Her Shattered Memories
'Who am I?'
It was a question she'd constantly asked herself. Who was she supposed to be? She'd once felt special because of her colour – or the lack thereof – and more so because of her unique element. But after three years of sitting in an orphanage, nothing to her name, hardly a friend but Daine, she felt miserable. Lonely. Like an outcast. She couldn't help but wonder why she was seemingly so special.
That wasn't to say the people of Shimmervale despised her; she noticed most were relatively relaxed whilst pacing around her. It was just that not many kept in contact with her, and she'd been rejected far too many times. Couldn't she be normal like every other dragon? The Guardians of Shimmervale were too stubborn to even let her train in their temple, too afraid of the havoc she might cause with such dark energy, as they'd put it. Truth be told, she really couldn't use it effectively enough to cause any damage.
"I'm sure you'll find out more about yourself later, Keiran."
She turned to Daine, standing inside the doorway to her little room. She buried her face in her bed – a basket of colourful pillows in the corner – and groaned. "I hope I will too, but you say that every time."
"That's because it's true," he said, walking back into her room. He knelt down beside her, a tiny smile curling his mouth. "You've got a great deal more life left than you might think. You've got all that time to figure it out."
Keiran glanced at him, but kept her jaw to the bed. She scratched at one of the pillows. "Yeah... I just wish it would come now."
"I wish a lot of things would happen now." Daine stood and looked out the door. The owner of the orphanage, Gail, was pacing by her room right now. He kept quiet until she was gone, his tone a bit softer. "I wish I could find my sis. I wish Jasper could come back... Yeah, you get what I mean. You've just gotta wait and work hard for the things you want, and... you'll eventually get 'em.
Daine had told her many a time of what happened back at the Mountain of Malefor, how he and Jasper found her encased in a time crystal. For no reason at all, he'd always told it from Jasper's point of view and not his own. There was, however, something magical about him telling it that way; it felt like she was being read a storybook, no matter how personal it was to Daine. He must've cut his losses since then.
"A bit hard when you have no idea how to work for them," she muttered. "I could travel, but... I'm pretty sure I'd just die out there anyway."
A low laugh escaped her maw and Daine shook his head. "Heh, you think about it. I've gotta get going. Duty calls."
"What? Already?"
"Yep. Look at the time." He directed her attention to the little analogue clock on one of her shelves. She sighed when she saw the position of the hands – by the looks of things, the eighth hour was about to pass. They were both running late. "See you later, Keiran."
He paced out the door, grabbing his trusty blade leaning against the wall on his way out, and shut it, leaving Keiran in silence. His job as a guard kept him particularly busy, and he didn't have much time to spare. Whatever time he did have left was usually spent with Keiran or for sleeping. She didn't mind. He was fun to talk to most of the time.
She had to get moving too. The breakfast hall was probably almost cleared of food now; the other children here, all younger than her, were ravenous when it came to the meals Gail produced. Her cooking was divine.
The thought of biting into one of her crunchy apple tarts got her smiling. She jumped off the bed, and in a slightly better mood, she headed towards the shelf.
Before she decided to go out everyday, she checked herself in a small white mirror atop the shelf she kept the clock on. Everything seemed fine – her black scales were polished enough and her silver underbelly could've been in better condition, but she could make do with her suboptimal appearance. The one row of slightly curled horns above her head shined faintly, and her deep silver eyes (arguably her best feature) were just as they always had been. Nothing had changed in the slightest; she still had four legs and a wingspan somewhat shorter than the average dragon her age, and the silver rune that marked her right forepaw, as white as snowfall, was still carved into her scales.
She had no idea what the rune was supposed to be – or if it was even a rune at all – but it hadn't bothered her, so she paid it no mind. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she headed down the hallway and the staircase.
A long, elegant table was positioned in the middle of the hall, half eaten meals sprawled haphazardly across it. Cosy light poured in through an arched window on either side of the wall; for a winter day, it was surprisingly warm. Around that table, multiple dragons, a singular mole, and a few felines were sitting down, digging in. It seemed every meal was taken, but that didn't worry her. Gail usually made extras for sleepyheads. She just wasn't fond of distracting her more than the orphanage already did.
"Oh, Keiran," Gail grabbed her attention. She looked the larger pale blue dragon up and down ashamedly. "Late again, are we?"
"Um... Yeah, Miss." Keiran bowed her head. "Sorry. Me and Daine lost track of time. Again."
Gail's gleeful giggle filled the room in which they stood. "It's okay. He likes you too much. Come and sit down; I'll get something quick for you."
Keiran did as she was asked, plopping herself down by the table. It was low enough for her and the other children to eat off of, but not short enough as to stop a chair from being pulled into it. The youngest, the mole, needed a short stool, being only five years old. To Keiran, a lot of things about the orphanage were perfect, and for the most part she'd enjoyed her time there.
The only thing she was missing was, again, who she was. Every other dragon had at least some colour to their scales, and their element was usually in relation to that – generally one of the big four: fire, ice, earth, and electricity. But her scales were dark, abnormal, and her powers mysterious. She'd never heard of anyone but the Terror of the Skies, Cynder, using the shadows to cause hurt, during the war and after the war, when she was finally freed from Malefor's influence.
She didn't want to be the Dark Master's next puppet. Even if he was long dead at this point, that thought had always unnerved her.
"Here we are, Keiran." Gail paced over, three-legged, snapping Keiran from her thoughts. She was difficult to hear over the noise the other children were producing. "One tart. Reheated because... I don't have the time today. Sorry about that."
"It's okay, Miss." She gratefully took the meal from Gail's outstretched paw, placing it on the table. "It'll still taste just as good."
Gail smiled delightfully and walked off to the left, where a much smaller classroom lay. The orphanage provided basic education, and as useless as she was at doing mathematics, she loved learning new things.
Keiran tapped her tart with a claw. Its apple centre was firm, but it happily bounced up and down, and she could see her reflection in the tart, black scales and all. The more she did this, though, the more she realised she wasn't in the mood to eat anymore. She was too busy with her thoughts.
She moved her breakfast to the side, lay her forepaws on the table, and rest her jaw atop them. This happened to her a lot. She might've gotten up feeling good, but by the time she was downstairs and at the table, gazing into her meal, her unhappiness took over again.
Again, that question plagued her adolescent mind.
'Who am I?'
She really needed to know. It kept bugging her. The other kids were either too young to understand what had happened to their parents, or had merely accepted that fact and made do with that they had. She could never feel the same. Why?
Keiran felt like she needed to leave. Leave the orphanage and Shimmervale behind, and head into the vast wilderness outside.
She often said it as a joke to Daine, and she'd even explained where she would go first if she did actually end up going. But she'd seriously considered it before. It was probably the only way to stop feeling horrible and to fill the holes in her shattered past.
But she'd be leaving Daine behind. He couldn't go with her. He'd just take her back to the orphanage, and she'd probably end up being lectured by Gail. Having to go without him would be troubling, though. Would she make it far without Daine? Last time she was outside the city, when Jasper and the feline had smashed her time crystal, she'd been carried half of the way to Warfang, hardly able to stand on her four legs. And even after that, she'd almost been killed by a death hound attack...
She was a little stronger now, right? She could take care of herself, and if problems arose, she could use her powers to scare off wild animals and things.
Maybe she could just...
"Food fight!"
She immediately spun around and looked to the speaker: a little red cheetah. An apple tart narrowly missed her, Gail's fantastic work splattering all over the polished floorboards. Gathering her bearings, she dove into the floor before another could fly by, darkness enveloping her form at once.
Havoc ensued. Wherever Keiran looked from beneath the floorboards, smashed foodstuffs lay in pieces, the work and effort the owner of the orphanage had put into the little breakfast feast ruined. This was, surprisingly, the worst she'd seen the other kids, and she couldn't begin to fathom how it began. She couldn't keep herself hidden forever, unfortunately. Melding the shadows this way, in this daylight, was terribly draining.
As quickly as she'd gone under, she bounced back up, not able to hold herself in the state. More tarts and a slice of pink cake from yesterday were instantly upon her. She tried to run, grabbing her tart in the process, now desiring to eat at least something before it was all gone, but she wasn't quick enough, and found her obsidian black scales decorated in icing.
A loud bang and crack frightened her. She looked to the window on the right wall, and before she could realise what the red cheetah had done, the window was reduced to nothing.
"That is enough!"
The fighting came to a sudden standstill. Keiran couldn't help but mentally thank Gail. Her stare petrified all that looked back.
"What in Baara's name are you all doing?" Her voice lowered, but she kept that same tone of authority. She glanced around the room, and when she saw the once beautiful pane in fragments, she looked about to faint. "You... Who broke the window?"
One of the cheetah group spoke up. "It was Keiran, Miss. She did it!"
Keiran quickly turned her eyes to the cheetah, her maw agape, eyes narrowed. "W-Wha-"
"Keiran!" The adult stared directly at her. "How could you? I thought you were more mature than this... Did you start the fight as well?"
"N-No!" she yelled. "I didn't start anything; I was trying to escape!"
"And where's your proof?"
She would've spoken up, but she had nothing to back up her claim, no matter how truthful she was being. She'd been framed and there was no getting out of it.
"You're covered in cake and you're holding the tart I heated up for you this morning a few minutes ago!" Gail exhaled angrily. "In my office. Now."
"Wait, n-"
"Now, Keiran!"
Keiran shuddered at how aggressive she'd gotten. The other children were shook, unable to say a word. They looked at her, and they seemed as if they were trying to be a little compassionate. She didn't care, though. Not by a long shot.
Shooting them a hostile glare Gail wouldn't see, she walked up to her, studying the floorboards. She didn't dare look into those blue, assertive eyes of hers. When she was incensed they were like knives boring themselves deep into their target.
"Now, come," Gail said. "Let's see what we can do about this predicament..."
