Author's Note: Theme #56.


Not Human.

She'd never actually claimed that she was human; she'd just… never quite said that she wasn't. It's not like she was trying to keep it a secret or anything, but in all the getting-to-know-yous of moving into a new town and starting a new business, somehow 'I'm a dragon' had just never come up in conversation. It was… a bit awkward and hard to lead up to. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't a big, scaly deal; that after people got to know her they wouldn't care what species she was.

Well, it had come out piece by piece. She had a sort of intuition that was hard to miss and they couldn't help but notice that she seemed a little too well-informed about what kind of weather would be heading their way and who would be sick in the future. That was their first tip off that there was something supernatural about her. They knew she was stronger than a woman her size ought to be, easily lifting large vases and heavy maces that not even the strongest men in their village could budge. Then Jon Calk spread it around that her hat had slipped when she'd reached down to pick up the vase he'd gone to buy and that he'd seen that she had pointed ears. Whispers followed that their mysterious resident might be an elf maiden. But, in a fit of temper, the appearance of her tail had spelled things out once and for all to them. They knew. And they weren't pleased.

She should've known trouble was brewing when they'd been wary of Jillas and Gravos helping her out. She'd tried to tell herself that they weren't bad people—just fearful. It wasn't completely out of the ordinary for beastmen tribes to raid the nearby villages when they couldn't find food. She told herself that they'd learn soon enough that Jillas and Gravos weren't anything to be afraid of…

But no. It was all over now. She'd heard the talk, seen the fear on their faces. The whole town reeked of it. 'Who will protect our children?', 'They can breathe fire, you know!', 'Who's to say she's not here to make war with us?' and 'If we don't do something about her for good, she'll seek her vengeance upon us!' She could feel terror, the said-terror and the unsaid-terror. Her skin itched with it.

And there was no fooling herself or making excuses anymore. Jillas had run back to the shop from the town square that night to report that the villagers were holding a meeting—and it didn't look good. That was when she knew that they had to leave, and fast.

She and Gravos gathered up as much of their merchandise as they could carry. A lot of it would have to be left behind, she realized, but they'd have to take the loss. Jillas, however, carried the most precious cargo of all: the egg containing the reborn Val. Her son.

She dimmed the lamps and nodded to her two beastmen determinedly. Without a sound they crept out the back way of the building that made up their home and their shop. She closed the door behind them knowing that she'd never enter it again.

Then the three of them hiked down the dirt slope at the back of the house, careful not to drop anything that they were carrying or trip in the darkness. Filia had decided quickly that they'd better walk instead of having her fly them away. The villagers had skilled archers and, seeing her in flight, she was sure that they'd use them. She wouldn't be worried for herself if it came to that, but her passengers…

They hadn't gotten more than a few yards away from the house when a glow from behind them forced them to turn around. Filia stifled a gasp. They were there… already. All the men and many of the women of the village were tromping up to her house with torches in hand, chins set determinedly and eyes dancing madly in the flames.

She froze, unsure of what to do. If they made a run for it now, the villagers would surely see the movement and chase them. Loaded down as they were, they wouldn't be able to move very fast. On the other hand, if they stayed where they were and the mob torched her house, they'd easily be spotted in the light. Either way…

If it came to a fight, she could win. But… she did not want to be the thing that struck terror into these villagers' hearts—even if they drove her to it.

"Boss?" Jillas whispered uncertainly.

Filia held up a finger to her lips. Maybe if they were lucky the mob would go inside the house and then they'd be able to…

"You've come to the wrong place," a mild voice said.

Filia bit down on her lip to keep sound from escaping. Xellos was there. He hadn't so much appeared on her porch as stepped out of the shadows like he'd always been there.

The leader of the mob, a man with a coarse, grey beard that took up most of his face, held up his torch to better see the man (or monster, as the case may be) who had addressed him. He scowled. "Aren't you a friend of that blasted dragon? There's no use trying to hide her! We've seen her for the beast she really is!"

"Oh, I don't think anyone could mistake us for friends," Xellos commented in a chillingly light-hearted voice. "And quite the contrary, I've been on to her tricks long before you. The fact is, she's already left—trying to escape on foot."

Filia made frantic eye-contact with Jillas. She'd told him that if push came to shove and she had to fight the villagers, to run away as fast as he could to protect Val. And now, just because that monster was set on destroying everything she sought to build, she'd have to…

"Where is she?" the leader of the mob growled as the torch-waving group grumbled amongst themselves.

"There's no need to be anxious," Xellos tutted. He pointed north across Blackfield Street with his staff. "There. She's got a head start, but if you hurry you might just be able to catch her."

The bloodlust-fueled mob did not need to be told twice. They did an about-face and squeezed their party of maniacs down the narrow street, accidentally burning the hair of the people in front of them along the way, but with a few cries and the smell of burnt skin, they set out on the dragon's tail.

…By going in the exact opposite direction as where she was standing.

Filia sagged with relief. It was only then that she felt the ache in her jaw and unclenched her teeth. She didn't know what to think and could barely command her own body to take her chance and move, guiding Gravos and Jillas back on their silent retreat from the village.

She glanced over her shoulder at her porch one last time, but Xellos was already gone.


Several hours later they rested in a forest clearing. They were all bone-weary long before then, but Filia had refused to stop until they had left substantial distance between them and the village. Even now, she only wanted to stop for a few hours so that Gravos and Jillas could get some sleep while she kept watch. Who could say when the villagers would realize they'd been duped and turn around?

She warmed her hands against the fire she'd built while Gravos snored lightly and Jillas's tail wagged in his sleep. They could almost pretend they were camping if it weren't for the paralyzing fear of getting hunted down like animals.

"I must say, I thought that was a very disappointing mob," Xellos commented before appearing across from her.

Filia withdrew her hands from the fire and glared at him. She was angry with him, base-line because he was Xellos and Xellos was someone to be angry at. She was more angry because he'd scared her out of her wits earlier and had probably done it on purpose too. Yet, it was also because of him that they'd managed to send the villagers astray and escape them. …That probably made her the angriest of all, but it kept her tirade in check.

"Not even a single pitchfork," Xellos added, shaking his head as though unable to believe how low standards had sunk in the mob game. "A mob without farm equipment has lost its soul."

"What are you, a connoisseur of angry mobs or something?" Filia snapped.

Xellos shrugged. "I suppose you could say that. I've seen a lot of them."

"Gotten chased by them?" Filia asked snidely. "No," she snorted. Mobs should chase monsters, but they never do—only things that look like monsters. "You probably incite them."

"I prefer to think of it as redirecting their negative energies and channeling them toward more productive activities," Xellos answered with a smile.

Filia scowled. Miss Lina was right; Xellos should've been a politician.

"So why didn't you 'redirect their negative energies' toward me?" she asked irritably. "You would've enjoyed that, wouldn't you?"

"I always enjoy seeing you set fire to entire towns and then trample them," he answered serenely. "But I opted for a more prudent course of action in this case."

"Hmmph!" was her only response.

The fire crackled and popped loudly as a bit of kindling burned all the way through and shattered into two halves.

"So… where are you headed to now, Filia?" Xellos asked.

Filia opened her mouth to say something but found that she had nothing to say. She closed it, crossed her arms and finally said: "It's none of a monster's business where I go."

"Meaning you don't know," Xellos summed up neatly.

Filia grimaced and turned her nose up at him. "Well in case you hadn't noticed, I was in a bit of a hurry!"

"Of course," Xellos allowed. "You were more concerned with getting away then going anywhere. Though now that you've gotten this far, I'd say it's time to give the matter some thought."

"I don't need advice from you," Filia retorted, though she was damned if she could think of a way not to follow his advice… unless she took up a nomadic lifestyle, but that really didn't appeal to her that much anymore.

"I suppose you could always go to one of the other dragon temples," Xellos mused, unable to grasp the notion that his guidance was not welcome.

Filia sucked in a hasty breath. "Never," she said.

"That down on organized religion nowadays, are you?" He sounded a little too pleased.

"It's not that," Filia glowered at him. "It's just… I swore I wouldn't go back there after what I found out. …And anyway," she said, nodding at Val's egg where it lay wrapped in Jillas's cloak, "I couldn't trust them with Val."

"I suppose it would be a little too much to ask for them to learn a lesson," Xellos said with a little sigh. "Ah well. Then, since the humans have kicked you out and you won't go back to the dragons, I guess the only option left is to throw your lot in with the monster race," he decided gleefully.

Filia fell over backwards and stayed down for a solid five seconds. By the time she picked herself up off the ground her glare of death, doom, and other icky things was firmly in place. "You shouldn't even joke about something like that!"

"Ah, but Filia," he chided, wagging a finger at her, "you must admit that someone of your talent and predilection could be legitimately useful to the monster race."

"I don't want to be useful to you demons!" she shot back. Where did he get off questioning her predilections? None of them were monstrous as far as she was concerned! …Well… except for when someone tried her patience while she was holding a bludgeoning implement. But that was righteous fury and therefore shouldn't be counted. "I'd rather stay holed up alone in a cave my whole life than mix with the likes of you!"

Xellos lowered the Almighty Finger of Admonishment (yes, it's deserving of capital letters) and looked mildly disappointed. "Ah well," he said. "I don't really have the authority to make that kind of invitation anyway, I suppose."

He looked a little glum for a moment, but suddenly his spirits seemed to improve. "So, I'm guessing you'll be looking for a cave to live in, then?" he asked brightly.

"Hardly," Filia answered. "I've already decided. I'm going to a new town and trying again."

Xellos raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Because you enjoyed fleeing from an angry mob so much that you thought you'd try it a second time?"

"It'll be different this time!" Filia snapped.

"How?" Xellos asked flatly.

"Well... you don't know!" Filia struggled, trying to put her hope for a brighter future among humans into words. "Maybe the next town will have a more accepting population. And I think I'll let them know right away that I'm a dragon. I think part of the problem last time was that they thought I was hiding it to do them harm."

"That's an excellent idea," Xellos gushed. "Then you'll be driven out right away and won't have to worry about having formed attachments to a place."

"It'll work this time," Filia insisted. "Or next time," she admitted. "Or some time. But we'll find a place for us."

"Well," Xellos admitted hesitantly, "you don't really have any other options since you've snootily shot down both my all-too-generous invitation and the prospect of cave-dwelling."

He leaned his chin in his hand pensively and a funny thought seemed to strike him. "I suppose the human race is the last vestige of hope for community among the outcasts, rejects and oddballs of the world's species," he said, tilting his head toward her and her family of outcasts, rejects and oddballs.

"Then that must be why you spend so much time with Miss Lina and her friends," Filia replied loftily.

That one hit him between the eyes. "Oh really?" he asked, patience a little strained. "And what makes you think I'm an oddball?"

"Well, just look at you," Filia said as though it was self-evident.

Xellos treated her to his 'I just swallowed a bug' smile. He probably wasn't aware, but whenever he was annoyed his hair seemed to react to humidity more than normal.

"Oh, well thank you ever so much for that lovely invitation into your family of outcasts," Xellos said, voice thronging with bittersweetness.

"I wasn't inviting you!" Filia said crossly. "Just because you're weird even for a monster doesn't mean you should get to stay with me."

"Ah, but Filia, shouldn't someone in your position be a little more accepting?" he asked.

"No," she decided instantly. "Why don't you just go back to bothering Miss Lina and leave me alone?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"But Miss Lina's not as fun as you," he simpered.

She made an exasperated sound. "The meaning of my existence is not to make fun for you!"

"Well, perhaps not the sole meaning," he allowed playfully.

If she'd scowled at him any harder her eyebrows would've switched sides. "I don't know what you've been led to think, but you are not the center of the universe," she glowered, and, because he looked like he was about to make a comment, she added: "or the center of my universe."

"Well… I suppose not exactly," Xellos agreed reluctantly. "We just sort of," he twirled a finger around in the air absentminded, "orbit around each other."

Filia was not sure whether to shout at him, turn away from him, or, oddly enough, blush at him. Instead she just muttered something about egomaniac demons and stoked the fire.

Xellos watched her pile more fuel onto the fire and let out a sigh that sounded very satisfied indeed. "So," he asked, "what town were you planning on getting run out of next?" he asked.

Filia began idly stripping the bark off of a spare twig for want of anything better to do. "I haven't decided yet," she answered, not giving his opinion of her prospects the dignity of a response. "I think… maybe I'll stop by Seyruun first and visit Miss Amelia. I've wanted to visit her for awhile and this seems like the perfect time."

"Quite perfect," Xellos agreed. "Having lost most of your merchandise, you'll need something of an advance before you can plunk anything down on a new shop to recoup your losses. And someone as stubbornly good-natured as Miss Amelia is the perfect person to ask for a loan," he added in his you-silly-dragon-your-motives-are-laid-bare-before-me voice.

"Which I would pay back," she shot back a little too quickly.

"Of course you would," Xellos humored her. "Now," he said, leaning back on his hands and nodding at her sleeping companions, "don't you think you ought to get some sleep too? Seyruun is a fair distance away, even if you fly, and I've seen you without the benefit of tea in the morning. It's not a pretty sight."

Filia scowled at him again, but it was half-hearted. The truth was she was exhausted. Arguing with Xellos had perked her up, as it always did for some strange reason, but she was running out of credit with her body and the suggestion of sleep sounded like a good one… even though it was from Xellos.

She curled up in the grass with her back turned to him and tried to make herself comfortable with just her hat for a pillow. "You'd better keep a good watch," she warned him sternly.

"I always do," he said quietly.

And so Filia drifted off to sleep, blanketed in the warm glow of the fire as the priest sitting across from her drummed his fingers against the turf to a patient rhythm that she did not recognize. And though for miles around them the infuriated villagers searched the forest and paths until their torches burnt out, they never found the circle of firelight where the non-humans lay.