Chapter 6: Chapter Five: The Savior (Part I)
Aiden didn't pay much attention to the new arrivals as they creep through the winding halls and walkways. They look pensive it through the bars into the cells as if searching for priceless treasures. Aiden catches a whiff of something citrusy and spicy.
'Nerves' His mind supplies him. All humans had a distinct scent when their fight or flight instincts kicked in. As a predator, it was easy to tell they weren't a fierce prey and yet they somehow made pets out of beasts.
The scent tickled his nose as he grunted. It annoyed him how alluring it was. Forcing one of his eyes open, the crystalline, dark blue pupil lazily focused on the shifting It forces him to open one eye only to spot the tailcoats of a Military-issued uniform on the older looking leader, a small man with sharp eyes. Aiden flicked his tongue out as he observed the man from the shadows of his confinement. The man's gaze completely missed his form. Aiden puffed out some steam before shutting his eyes.
There was nothing worth his interests, but he doesn't have time to dwell on these thoughts as the creaking of the door opens and light floods from the main door. Listening quietly, he can make out the buzz of one the electrical collars and the crackle of chains clinking together. The footsteps are heavy (begrudgingly) heading towards his area. It seems Aiden would not be able to meet with the newcomers and the tangy scent he was intrigued by is replaced by the putrid odor of sweat and human musk.
It was the smell of death.
In a fluid motion, Aiden balanced himself on his hind legs as his chains rattled with his movements. In the darkness, the two handlers- a man with a beer belly and a scrawny man- braced themselves for attack, as the predatory blue eyes caught a glimpse Cyan stopping in the middle of the aisle.
Dragons.
Cyan knew Mr. S wouldn't lie about the variety of dragons the Kennels owned. However, this freak show of whimpering masses didn't illicit any casualness to the process. They- whether it was the dragons or the cells, he couldn't tell- had an otherworldly sheen to them. Two hours felt like a long time, but in reality, it became a scrambling internal panic as it was important to thoroughly look at each dragon. It was harder to do when the said dragon was snarling or writhing in fear hiding from plain view. Royce had decided to take a practical approach and examine only the dragons with a yellow-tier or higher. He wasn't looking for a homemaker, he was looking for something that could wreck a home. The glint in his eyes was the same Cyan had seen on the other recruits when they spoke about dragons. Dissecting them with their gazes and explicitly speaking of how female dragons were what they all aimed to get. Cyan would squirm uncomfortably as he listened to his friends spoke about dragons the way someone would speak about meat.
The thought made him disgusted. Walking along the pathway, he aimlessly peeked into different cages. The darkness was unsettling, but the creatures lurking in them were just as so. Chained at the neck, wrists, and ankles, some lunged at him while others shrank back into the wall. Dragons of all different shapes, sizes, and appearances. While most were in their human form, some chose their halfling form as claws scraped against the steel and slit eyes followed his steps before disappearing into the abyss once again.
It was an Northern dragon that caught his eye. Her striking dark red eyes reminded him of burning sunsets. Her short, bob-like haircut was matted as she scratched at a bald spot- probably eaten away by kennel mites- before looking up at him. Cyan reached out a hand through the bars to which she barred her teeth in fear. The hatred in her eyes was apparent. She crouched down on her hands and legs, hissing up at him. Her scales were dull in the light and Cyan tried not to be disappointed at her mottled, green color. Instead, he focused on those wild eyes.
As he moved to check her tier, he saw movement out the corner of his eyes. Within the blink of a second, she lunged at him. White foam erupted from the corners of her mouth as a metal prong jabbed into her side before she could tear into Cyan's arm. He watched her blood-red pupils roll into the back of her head. Stricken with shock, he looked up to Farse glaring down at him fiercely.
"Never let your guard down Blue." His tone wasn't condescending or angry. If Cyan had to guess, it sounded almost sincere or worried. Ignoring that thought, he nodded slowly as Farse slipped his hand around his wrist and pulled the arm out. Like a beast whose lost its mind, the dragon shrieked in pain, clawing at the bottom of the cage. He backed away slightly unnerved.
"She would have made a fine dragon for a yellow-tier." Farse speaks more so to himself than Cyan. Still, the young recruit catches his words.
"What's wrong with her?" He can't help but ask.
Farse doesn't answer back after a few minutes. Finally, he says,
"Madness."
Cyan doesn't push the topic further.
After that, Farse decides to check on Royce's progress leaving Cyan once again to his own devices. Heading towards the back of the place, Cyan examines a red-tier Asian dragon with striking yellow scales that could resemble fire. The pattern of them as they catch the poor lighting is hypnotic drawing him in. With no left arm and a missing horn, the dragon ignores Cyan's presence completely as if it has decided no one shall pick it. He can imagine it was once a magnificent beast floating through the air like the picture books his mother used to show him. In its eyes, there's a somberness that resembles over the grey irises. Cyan moves on after a quiet rebuttal figuring such a delicate-looking creature would not survive long in the war.
Up and down the aisles he went, looking at one dragon after another. Cyan didn't know what to expect when picking a dragon, but he felt there should a connection: something that should strike a chord within him. Maybe he was overthinking this. He would be naïve to look at the veneer of the situation. He wasn't looking for a partner; he was looking for a servant. How did anyone go about these things? The knot in his stomach grew tighter as he glanced at a clock on the wall. They still had a bit of time left: almost a full hour. It's enough time to pick out a dragon. So why was he hesitating? Cyan thought about doubling back to the first dragon he saw: the northern one until he remembered why she wouldn't be suitable. Frowning, he runs his hands over his face. Deep down, Cyan knows he would never be a 'master' to his dragon. He understands the cruelty of this world and being stripped down to nothing: he shares that feeling of utter helplessness.
He knows fear.
He knows pain.
He realizes that most of these dragons only know how to be subservient. There is nothing in their eyes but a whorl of emotions- it is so very human of them. Cyan can not see them as anything other than what he sees other humans: complex creatures.
"Cyan, come look at the beauty I found!" Royce hollers from two aisles over.
Following the sound of his voice, Cyan finds the other man stroking golden blonde locks of tangled hair with interest. It sends a shiver down his spine. The gesture is suggestive in itself whether it is of possession or lust. Cyan would say teasing.
The dragon Royce found is a red-tier eastern dragon. Her delicate features and round eyes give her the blunt appearance of that of one of the lower-tiered dragons: she doesn't look much older than them. Royce coaxes her with sweet nothings as she watches him from the corners of her eyes though it looks like she's staring at the ground. Her name is Temple. Royce declares her name to be something better.
"Fatima." He nods approvingly.
"Not a fighter," Farse comments flatly looking between her and Royce. He doesn't go any further into explaining his thoughts. Cyan was beginning to understand this man. His words were ominous lingering onto hidden meanings. It was somewhat prophetic and irksome. Cyan also doesn't know if he was speaking to Royce or Fatima regarding his comment. From the glint in Royce's lusted eyes, he really only picked Fatima because she was one of the prettiest dragons they'd seen.
Farse yanks Fatima chain as they begin towards the front counter. The remote to her collar hung from his belt swinging like a pendulum, threatening any idea of escape with death. Dragons chosen had to be registered and officially Collared by their owners- a military collar was far more distinguished than the Cages' collar.
Cyan stands in the middle of the aisle fiddling with his jacket. It may be a good idea to come for another visit and clear his head. As he is about to head towards the front, he feels a tingle down his spine.
A soft growl resonates from behind him and Cyan turns his head in its direction.
One could only describe the feeling as drowning. Blue eyes that were dark as they were mysterious reminding him of an ocean. Clique as it sounds, this ocean was nothing like the ones he read in stories. It was shrouded by the worst storms and so violent that sailors dared not venture too far. An ocean so infamous it could not be conquered or explored: it was wild and dangerous and untamed. Cyan couldn't imagine ever subduing such a beautiful thing to begin with.
Cyan grew startled because those eyes rested on him and it ached to look away. He creeps a but closer before doing around the corner when he hears the clinking of the gates of the cage as two handlers block his view. Their silhouetted figures give way to no details of the creature that refuses to leave his confines. Since this area is darker, Cyan's eyes are slower to adjust and he tries to move along the empty cages concealing himself to watch. Ducking behind a crate a few feet away, he glances at the men. They each carried a electric prong on their belts and a metal lease in their hands as a precaution. It seemed unnecessary but judging by the strange shift in the mannerisms of the dragons nearby, he can only imagine what kind of creature lies beyond. It's silent. So quiet a needle could drop and echo through the place. The restless shifting of wings and agitated hisses are stifled as glittering eyes disappear behind folded wings.
This only fuels Cyan's morbid curiosity giving him the child-like boldness to stand up to his full height. He stumbles up to the black line that is partially faded against the light cement. Beyond that point, he dare not crosses. Trying to catch a glimpse of the dragon inside the cage proves futile. Its kennel is larger than the others around it. The chains are as thick as they are wide suggesting this is no ordinary dragon. The most distinct difference is that there is no lock on this kennel: it had a keypad. The slight hum of the electrical bars makes Cyan wince as he smells burning flesh and the creature beyond growls in turmoil.
Cyan doesn't make a sound as he catches glimpses of glittering eyes of unnatural hues and snarls from beyond as the creature struggles against containment. He can feel the heat of eyes pricing into the back of his neck as the other dragons watch anxiously. No human has gotten this close to the monster and they dare not make a sound now. Cyan's heart pounds against his chest in anticipation as he bites his bottom lip.
Was this how a deer felt when being stalked down by a wolf?
With this impression in mind, it didn't matter that pounds of steel separated them. Collared or Kenneled, he could feel death stroking his cheek.
It was exhilarating as it was frightening. There was no name for how he felt and he didn't dwell on acknowledging what the strange hum in his veins meant whenever the dragon's eyes locked with his (even if he was unaware of this).
His body shook as it brimmed with anxious energy when the two handlers spotted him. However, they only smirked as if amused by his antics. Recognizing the same face very few wore yet they had seen countless times, they wrote it off as another 'fresh out of school cadet with no real experience'. It would be a good lesson for the boy. The bigger man stepped forward towards the kennel and began to type in the code. The echo of the buttons was not nearly as crisp as the sound of unlocking. His soft voice carried a familiarity to it.
"Always fun to have an audience." His accented voice said.
His head turned slightly to address Cyan, who was fully standing in front of the crate now. The lad took a moment before his mouth formed an 'o' with understanding.
Cyan felt his face flush as the man addressed his presence. The dragon inside didn't make a sound as the handler continued to talk. Between the silver bars, he saw drift movements and the gleam of eloquent black horns that could equally give a weird a run for its money.
"A noble Western dragon." The second handler spoke.
Cyan perked up at this information. Western dragons were rare and fairly thought to be extinct. Not to be mixed with their watered down cousin, the Standard Western, a pure Western was its own creature. Not as big as a Northern or elegant as an Eastern dragon, the Western was baleful. The novelty of any other dragon he had seen previously quickly wore off. Western dragons were not the ideal type for war as they were bilious to deal with and since the turning of the second decade, none had been recorded in the archives to be used for the fighting. Cyan caught another glimpse of the trademark pallid skin coupled with the piercing blue eyes that blinked once before closing again. Westerns were known to have a variety of colors but the most comely ones had very distinct patterns based on their elemental roots. By the cerulean scaling, he spotted on the underbelly of the tale, he knows this dragon had have an ice or water-based root.
Cyan hums at the man's declaration.
"What shall become of it?" he asks, hoping they'll say it'll be auctioned. If anything, his army pension can cover the price of out bidding any one who comes. However, fortune is not with him today as the burly handler shakes his head with a sigh.
"Unfortunately lass, this one is a goner. It's the chopping block for him and then the auction row."
"Interested in it's horns?" the scrawny handler asks with a smile that could curdle dairy.
Cyan frowns at this. Clenching his fist, he doesn't get time to respond as the burly man steps forward to unhook a chain. His heavily leather- clad hands yank hard at the metal making it rattle against the floor as a low hiss comes from within. Tendrils of icy steam erupt from the shadows wrapping itself around Cyan making him shiver.
"This one ain't right for nobody and is better off as a leather bag or boots than to be anybody's." The first handler drawls in a lazy tone though his words are hard with hatred.
A concomitant snarl rumbles from beyond the threshold at these words. Cyan reflexively jumps at the sound, but he doesn't dare move now. Standing firm, he wants to see this creature for himself. Standing behind the red line on the floor, he's in a saw zone- far away from the dragon and able to run if need be, but close enough to still see. The clink clink sound of the chains dragging against the floor don't settle his nerves no matter how much his mind supplies that the handlers are professionals and won't let anything bad happen. The bestial sounds accompanied the commands of the handlers as they shouted at Cyan.
"Get back lass!"
He didn't listen to them.
The sound alerted Farse and Royce. Both men wandered over and Farse barked at Cyan which fell on deaf ears. All his senses were hyper-focused on what was about to come out of the kennel. Feeling a heavy hand clasp his shoulder and yank him back, Cyan fought against being it. The handlers struggled to get the creature out. Cussing in a language he did not know, Cyan pulled away from the lieutenant trying to see.
"Blue this is an order, " the lieutenant started, as he turned the fellow towards him and stared the young man in the eyes. "Stand down and go back down the hall."
Defiance danced in those luminous eyes- one a cyan color and the other a cool grey complimenting each other perfectly. Caught off-guard by this, Farse expression faltered for a moment. The grip on his shoulder loosened and Cyan slipped from his grasp like water through his hands.
The handlers tugged and shouted. Farse began to scream at him. Looking back at the kennel, Cyan expected to see a Monster. The icy, pale smoke, the strident roars, and the shadow of it erupted from the darkness like a nightmare. Cyan didn't realize he was holding his breath as the handlers brought it forth into the light.
There was nothing more abject than what he was facing…
Terrifying.
Deadly.
Feral.
And yet, it was effulgent- a beauty one can only describe as ethereal.
Aiden bared his teeth at all the world to see, searching for the look of invidious and heartlessness of the humans witnessing his death, only to find a little soldier standing there: his gaze filled, not with hate or disgust or superiority, but with unveiled awe.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Emmy_a_Gemmy
Emmy_a_Gemmy I have been super busy, but I am taking more time out to write chapters more in advance. I'm so happy to see more readers and feedback.
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