort of look, he felt, made him seem tougher than he really was. Unfortunately, his unnaturally scrawny frame didn't do the look he wished for any justice. Sometimes, when he hadn't eaten for just a few days, he could see a rib teetering on the edge of being visible through his scales.

He was prideful of his horns, however; four beams of lustrous gold that curled back ever so slightly. A number of spines of the same luxurious shade ran along his back to the tip of his tail, a wicked blade – or it would've been if he'd sharpened it. The only dragon amongst the vast pipelines who did sharpen it was that new girl, the blue dragoness. A sharp tail blade was more of a fashion statement than anything. Most here didn't care for looks, but she liked hers.

Well, he couldn't really blame her. She was kinda pretty...

He stopped in his tracks, turning towards the pipe labelled 'C', the crude letter gouged into the steel via heated claw. Not his own doing. That was another dragon's work, his best friend's. His appearance could fool others into thinking he was a fire dragon, but he wasn't sure what he was. Fifteen years old, and he still hadn't discovered it. His element was unknown to him.

He wished he could know. The others teased him for it. It'd been hurtful once, but he'd since grown accustomed to the unoriginal and generic insults they hurled his way. At least most only joked about it.

He spotted the blue dragoness just ahead; her tail jutted out of a small incline she'd hidden herself inside. Roland lifted a brow and padded over.

She was fiddling with something inside. He wondered what was so important she had to keep it hidden away.

"Hey there," he said in the friendliest tone he could muster – which also happened to be loud. She jumped like she'd been bitten and whatever she held in her paws went careening through the air into the sewer water behind them.

She looked back, mouth agape, running towards the edge of the pathway, azure eyes scanning the liquid. "Oh, crap! Crap, crap, crap..."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry." He ran towards where he last saw it flying. Beneath the muddy liquid, however, he couldn't spot whatever it had been. "I didn't mean to–"

"You have no idea what you just lost in there!" the dragoness yelled, maw dripping with poison. "Who the hell just walks up behind people and yells–"

"U-um, gimme a sec," he said, intervening before she decked him one. "Lemme get it."

As he said he would, he dove beneath the waves of sewage water, not giving it any thought. Whatever the hell the residents of Firemore ate stung his eyes and nostrils, but underneath the bleary waters was what she'd been holding. He grasped the glimmering piece between his claws. A golden ring, and fixed to a small socket was a sapphire that shimmered even beneath these waters.

Roland clambered out of the waterways, holding the ring above his head. The blue dragoness looked thankful, but still she seemed peeved off. That, and she was astonished he'd simply dive into sewage.

"Sorry about that..." The red dragon held it out for her, and her aggressive paws snatched it back. "I... d-did say I was sorry."

"And if you are, you won't forget to be fucking careful next time!" she added. Roland attempted to remain stoic, but he backed off as she glared at him, her expression disapproving. His features drooped of their own accord. It didn't help that she looked far stronger than he.

"Just don't be so damn sudden..."

"Yeah, I... understand." He couldn't quite find his voice. Two imbecilic things he'd done today, and it'd only been mere hours after midnight. How many more things would he get wrong...?

"...N-Now you're making me feel bad." A thin smile spread across her face. "I'm kinda surprised you dove into... you know, crap, to get it back, but thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome. I'll just... leave you alone now. Sorry..." He turned to pad away, but the girl's tone spoke otherwise.

"...N-no, stay." Her eyes were fixed on his. Roland cocked his head leftward. "I-I know it was an accident. I'm sorry for yelling. The ring... It just means a lot to me. What did you want?"

He sat on his haunches, legs exhausted. At least she'd calmed, and quickly too. "I was just saying hi. Seth wanted me to greet you properly. I mean, we don't even know your name yet. After Leurona brought you in, you sort of just hopped off elsewhere. But that's okay. I was pretty shy when I started meeting people here."

"I'm sorry. I... haven't really gotten around to introducing myself yet." Her voice shook ever so slightly. Enraged one moment, then back to her usual shy self. The golden ring must've been important to her. "My name's Ashlyn."

"Roland." He held out his paw. Ashlyn nearly took it, but screwed up her face and drew hers away.

"Um, I-I hope you don't mind, Roland..."

"O-oh, yeah, certainly not," he laughed. "I need to have a bath that isn't, you know, in the sewer waters."

Ashlyn noted the stench permeating his body then and there, putting a paw over her nostrils. She grinned, however. "Yeah, you kind of reek..."

"Well, you better get used to it. Those white horns won't shine forever if you're down here, Ashlyn."

"That's a challenge I'm willing to accept," she said, a spark of confidence in her voice. She quickly lost it though. "We'll, uh... see."

Roland grinned, then turned his eyes to the ceiling. "Um... So, how's the weather?"

"You... you aren't very good at sparking a conversation..."

"Well, not when I feel like crap!" He chuckled. "I've already jumped off a building today... And now my bandages are sopping. And now my cuts are probably going to get infected. Woo, this day keeps getting worse!"

It was Ashlyn's turn to cock her head. "How did you manage that?"

"Eh, long story short, I miscalculated a jump and mistook a friend for a potential target, and then she moved and I winded myself on the concrete."

Unlike Myrtle after helping him up, Ashlyn's face showed genuine concern. "Does it still hurt? And... what do you mean target?"

"Nah, only stinging." He patted his stomach to relieve her concerns, but the motion only made him flinch. "And we're thieves, if you didn't know. We steal to get around, but never too much."

"Oh... okay. Not as bad as..." she muttered the rest of her words.

"Not as bad as what?"

"N-nothing, don't worry." She got to her feet and made for her little incline again. "Anyway, I'll see you around, Roland. Thanks for saying hi. I do appreciate it. I probably would've been too scared to say hi myself." She snickered.

"You're welcome. You don't sound that shy, but try not to be. We're all nice around here."

"W-well, you should be more careful," she jested. "I'll... see you around? I've got some ring polishing to do."

"Of course, if you intend on staying around." He patted her back with his wing. "See ya later."

And then she walked off. She seemed nice. Roland delved into his mind to figure out what her last, strangely foreboding words were, trying to read the motion of her muzzle, but couldn't find the answers he wished for. He was certain she'd open up sooner or later and give up her timidness. But other than that – and the incident with her ring – he felt their interaction had gone pretty well. He'd tell Seth, but he was too tired for it.

After diving into the seas for a quick wash to get any loose sewage off of his body, he made his way to his room, a smaller room connected to the others. Unlike many of the people here, he had his own bed – stole it himself, of course (how he carried a bed was a story for a different day) –, a chest of drawers, and a little golden lamp. Most rooms were plain, except for the occasional pillow or basket strewn about. He took to decorating it though. What he scribbled down in the mornings he pasted above his bedhead so he could read and criticise his work as he entered.

The lamp upon the drawers flickered; he'd forgotten to blow it out, and its oil had run dry. Most had electric ones nowadays, but he liked the antique. He'd have to thieve more oil later. Laying beside the firelight, jotting down stories... Enticing as it was, his eyes could barely keep open at this rate.

He grabbed the tip of his velvet sheet and climbed inside. He lay relaxing for a moment before exhaustion pulled him from reality.

"Hey. Hey, Roly. Wake up."

Groggily, the red dragon opened his eyes. "Mmmm... What?"

"You need to check this out. It's really weird."

Roland looked to his set of drawers, checking the golden pocket watch ticking away atop it. Squinting, he realised it was four in the morning.

"Drevon, what are you doing up at this time?"

Drevon's features were difficult to make out, but Roland could spot the obvious smile cracking his face. "I couldn't sleep. I had a weird dream, so I went outside, and low and behold there's this thing flying through the sky. I dunno what it is, and I don't think it's a dragon."

Curiosity piqued, Roland raised a brow. "Are you sure you aren't just seeing things? I mean, you have been saying you've had weird hallucinations. You've been getting me to look at things a lot lately."

"No, I'm serious," the dragon said. "Those usually go away after a while – even I thought I was just seeing things again, but there's actually something really weird out there. Quick, it might've already gone away!"

Drevon raced out of his room, skidding and scampering down the corridors. Roland, meanwhile, exhaled and climbed out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He didn't know how one dragon could be so energetic.

He approached the balcony beyond Pipe A, the exit and entrance to their base in Firemore's waterways, and one such exit – if a little unrealistic – to the city. Swallowed by the gloom, he could barely make out Drevon's form, but his violet eyes shined despite the darkness. The stars and the celestial moons painted the sky in a palette of reds and greens that transfixed the pair. Often if Roland couldn't sleep he'd gaze upon them, studying the patterns they weaved across the sky's canvas. It was a place of peace for him.

"You see that thing up there?"

Roland leaned closer to the dragon beside him. The moons remained as mesmerising as ever; there was nothing out of the ordinary. "No, I don't... Are you sure you're not–"

"No, bud, I'm not. Look closer. It's right there, in the centre of the red moon."

Roland turned to the larger of the twin moons. He narrowed his eyes. It was a beautiful thing, an orb of velvety red studying the world below it. That was normal, but Roland did happen to see what in particular Drevon was speaking of.

Something distant, flying in aimless circles. Its wings were large, but that was about all he could see. He assumed it was a dragon. However, no dragon would ever fly so high, especially at this time...

"See it now?"

"You actually aren't crazy for once, Drevon." He grinned. Drevon snickered in response. "There is something up there. Probably just some loony, though. Why he's up so high is weird."

"Yeah, I know, right?" Drevon pointed to the thing's oddly shaped wings. As Roland scrutinised the figure more, he realised the thing didn't have paws like a dragon either, and instead simple claws attached to its wings. It was like a wyvern in that sense, but they hadn't been around for years. "I don't think it's a dragon, though. What do you think it is?"

Roland didn't know much about animals, but even he knew this creature's size and proportions were off. He couldn't place a claw on it. "If it's not some weirdo dragon, I have no clue."

There came a screech, faint but clearly audible. He felt Drevon shiver next to him, as though in fear. "U-Um, yeah, I don't think that's a dragon, Roly."

"No..." A droplet landed on the tip of Roland's snout. He pawed it away, noting the change in weather. "Seems like it's gonna start raining. We should head back in... and you should go to bed."

A flash of lightning, a crackling boom, filled the air. Drevon's purple scales blinked under the light. Roland had heard stories of purple dragons and definitely believed them. Heroic, powerful saviours born of prophecy. But, although Drevon had the elements of a purple dragon – fire, earth, ice and lightning – he was anything but heroic and powerful. He was kind and humble, and he enjoyed life without having to worry over if he was some super special dragon. While usually people would remember the face the of a purple dragon, and loathe them, on account of what happened centuries ago, nobody seemed to remember Drevon, despite the festival held in Firemore. It was really only the Guardians that paid him any mind, though they didn't know where he was. People forgot about Drevon and the stories of purple dragons committing heinous acts of evil.

Roland remained confused over his appearance. The purple dragons were destined for greatness, but Drevon seemed as normal as any other resident of Firemore, apart from the shimmering purple scales. Drevon had been brought in, lost on the streets, and ever since had lived peacefully with the rest of them. At least, that was what he told Roland. Roland had been too young to know about the birth of the purple dragon at the time. Only a single year old, back when he lived with his parents.

Roland thought it was pretty nifty they lived with a purple dragon, though. Who would've thought such a powerful dragon would come to their humble guild of thieves?

"Yeah, let's go." Drevon, surprisingly, paced back inside. Roland looked to the red moon once more, but the figure had vanished. He frowned before following him through.

Roland caught up with the purple dragon, and after sharing farewells for the night, he clambered into his bed again, cosy beneath the covers. Whatever the creature had been kept him up for a good few minutes

Abnormal wings, and a shriek that pierced the heavens. It affected Drevon, surely, by the way he shivered. Such a strange little thing soaring amongst the stars, as though peering down upon the landscape. The thought of a freakish creature unknown to him made him uneasy.

"...Eh, maybe some huge bird in the sky isn't too much to worry about."

Did I shock anyone with the surprise DR rewrite? Yes? No? Oh well, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter of Of the Stolen.

Anyway hey there. Now, if you're worried about me at all, you may be thinking, "Demi, why the hell do you have so many unfinished fics? And now you're writing ANOTHER ONE? Also a REWRITE of DRAGON'S RUIN? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Short answer, I'm lazy and project-hop all the time, and after starting yet another fic I'm going to fix that by actually sitting down and planning out my stories, one by one. Don't worry, none of the other fics are just going to fade away like they never happened. They will all be written in due time. Long story short, I am unhappy with what I have done and I'm going to stop project-hopping.

Long answer. Honestly, I haven't been very happy with what I've been doing. I've been exceptionally lazy, haven't put any thought into what I've been doing at all, and have dug myself a pit of unfinished fics. Along with feeling extremely uninspired about my writing, I just haven't been doing much related to it. And, you know, this whole situation is kind of ironic, considering this is what I want to use to kickstart my passion again and that the original Dragon's Ruin was a fic I ended up being very unhappy with and that I lost a lot of inspiration over.

At the same time as being completely uninspired and lazy over my writing, I've taken my first steps into game design, something I'm very passionate about, and have been working on a project for the past two or three months that continues to grow to this day. It's made me completely forget I even had fics to write, that's how much I enjoy it.

Other than that, I have just been lazy in general, and I get tired a lot because I get, like, two hours of sleep at night because I'm an idiot and I go to bed at five o'clock in the morning. I even sort of forgot I even could write decentish stories for a while.

After a while, I did begin to think about my writing again and I've been wondering what I want to do with it. And then I sat down and got lazy again. And then I thought about this. Dragon's Ruin was always a story that I wanted to rewrite and make way better than the original; as much as I hated the writing and the plot points I'd created, I did like the characters I'd produced and I spent many a night thinking about them. I always liked to think about what Roland and Ashlyn would do next, how their relationship would develop, all that jazz.

So I came to the conclusion that I wanted to write this again, and after a few weeks of struggling to get ANYTHING on the page, I decided to actually start properly planning out a story. I've got an outline that continues to expand right now, and it is really helping me right now, not only to solve plot issues and move the story along smoothly, but also for inspiration. Thinking about these characters again, I can't help but feel very inspired because I think they're the best cast of characters I have made. I'm sure people don't care about them as much as I do (and if you do that's funny because DR sucked fite me) but I hope I can create a lovable cast this time around with some proper planning.

And here I am now. I'm still alive and well, I guess. Maybe a little peeved off at myself, but that can be fixed.

As for other news, I'm removing a few of the jokefics from my profile too. Honestly, I think they're cringy, and no I don't want to put them inside a google drive for everyone to look at. They were just a result of me being bored and slamming my head into the keyboard, and aren't really worth anything to me. If you still want to read them before they disappear forever, I'm going to leave them up for another two weeks, but after that no more. Only the Xiranth fic and the one that shan't be named are going to stay up, but I have questions whether I should leave COX up because a long way down the track I do plan on making a legitimate Xiranth canon story. And no, I definitely don't plan on letting my other fics fade away forever. After this, they will be properly written and planned.

Meh. Anyway, again, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this rewrite. I won't project-hop anymore and I'll try my best to stop being a lazy writer. If I do project-hop again, you can murder me.

And sorry for the sloppy pile of words here. I felt I just needed to get this out there and I wrote this without, like, any planning at all, just writing what came to mind. If you have any questions that I haven't answered, simply ask.

And if you didn't read the original DR, or don't care about me, why are you reading this? :P

Thanks, guys, and I hope you enjoy what's to come in Of the Stolen. Don't expect the same story as before if you read DR; much of what you'll find here has been changed, but you can at least expect... Roland, I guess. :P