Smile. Smile and remember even in the ugliest scene, the actor has to look their best for the audience, even if unseen. Because that's all this was, a crude act of Shakespearean nature to please those hungry eyes. An act of an act, done over and over, practiced to the point perfection was failure. And even then, remember to smile. Because he may not be the hero, the protagonist, the one they cheer for completely, but the script needed the villain, the audience cried for a character to jeer and jest, a fool to mock, a puppet to hate and the lights would not turn to him lest the role was in his name. But what did it matter really? Who he played? Blood was never spilled upon the stage, and smoke was not without mirrors as he gave his devotion to the scene. An actor hurts for his art they say, but this was blissful really. There was no pain, not even happiness, just lovely numbness flooding his senses, wonderful darkness dulling his senses to the deafening roar of the audience as they whooped and called this scene. And should there ever be drafted another play of this revered script, they'd be hurried to add the inner monologue running through his head. The thoughts of dying, not his, but another's, yet the voice was his and the words were his. And he should not be so quick, one's pride is quick to berate. This wasn't his ending, just the climax, the scene that changed the rest of the story. This was far from the end, but at the end, he was exhausted.

Because, the thing was, every play has an interval to allow the actors to rest. To recollect, to pull themselves out of the character. And when the curtains were drawn and the audience quietened down, the lights turned away, the cameras stopped rolling and the backdrop fell away and crumpled into oblivion, he tilted his head up and stared up at his fellow cast members. Still caught in a role. He sees the prop he's brandished and used to masterful effect, discarded, useless and cast away. And he wants to open his mouth, tell them it wasn't good enough, that they'd do better next time. Because he never found the right note to end it on, he was never satisfied, but in the end he saw that his fellow cast members were too caught up in their roles and before he knew it, the curtains had lifted and the lights brought back to them. That wasn't right.

They made a mistake, he hadn't rehearsed yet. It was wrong, no one came to reset the props. They were misled, the scene was meant to change now. Cut it, his actors were confusing. Stop it, he wasn't ready. No, he didn't remember this in the script...the cue cards, the signals, they're all staring at him with eyes wide and burning because he can't perform the classic they know by heart.

Useless He messed up every role. Puppet The directors, he only did as he was told. Improvisation, that was too hard now. Falling back into the play, he was trying. Those eyes, those eyes were so distracting. That fear, the desire of another to steal the limelight and force the audience to focus on their own story. Jealousy, that was what was it. This had been planned in whispers behind his back like tempered daggers. They plotted to steal his part, to write out his part in the play. Well, he'd show them the true skill of an actor, he refused to be left out.

"Father, please don't do this." Softly. He could commend them, the fear, the hate, it was almost believable, but he loses himself into the character and pounces forward, claws outstretched, insides spilling.

---

Just the two of them and Ferrum feels the need to shelter him all the same. Such soft fragile skin, a territory marked upon him as the taller shifted from his side and rolled over onto him. Covering him like a mother tiger and her one cub, protecting him from the world outside their soft bed, anything other than warm hands and gentle touches he would not allow. Nuzzling the top of his head, lazily, he would not move far from the other anytime soon.

Charon grinned like a Cheshire cat as the iron dragon spread on him. Ferrum was bursting with muscle, and his skin was rough in some places. Hundreds of battles left white scars all over his body, those that not even a dragon could hide. Giggling incoherently, he traced the scars on the other male. It was like a treasure hunt, his hands searching every nook and cranny for the barely visible stripes of white. He could feel a slight depression, as well, like the skin wouldn't quite heal correctly. Curious, the hydra found one on the dragon's neck and precariously inched his head up. Feeling his tongue dart out to wet his lips, Charon slowly lapped at the scar. Becoming more comfortable, the Hydra of Lust latched onto the ancient wound, nibbling softly, trying to elicit a giggle from the grumpier hypnotized dragon. Violet eyes blinked confusedly as he felt his skin heat up.

What going on? Why feel so... happy..? Sighing happily, his hands snaked onto the dragon's bare back, feeling for any sensitive spots. The pet didn't know how, but something in him let him know where Ferrum's ticklish spots were. Instinct? He didn't have the capacity to remember that centuries of experience made him no stranger to these types of things. Tickling the rough male, the hydra giggled even more, then met their lips together. He loved his Fer-rum.
---
Every biological alert system he had screamed to run. Code red meant danger. Growling viciously, Skylark suddenly turned around, grabbed his brother from the back and began running, until his feet no longer touched the ground. They needed to get away, they needed to- screaming in alarm, Skylark wondered where the ground had gone. Burying his face into the nook of his brother's neck, the young dragon closed his eyes as they soared in the contained area.

Like the lazy lion head, Ferrum let the energetic little cub crawl and nip and touch all over him. Content to have these teasing touches, these jovial attempts to get him to react. They were pleasant and this was bliss as he lay, letting the shorter explore his body as he pleased, content until the kit's hands trailed into unchartered territory. Rather than shiver and laugh as one might want to do feeling another's hands trace across the sensitivities in their anatomy, the thick skinned dragon growled; the sound rumbling deep in his chest, but was truly playful in nature before he turned over and rolled the playful kit back under him. Crawling over him in a mock play fight, as if challenging him for daring to touch and tickle with his mouth and hands. He loved his little Char's playfulness, loved the innocence that he still found in those acts and shows, but he sought to give the man a little bit of his own medicine back. Still, he could not resist the purse of his lips, addicted to the softness, the way it curved to smile against his own. Not far into a sweet soft compliance of lips, Ferrum pulled back and proceeded to match the smaller's earlier teasing, pressing his lips against the side of his neck and feeling the laughter and sweetness bubble in his throat as he purred another deep growl against his throat. Playing their little game by taking his turn to run his hands over the man's torso and flesh.

There weren't many scars to trace, not on Charon's skin, but Ferrum made do, battle scarred fingers running down the smooth skin in his best attempt to find some new sensation or texture to touch and tease. And of course, there were the fresher wounds, like the one cut into his side, only just stitched and healing over. Those men, those people he didn't know. He didn't like them cutting into his Char, didn't like them hurting him, but.. well, he did his best to soothe the wounds, but he dare not let his fingers trace that area now. He didn't want to hurt his little kit.

---

Sleipnir wanted this all to be a dream, even a nightmare was better if he knew he was going to wake up from it. Now more than ever, he wanted his Daddy and his Father. He wanted them like they were when he first managed to crack the top of his shell, when he took his first nap with Daddy reading them stories. He wanted to wake up crying into their arms, not here holding onto Skylark for dear life as he buried his face against his shoulder and refused to look. Shaking his head, trembling really as the sounds colored his imagination. That was enough, it was all enough, he didn't want to see these things anymore. Around him arose puffs of black smoke, curling and weaving through the air like a protective shield. Susceptible even to the slightest breeze, it wafted behind them when Skylark yanked him backwards, running nowhere. Maybe deeper into this nightmare.

There was darkness, then his brother screaming right next to his ear and the feeling of his body pressed up tightly to his in a hug that he tried to return before he felt his arms being nearly yanked out from his socket and the ground pulled out from under him. He still didn't dare open his eyes as he felt the wind whistle past him and his brother yell louder.

Like flies in a bottle, they had nowhere to really go.
----
Dirty tricks, pulling out this unplanned scene. Crediting his failure, they made it looked like he had deviated from the script whilst they pulled their hidden aces and spades and left their fellow actor floundering like a fool. In front of the audience, was it his shock or his character's remorse as the two soared into the audience's hearts? Faulty, faulty gadgetry they'd given him, useless tools he could not follow up with. But as an actor, he knew not to push it, not to further this scene lest he face further embarrassment by the callous rapturous crowd. With grace, he had to exit, but not without a scowl in his heart as poisonous fumes tried to contaminate his lungs. Perhaps a chest cold, but that wouldn't stop him from at least making a grand exit. Pulling back, he paused, turned and found himself nailed to the stage by weight of his prop. A fit of anger, a loss of composure, his claws gnashed against the rope and severed the line. Allowing himself free at last to exit, leaving the stage to those who must it seemed hog it.

Outside the curtains, beyond the eyes, he shut the door and heaved as the wretched old crew member came flouncing to disturb his rest,

"My King, there was a problem with subject #784, we-" A pause, eyes wide, the boy must be awed, taken aback by the performance, too stunned to speak. Such wonder, stupid outside the curtain call, there was no applause out here, he clicked his tongue, not following his eyes.

"I do not care, proceed with the harvest of the corneas and leave me be." He spluttered out his lines, so to appease the taken aback boy. Maybe it would be enough to sate him as the dragon turned away, arm thrown across his stomach to hide away his spilling make up. He had to rehearse, to practice, to pretend or else he would never take the stage away again.

Tenderly, he unwrapped the bundle. It wriggled like a larvae and violet eyes lit up in wonder as the baby dragon began crawling on his arm, using it as a monkey bar. Tiny buds on its back would soon grow into wings, and the hydra slowly reached under and pulled one out, relishing the fresh feeling. It was like peeling a bulb of garlic. The soft membrane of the dragon's wings began to flap under his hand, until both of the wings were outstretched. The baby silenced its laughter as Edge smirked, the young one's parents watching in horror as obsidian scales began to spread across the king's arms. A hand reached under his chin as Edge forced the young to look into his eyes. One was red, the other blue...

A rather strange combination, even in dragons. Red meant fire, and blue meant water. But both colors represented energy. Even as the mix of shadow and grey dragons were being annihilated by the other hydra, Edge wondered what this child was. His hair was a strange color, unlike anything he had seen in a since... since Ambrosia. Could this be her child? No, he chided, that was impossible. But still... Something about this dragon was... wrong somehow. He was perfect. Gently, Edge began to scratch the quiet younger, causing it to purr in satisfaction. Without warning, he suddenly slashed his hand through the other's skin. scales leaping off his arm to bandage the pink haired dragon's wounds. Soft squeals were drowned out by the screams of the adults.

"You'll make the perfect knight..." Edge whispered deviously.

Skylark cried out in pain as he hit the ground, brother in tow. Though the sky looked endless from here, it never changed. It finally dawned on him that they had never gone outside. Relaying the vision for any more details, the grey dragon grabbed Sleipnir by the shoulders and touched their foreheads together, letting his brother recall Daddy's memory. "Do you know what this means, Sleipnir? Well?! Do you?!" He was practically screaming, seemingly caught up in the cryptic vision.

"They're...really wonderful. I think they would make wonderful vessels don't you think? Look at them, aren't they perfect? What they could grow to be, what they could become. It's almost limitless to think off if they weren't so similar to him." Wicked, wicked words. The cynicism of that sole critic in the lost audience that he wanted so badly to have the attention off. So cruel, as he reviewed the two bumbling actors on the small screen, the buttons and lights flickering alongside the edges. He didn't understand the consoles, but he rested his hand gently upon the panel of knobs and buttons, leaning closer to the smooth glass screen, the bright resolution burning at his retina as the two actors danced from one screen to the next. All eyes focused on them from every lighting, every angle, every perspective. He couldn't stand it, they were perfect.

"Flawless." His breath fogged the screen, "So strong, so whole."

What of me?

A laugh, the critic condescending with his words, "What of you, my sweet one? My broken, my burned.." Fingers, across the skin, the sensation disappearing momentarily where it trailed across his arm, then once more over his torso; places that couldn't feel anymore. Over the bandages, solid under his fingertips where the nanites were set to work healing, the skin would never be the same there, so many sacrifices just to keep one's cruel laughter to himself, "You? I should abandon you, do you not want me to be happy? Tell me now, are you being selfish because you want me or is this just another attempt to 'spare' your offspring? Such weakness. There is even more reason to leave this broken body, especially when such...delicious treats lay before me. Are you weak, my wonderful knight? Is it true? All the rumors? What's been said? Are you weak? Shall I leave you to your stage, alone?"

No, I don't care. I don't care, as long as you stay with me. No one else matters, they're nothing. Impassioned pleas.

"Prove it to me then, my wonderful knight," His hand trailed across a lever embedded in the wall, enclosing around the smooth rubber encasing it's handle. It clicked, "Prove it. If I shall never need another, then these burdens are useless. Threatening. There is no more need for them whatsoever. Prove you want of only me, my vessel. One pull and let us be rid of temptation." His own voice and his own eyes as his gaze flickered over to the clear screen where they staged their performance. These petulant actors, foolish..youthful..perfect replicas and remnants of...life. And then he glanced back at the lever, one simple flicker and it would end all of that. One simple closed circuit in the monstrous machine and by some imagination, he'd end it all, right here, right now.

"They'd suffer, you know? There is no slow dying in a place like this." He's whispering, urging, hurrying. It's not a reminder, it's a sweetly worded demand. And his eyes flicker back to the screen, his lungs no longer function enough to draw breath. And his mind, his mind is long gone as he stares fixedly at the screen and licks his lips. He didn't think he was capable of trembling anymore, but his hand is shaking on the lever as he watches them. Can't hear them, can't feel them. Just sees them. Sees their eyes, so alike to him, the only ones that'll ever look like his. He remembers them bright with fear before they went completely blank. He remembers and his skin prickles, "They're threats, useless...are you going to let them live? Are you going to be weak? Shall I leave you my darling?"

Leave, don't leave The world spins, god forbid his heart skips and the lever clicks as it swings downward. His eyes are closed.
.
.
.
.
.

"Ahah...Hahaha," Laughing, bubbling from his lips, his eyes smoldering, "Did you? Did you honestly think that would kill them so easily?" The room is dark, but the screen is still bright and alive and they're just the same. Alive. Moving. They, the ones he thought he'd- "You really though it didn't you? You really believed you were killing them, didn't you?"

"Monster, hah," He pants, sighs, watches them play on the screen. Them, them with his eyes, the ones he fought for, bled for, died for. Them, his, theirs. Children, their children. And he wanted to kill them. He had thought he killed them. He believed he had. Monster

"My loyal eternal." His voice shakes, he can't help it, he can only stare at his children. Slumped over the control panel, the screen stares back at him, almost accusingly at his head hurts, clears a moment as he sits there motionlessly, turns his gaze once, twice to the screen where one's lying down, already torn up. And he realizes, it's the first time it's on his hands. And the buttons were twisted red, the lever streaked with the same color all the way down to his hands, shaking. It's her blood. It's her heart beat that's gone, it's her thoughts that have died. It's hers, it's hers and now it's not there anymore and she's gone and what's left of him is gone. It's all gone, he's fucked up.

He. Fucked. Up.

And now it's all gone. It's just him. And..

"Sweet lier." It creeps up onto him, it's sweet, admiration, attention of his audience and the lights turn back onto him.

"Show time."

---

The ground is much harder than he imagines. It scrapes across his skin and makes him whimper as they tumble across the ground. He clings onto his brother as they finally come to a stop, staring up at his brother in pure shock. There's nothing to do, but to hold onto each other, because everyone's that's ever tried to protect them has gone away. Daddy was gone away, Leo was gone, Papa was gone, all of them were gone and now they only had each other. He didn't want to lose his brother too. This quiet moment was interrupted though as Skylark clung to him tightly and pressed their foreheads together and his vision filled with Daddy's and his ears rang with his brother's shrieking voice. And he was crying because Skylark was crying and he was holding him close because he was being held and screaming along with him, "I don't know! I don't know!"

"Leo, where's Leo?! Where's Daddy? Where's papa?" He screamed back at him because he wanted to know, he had to know. This wasn't supposed to be like this.

Wounds felt like feathers and even as his brother began to break down, Skylark only grabbed his brother roughly by the hair and crushed their foreheads together not out of meanness but of dire. Skin met skin and he let his lilac eyes slip closed. The last things Daddy had said to him was to make more slaves. What did Daddy want for him, if he was no good as a mate? Sleipnir was more desirable. Everyone wanted Sleipnir. And why wouldn't they? His brother was perfect- bold and courageous, even without a gift like his, was able to gain the attention of those around him. Sleipnir, who was undyingly loyal to their parents, while he was... he... he was...

He was a leader. That's what Daddy wanted to tell him. One didn't need to be loved in order to maintain order, they needed power. They needed to be feared. He could recall back to the great dragons who had protected their clans in their time of need. The Alpha of the North Ulva, who slaughtered tribes of Metal dragons with her power in order to maintain her dominance in the area. Klioh, the Giver of the water dragons, who brought immense pleasure to others in exchange for rites and information. Aime-Torhu, the Great Sky, who was capable of turning others into stone just by biting them. All great dragons, all great abilities. But none had the straightforward control that he wielded. It was capable of reducing a great warrior into his loyal pet. What else could he apply it to? The possibilities were endless. He could be the king.

Relaying his thoughts to his brother, not in words but in emotions, he felt his wings spread out once more. Though... though he let his brother know everything. He was wondering what Sleipnir could do. If he could do anything else than be desirable. Projecting to him that he thought they were trapped, Skylark finally pulled away and frowned. What could they do? Father... father was no more. They needed to fend for themselves. There was no need for words. They needed a course of action. First, they would need to reunite with other dragons so he could start testing the bounds of his powers.

The hilt felt solid against his palm, the blade heavy.

He had never wanted to be a warrior, never wanted to fight. Hunting was more than enough for him; one quick snap and a meal was served. Not like dueling, it was long and drawn out. It was loud, the clashing of claws and metal. Every youngling should learn to duel, that was a common sound, but he was more than happy to bury his head against her mother's bosom and listen to her stories, ignoring the sounds of dueling and hiding way from the festivals where a fight was the main entertainment. He never wanted to be a warrior, and it seemed like he never had to, "It does not matter, if you shan't want to be a warrior, we no longer need our swords and teeth to fight, we use words now, Relin, words and out passion to fight. Be you not a warrior, than shall a great diplomat you will make. I assure it."

It slices through the air when he swings it experimentally, almost faultlessly.

"You will be my strong knight," And yet he's never been a warrior, how could he possibly be a knight? It's such a human concept from such a sweet person. He's heard it but once before, the notion of completely dedicating oneself to another. They fought for each their own. To fight for another, it was considered a weakness then to fight for an equal, for someone that was not still a child. And yet beloved be, he thwas nought but a fragil king. And so he swore himself duly to that title. As his knight. He'd protect him, forever.

They come undone, one by one. The blade slices through the skin like it is air. Faultless, freely...

Something else, it's what he needs, gazing down at the broken nails, useless. And he gazes upwards at the stained glass held high above them. Silly humans and their need to surround themselves with such quirky notions, but now in such a time, he understands their stories of sudden revelation as his gaze flickers down to the stained glass painting of an ancient warrior, decked in plate armor, hands wrapped around his sublime weapon glittering in the artificial light. It glistens and shines down in colored patterns across the marbled floor, over where he sits contemplating. And his eyes catch upon the glitter peeking out of his pocket. One sublime jewel. He touches his stomach tenderly, remembering briefly. Very briefly, then he forgets and turns to summon one of them.

If anything, they can do make what they would of it, if anything he would embrace that title he shunned so long. And the throne would fall to him

They fall easily, like spinning tops losing their energy. Standing where everything falls, he sheaths the blade, his hand trailing across the smooth blade till he reaches the rounded texture of the set orb. Where the ash dances, stained to his hands once before. He doesn't look, but in his mind, he believes, he's a pathetic actor.

---

He understands, he knows his brother. He holds onto him tightly and sniffles as he relays his thoughts over to him and reaffirms the sickening notion of their situation. They're alone. And Sleipnir knows his brother is right, they can't wait for a rescue any longer. His tears dry quickly as he pulls back from him and stares into his eyes. It's funny, they both got Daddy's eyes and not Papa's. He can't remember what Papa's eyes look like anymore, even the color now was wrong. Papa is all wrong and Daddy is gone and all he has is his brother to fuel him on. He held onto his brother, nods to him because it's hard to think or do anything else after having being flooded with the typhoon of his brother's thoughts and emotions. They clash for the first time against everything that he's felt, not in sync for the first time, but overwhelming. It overtakes his own thoughts and willingly he allows it because his brother is right, sounds right and god knows he needs something right.

They needed the others, Skylark was right. They needed to get out of this beautiful prison that held them.

"How?" He managed to gasp, holding tightly onto him. Panting, "How?" He repeated and turned his head up to stare at the endless ceiling above them, eyes searching through the infinite blue to find some flaw, some kink they could slip through. Papa...him, He had escaped in all the commotion. Surely, there was a way out for them. Somehow, they just had to get out, find the others..Could it be that easy?

---

The talk of machines and endless possibilities, he can't hear it. He just watches, above deck, lets the humans play about and make them believe what they do, they do only because he commands it. His army, he wonders, briefly, if that is all a king has. And his eyes flicker over to the human flapping his gums; he's nothing like him. Even all the scientific jargon he spews fails to sound even similar, without the passion, without the spark. His eyes are completely empty. Nothing like his. Contemplating, he falters, considers. Reaches out and pauses as he watches the machines below start to whir and continue their work, scraping and cutting. He watches them, remembers and pulls back to touch the hilt of his sword. No weaknesses.

The cold metal touches her bare flesh, and instinctively the Oracle moves to sit up. She only manages to tilt her neck, before something tugged her back down. Huffing in confusion and pain, December blinked, trying to look around at her unfamiliar surroundings. It was dark, and something was wrong. Fist if all, she was naked. It also appeared she was alone, but there could be a camera in the room. Feeling terribly exposed the ex-goddess tried with all her might to cover herself up with her hands. The more she pulled at her restrains, the more they pulled her down to the table. Her wrists, ankles, and waist were all tied down with some sort of snake chain. "Damn! Where is everyone?" She called out loud, voice echoing in the gloom. There didn't appear to be anyone around. Just great.

It was then she noticed her eye, or lack thereof. She blinked, but it felt empty, hollow. Her eyelid felt as though it could concave at any given moment. They had... while she was asleep, they had taken out her eye! Her remaining eye went wide, as she tried to shift forms. That would do it! But something in her mind stung and she cried out. It was the conditioning...! Damn hypnosis getting in the way. Feelings rightfully helpless, the dragoness screamed, the sound curdling and snaking it's way throughout the entire city. Unlike many of her allies, she still had her sanity. In her eye, however, it was a curse. Feeling a vision, she saw her skull being ripped and cut open... She opened her mouth, screaming even more hauntingly than before.
---
Skylark held his brother's hand in his own. "Do you trust me, brother?" The grey dragon looked around. The sky was so endless, the grass so infinite. But it was all fake, Edge's memories told him so. Faux Domes, they were called. Advanced hologram technology combined with inpenitrable globe tecology equated to an extremely hard to escape prison. The globe could rotate, so if one was to walk in just one direction, it would turn. If they were to walk west and never stop, the globe would let them do so forever, like a giant hamster wheel. But Skylarge knew what they had to do.

"Alright, Sleipnir, remember in the maze when you called out your mist? You need to do that again so we can find the exit. Holograms don't work when clouds and fog are present," He recited, eager to escape and reunite with the others. But then agaib, Sleipnir didn't know how to control his powers very well yet. And his brother didn't learn how to fly. "Why don't you try flying, as well? And if you're having trouble, I can just hypnotize you to learn, too. You said you trust me!" He declared haughtily.

"Urgh, can you not keep it down?" A slurred voice piped up right next to the screaming oracle, a familiar groan echoing in the chamber as restraints were lazily tugged at. Now, one couldn't completely fault the slothful demon who had been injected with the same mind numbing drugs meant once long ago to put dogs to sleep. Nerves still numb, the dragon shifted sleepily, failing to turn against the restraints that held him down and every other dragon alike that the scientists had deemed useful. Unabashed by his own apparent nudity, the screams of his bedside companion waking up not just him. All around, the groans started as they began to wake from the merciful sleep of the anesthesia and their scrambled minds, well for those that still had most of their vocal chords intact. Even then, not all groans were accounted and present for.

What a silly plot device it would be should all of them be kept in a room together, free to their own devices; though freedom was a relative term considering their many re-enforced restraints and equally numbed minds. Leo was wondering where his comfortable bed was, but was more than willing to fall right back asleep before his senses could fully return to register the pain. Others seemed more panicked, the first showing a restless sign as his numbed fingers scratched against the rough table he was strapped against, a cough wracking his frame the moment he woke and found his mouth full of fluid. Spluttering, he shook, gasping for air and attempting to dry away the water that still clung to his skin. He never thought...that such a simple torture method would be so..effective to some extent.

Weakly, his scales flared, the droplets sizzling, but only simmering along his skin it seemed. Finally, he relaxed back against the table, panting at the slight exertion. His skin was still wet, an unusual feeling out of bathing. Blinking, he though to start looking around rather than just trying to break through out of sheer strength. He could only stare up at the ceiling though, the blinding light glaring down at him. Wetting his cracked lips, the air felt painful as he inhaled, hearing the rather inappropriately casual conversations overhead, "Wh-who's there?" Commanding was a hard tone to achieve when it felt like he was cutting his own throat just by breathing.

---

His brother's hand felt warm in his, almost like how Daddy and Papa used to hold hands. Squeezing him back gently, he nodded at the question, biting his lip. He didn't know all too much how he had been able to emit the mist before in the maze, he had just felt like it when the clouded gases had begun to clog up their breathing. He had just wanted it all to stop and now, he wanted this entire illusion to end. Grasping onto his brother he met his gaze without hesitation even though that could've been a dangerous move, he trusted his brother though and he hoped he would understand when he spoke up, "I don't wanna be hypnotized," That only seem to bring out all the trouble, he didn't know exactly how, but it was an ill thought in ..Path's mind. He wasn't quite sure anymore, he couldn't read much into Papa's mind anymore. There were only increasingly dwindling fragments there and he had no idea what was happening, but he didn't pay too much mind to it now.

"Don't hypnotize me okay, Sky? You can hypnotize everyone else, but don't hypnotize me. I trust Sky not to do that." He smiled, a shaky smile, then reached over and pulled Sky into a tight hug. Squeezing his eyes shut, he thought back to the maze and the thick gases that begun to fill the walls. He thought about it and then took a deep breath of what was clean air, huffing and trying to recreate the situation in his mind until he could release the purifying smog once more and disrupt the entire illusion or at least try to, "It is working, Sky?" He asked, keeping his eyes still shut.

Skylark nodded to his brother, holding his hand and squeezing it. He didn't think that his power was bad, but if his brother didn't want it, that was that. Smiling softly in his brother's hug, Sky hugged him back and let his hands feel over his brother's wings. He traced the outline of sensitive cartilage under the membrane of Sleipnir's wing. Even his brother's wings were better than his. True, skylark had four, but they were skinny and frail. He couldn't use them to carry them. He couldn't see the mist, but he could see its effects. The world around them began to grow transparent, and Skylark's eyes widened in terror as their eyes were opened. In the entire top of the globe, electric currently flitted about, blue sparks crackling in the form of electric wire. If he had tried to fly out, he would have killed himself. "Sleipnir, there's something up!" Lilac eyes panned around their prison, trying to find...

Spotting a door with a wheel similar to those on submarines, Skylark pulled apart from his hug and ran with his brother in hand towards the vaultlike door, pressing his other hand on the wheel and tried with all his might to turn it, to no avail. His hands were simply too sweaty to get a grip on the metal, and even after wiping his hands on the fresh clothes Father had given him, it wouldn't budge. Frustrated, the dragon broke free from his brother's hand and spread out all four of his wings, stepping back from the door and launching himself like a bullet at the metal. It didn't move and inch, but Skylark had hit his head. "Ouwchie! Owowowowow!" He screamed, clutching his forehead as silver scales began to spread across his body, and he became enveloped in grey light. Form rearranging, bones crunched as they melted or expanded. Skylark felt the sensation painful, but didn't have the mouth to scream. As soon as his maw had formed, the dragon let out a roar.

Lilac eyes opened, and Skylark felt a new instinct come over him. His view was different, but his perspective was the same. The pain was gone, but Skylark felt new, as if he had emerged from his cocoon. Spreading his four wings, the baby dragon was much smaller than the adults, but still about as large as a car. He wobbled on his legs, and now that he noticed, he had six of them. He had a slim build, a bit like daddy, and his head tapered off to a point on his snout and maw. Stretching out to his brother, Skylark let his tongue dart out and lightly prod at his brother's face. Skylark's forehead still hurt, though... Nevertheless, he needed to get himself and his brother out of this place. Wrapped his tongue around his twin, Skylark placed the other on his back and proceeded to stand on his back four legs. With his front two, he pounded and thrashed violently at the door until he felt it give. Headbutting it, the door crumpled away.

The dragon let out an excited noise as he tried to shove his head through the opening, but then felt something catch. He was too big for the doorway! Braying in misery as the door chafed his scales, Skylark writhed and thrashed his tail, head lodged on the other side. Not only had he trapped himself, but he had trapped his brother as well! Wings slumped in sadness, the baby dragon didn't know how he had changed forms in the first place, so he most certainly didn't know the first thing about turning back!
---
Hearing a familiar voice, December could have cried in relief. "Leo! Oh my goodness, I'm so glad you're here!" She then thought about it. "Well, actually, I'm not glad we're about to be mutilated but at least you won't have to suffer in solitude, right?" She reasoned, trying to lighten the mood. Feeling her stomach turn, she realized the tables weren't horizontal like she had thought, but vertical. They were propped up on the walls like pop art. Really... Explicit pop art. The last time the other hydra had called her naked, they had all screamed with more terror than any other enemy. She couldn't break away from her restrains, struggling and writhing in vain, the racket she was making enough to rip the rest of them away from sleep. "I'm surprised you're not mad I woke you up," December joked, remembering once when she awoke Leo and he had used his power to teach her a lesson.

Hearing a female groan to her left, December began to call out before a rough voice echoed through the room. "This is December!" Called December, wanting the other to return the favor even as everyone slowly answered.

"Sila made it through alright."

"This is Noire..."

"Figures you'd survive," Blizzard snickered.

"Regnum? Is that you?" Terra called slowly, still reeling from the effects of the drugs.

"Charon?" Noire called. "Charon, where are you?!" A clear mist coursed through the room, and Noire was quick to exclaim, "Are none of us wearing anything?!" She detected a male who had yet to speak. "That you, Charo-Charo?"

"Nope," Halley responded lowly.

"Why is it so damned dark in here?!" At Blizzard's complaint, Halley laughed.

"I can't speak for you guys but I can see just... fine." He whistled suggestively and Blizzard scowled in the darkness.

"Why can't you hydra just do that poofy thing and get us out?!" Terra demanded, causing Noire, December, and Blizzard to arch their brows in confusion.

"What are you going on about, dragon?" Blizzard asked, spitting the d-word like it was a curse.

He took comfort in his brother, his arms tightening around him as Skylark chose to let his hands wonder. The dragon held back a giggle when his hands trailed lightly over his sides and made him break his concentration momentarily. Taking a deep breath, he tried hard not to keep focus even as distracting as Sky's hands were becoming as they finally came to the thin skin folded down closely to his back. The feeling was just as ticklish as him touching his stomach, but in a different ticklish sort of way that made him squirm and bite his tongue gently. The skin there was awfully thin, sensitive to the slightest touch that caressed the veins beneath the thin sheet of skin. He didn't know how exactly sensitive they were until now, but there wasn't much time for him to ponder it when Sky's sudden shout pulled him back out from his thoughts. Opening his eyes, he kept his arms wrapped around his brother as he peered over his shoulder and watched the world before them beginning to dissolve into a myriad of fading colors and white mist. The blue electricity reflecting in his eyes as he tilted his head up and stared in awe at the dangerous sparks they had just lowly avoided whilst they had been in flight.

He was still staring by the time Skylark disengaged from the embrace and started to pull him alongside him. The soft crushing of the grass now sounding strange as the metal ground was revealed beneath their feet. The heat radiating beneath their feet was nothing more than radiators and whirring cogs if one listened close enough. All this time, this world was just a really advanced façade; it was still nothing like Father's memory, it was silly to think that he would've really been able to see the world as Father had. Those thoughts aside, he skidded to a halt as his brother did, finally focusing on the metallic wheel ahead of them that seemed to be turned tightly into the door. Not too far after Skylark was he from trying to turn said wheel in the other direction. Digging his claws into the metal, he heard his nails chip, leaving the barest of scratches in the door. Making him reel back and press his nails against the soft of his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Skylark pull back as well and he thought that perhaps his brother wanted them a little rest. What he couldn't expect was for his sibling to come barreling straight at the door like a speeding bullet.

He jumped at the sound of bone colliding with metal, making him wince before he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around his brother's head before the sudden burst of grey light made him cry out and step back in surprise. Tripping over his own feet as he watched his brother began to shift and morph before his very eyes. Unable to help but follow the burst of scales that completely engulfed his body. It was...It was almost like Father, not as white as they ever were then, but similar, yet all shiny like Daddy's scales were. Sitting down, he stared out wide eyed at his brother. Squeezing his eyes shut at the earth shattering roar he released. Opening his eyes, he stared up at his brother, wide eyed. In awe once more until his tongue darted out and lapped roughly against his cheek, the feeling almost like a cat's. He giggled, reaching up to gently touch Sky's snout. This was still his brother. No matter what form he took on, "Sky.." He laughed, staring down into the dragon's eyes, a smile pulling at his lips before he was pulled up and placed onto his sibling's back. The feeling of scales underneath his palm, it was very familiar and the young dragon reveled in the feeling of it. Running his hands over Sky's back, over the area where thin wing meant solid muscle. Digging his hands into the scales lightly when his brother reared back and nearly threw him off. Holding on tightly as he mauled the door. Sleipnir caught the very briefest glimpse of the white washed corridor before Sky suddenly threw himself forward once more and all he could see was his brother's hunches disappearing past the outline of the door. The next thing he knew, he was sitting on a squirming buking bull.

Nearly thrown off, he slid down his brother's side, landing dangerously near one of his clawing legs. Even young, in this form, his brother was still much bigger than him and his claws were massive and razor sharp, "Sky! Sky!" Sleipnir called out, waiting for his brother to calm before he wrapped his arms right around one of his legs, hugging him tightly, "You gotta calm down Sky!" He wasn't too concerned about getting themselves out, more so over his brother's panic, "Sky don't worry! Don't worry!" He could still connect to his brother from here even if his thoughts were more jumbled and more instinctive than usual. Reaching out, he scratched pitifully at the door frame digging into his brother's haunches, "You did it, we're almost out." He reassured, "You just...need a little push!"

Pulling up his sleeves, the younger hopped around to his brother's back and right onto his tail. Wrapping himself around it tightly before he stretched open his jaw to reveal his glinting teeth and sunk it down right into Skylar's behind.

---

"Do that thing!" He hissed, his voice ever so scratchy and biting to his own throat, "Can't you kill yourselves and..appear someone else?" He might have made more of a comment, but as it was, he could barely talk and breathe at the same time. He had other concerns at a time like this now though, like the safety of his own team who couldn't merely come back to life should they suffer a fatal wound, "Terra, Sila?" He growled lowly, waiting for a role call from those two before he continued on, "Forte? Forte are you here?" He growled, knowing the man could be stubborn. If he hadn't answered, then it was likely Anemoli wasn't around either. There was one voice out of them all though that he was rather desperate to hear. Licking his lips, he wasn't sure if he could put off calling for her anymore, "Sanare. Sanare are you here?" He waited, swallowing, nothing but silence answered him back.

"Sanare, answer me!" He growled, nearly ripping out his throat before he was silenced by another of Leo's groan. Gritting his teeth, he avoided an angry remark.

Noire's eyebrows arched. "Why would I kill myself? Think, you little shit!" There were murmurs of agreement from both December and Blizzard.

"Then just poof like the clouds!" Terra screamed, tired of the hydra's incompetence. Everything was a game to them. Even when their lives were at stake, they would rather deceive, even with no reward.

"Poof...?" December asked, question mark audible in her voice. What could the dragons be babbling about now? The issue with the elders was that they loved to talk. All they did was force their own opinion and never listen, especially when they were wrong. She couldn't stand those who never listened.
---
The young dragon's heart began to race , until his brother spoke. Sleipnir was like a tranquilizer to him, calm words being more than enough to cloud his rage and temper his sorrows. The grey dragon's head gently touched to the ground as he felt his twin's thoughts wash over him. They were nice. Comforting, abstract, and intangible little messages his brother gave to him. He almost felt like... like dozing off. That is, until a strange pain wracked his posterior and he roared in pain, unable to burst forward even with panic on his side. Rational thought fading, the baby dragon squirmed even more, flapping his wings in addition to writhing his six legs. Sleipnir would have to try something else if they were going to get out before Father caught them.

It was starting to get noisier and noisier as the dragons and hydras alike began to regain control over their own vocal chords. Their voices growing in strength and beginning to fill the room. Arguing, muttered comments, Terra screaming hysterically at the hydra who seemed to have completely forgotten their most effective means of evading capture from dragons when they needed it the most now against a surprisingly common enemy. Common, he supposed to some extent because in truth, a dragon, a hydra, any being of before was never made to bow to that of mortal kind. And yet here they were, restrained, violated and nothing more than waiting subjects for when their captors returned. And what exactly were they doing about it? Wasting their time arguing and pushing the blame around!! It was enough to make the fiery dragon grit down on his teeth, the heat rising in the pit of his stomach like re-ignited coals. His wings clanged against the metal table against his back as he tugged at the leather enforced restraints that forced him down,



He was not made the unofficial head of the draconian council for nothing, but right now, aside from his voice there was nothing. Completely exhausted from the simple exertion, the dragon slumped back against the table, panting. Much had been taken out of him and even at his lowest, Regnum had never felt this weak before. Obviously, he wasn't going to stay around and let them worsen his condition nor abuse the right of his team.

"Stop arguing," It felt strange to say those words, without Sanare around though to play the patience of the leader, he had to step much fuller into his room. Fighting against the pain and exhaustion, he licked his lips and continued, "We need to, we need to figure our way out of this before they come back, before all we can do is argue! Now..." He paused to breathe, but not for long or else he wouldn't find the strength to speak again, "Do any of you...see an exit?"

---

It seemed that even with his encouragement, Skylark was stuck fast and steady. The door creaking, but not giving way to him. Gritting his teeth, the young dragon slid off of his brother once more, running up to the door and placing his hand against his metal. Staring down teary eyed at it, he felt his own anger start to build because they were so close..so close to outside, to the others, but now they had just gotten themselves into an even worse situation! "It's not fair!" He raised his fist and bashed it down against the door, wincing as the metal bit back coldly. Throwing his hands against it repeatedly as his brother continued to squirm next to him, "It's not fair, Sky! It's not! We can get out, it's not fair if we're stuck here!" He cried out, the sound of his clanging bound to attract some attention.

Like the attention of a passing guard come to investigate the bangings and clangings coming down the corridor. Eyes glowing golden, he chanced upon the panicking dragon, but before he could reach for his own stunning weapon, the swing of Skylar's head knocked him backwards and out cold onto the floor, simple as that.

Alternate ending

Like the attention of a guard who with one simple swipe and already made orders, could behead a captured beast in one fell swoop

Haley snickered at Regnum. The reds had always considered themselves to be such great leaders, but if that was the case their kind- no. All of dragon kind wouldn't be in such grave danger. What a terrible leader he was. The red was nothing more than a false god, the figurehead for the council. And why shouldn't he be? He appeared strong, courageous, and as handsome as the mighty sun, and as bright as it too. But as a keeper dragon, the cyan-haired male had better intuition than most. He slicked his tongue at the dragon's words.

"Guess I'm the only one who can see in the dark, then?" Waiting a few moments for a response, he laughed haughtily and panned the room. His pink-haired partner was nowhere to be seen. That was an issue, because Lucian's aura manipulation would come in handy right now to scout for guards. He didn't bother wondering how he had ended up in the mess. As a ygdrassil knight, he had to accept that sometimes weird shit happened and there was nothing he could really do to stop it.

His multicolored eyes rested on the red dragon and he licked hi lips whole whistling suggestively. "Man, you're real hot. Maybe I should keep you," Halley mused, referencing why exactly he was called a keeper dragon. Snaking over with his elastic tail, he stretched the tip far from the binds and let it snap, crushing the chains around his feet. He slowly did it once more too free himself, then hopped onto the cold linoleum ground. "Well, looks like one of us is free. Now what would you guys do to convince me to let you out?" He asked deviously, hand caressing Regnum's calf in one hand and inching up Leo's thigh on the other.
---
Seeing the guard drop to the ground, Skylark felt something bubble inside of his stomach. He felt his scales recede as his form grew smaller. Slowly, he reverted to his humanoid form. He let out a small giggle, slightly delerius from transforming for the first time. His tail and wings still flapped madly, and he was unaware of his brother.

He didn't appreciate Halley's snap. They barely knew this new comer dragon, he had just popped out of nowhere claiming to be the guardian of some ancient tree of which they could've used the help of much earlier. Where were they during the great fall outs? During the time where they at the very least needed a sign of hope! And now, they were just as trapped as rats as they were or so he would think. The restraints had been calculated according to the maximum of draconian strength, at the very least the most that Path was willing to provide in his humanoid state. Ancient draconian strength on the other hand, fueled by the sap of the Ygdrassil tree and nurtured by years and years of training just to be called a knight, it was untested and erroneous to assume it'd be the same as the others. An over sight. Not even the council knew about it.

Right now, all Regnum could feel was a sort of mild irritation before such strength was demonstrated, gritting his teeth to avoid responding to the dragon's quip. He was just like the hydra, thinking he could own someone. Resting his weight against the restraints, hanging his head, not sure if he should allow such a feeling of defeat to overtake him because once it did, he doubted he would find the strength to life that burden once more. The darkness was suffocating, something he wasn't all that used to as well without his usual light to brighten the way. He couldn't even manage an ember like glow now. Just for a moment, he felt like not trying. There was very little left to try for, only now there weren't many others who could question what they were fighting for because they were gone now too. And Sanare...he wished she was here right now to offer him some encouragement. Closing his eyes, he was pulled out of his somber thoughts by a sudden snapping sound. Every one else's heads seems to shoot up hearing that almost impossible sound.

Regnum's fiery eyes flashed briefly in the darkness as he just about caught the barest color in the darkness approaching him before he felt slender fingers running up his leg, reminding him he wasn't exactly clothed at this time. His own restraints protested, but did not give way as he tensed, a low growl emitting from his throat, glaring into the darkness ahead of him, "How can you think of such a thing at a time like this!? We need to get out before anyone returns or sees that you've escaped. Hurry up and find a way to let the rest of us out!" He barked, baring his teeth to the man whilst the other subject to the less than subtle molestation merely yawned.

"As long as you do the work." He sleepily murmured, eyelids already drooping.

---

The younger came barreling straight forward, flinging his arms around his brother and causing them to tumble to the ground. Laughing happily at he felt his brother's more familiar form, "You changed back!" He exclaimed as they picked themselves up from the metallic floor. Only then did Sleipnir start to look around, down the long corridor that they had come down, then at the unconscious guard. Helping his brother up, he bound towards the unconscious form, excitedly pointing him out, "Oh Oh, he can take us everyone else! Make him yours Sky! Do it now!" He coaxed, jumping excitedly around his brother. This was it, they had finally gotten out! Nothing could stop them now!

Skylark simply nodded to his brother, then knocked off the bio-hazard mask the man was toting. He felt tired, and something about his brother's tone hurt his eardrums. Did Sleipnir always have the pitch of a parakeet? Growling slightly, he focused his power on his eyes and locked his gaze with the guard's. It was angular, and the stubble poking out of his face was a graying blonde. His skin was filled with imperfections, as the human looked far older than anyone else he had seen. The dragons were able to keep their bodies young, but humans wrinkled like grapes in the hot summer sun. The man was by no means elderly, but he was definitely out of his teen years. Something about the primal nature of the human intrigued him. They were unable to govern themselves, and made stupid choices.

Then they had children, and those children made even worse choices! Memory inheritance was a beautiful thing, but the humans didn't have it. Picking the man up by the shoulders, he held the skin of the creature's forehead so that his eyes were opened with his other hand. A snore escaped the man, and Skylark felt some kind of heat rush through him. Father... no... Relin's father would yawn like that. So hearty, so full, so... A few tears slipped from his eyes, recalling what the world looked like on the outside. It was a grey, as if the sun had given up its ministrations. There was no reason for it. Why hadn't he been able to meet his grandparents? Why was the earth so ruined? Who were his parents? He knew who they were, but he still had no idea what they stood for, and it made him angry.

He let his fingertips roam aimlessly on the man's body, playing across the thick fabric. He stopped over his sternum, feeling a pulse. Inquisitively, he pressed the flat of his palm against the man's chest, then drew it back. In a flash, he dug it deep into the man's chest. Feeling a snarl rip through his throat, the young dragon felt the wet cavern he had created. He felt something hot and throbbing, and yanked it out with a glorious snap like guitar strings being pulled taut. Without even thinking, he raised it to his lips like his ancestors had done centuries before, and paused. He took his brother's hand in his own and pushed the still-beating heart towards his mouth with a grunt, edging Sleipnir to take the first bite.
---
Halley laughed at the fire elder and the hydra of sloth's reactions, not that he knew exactly who they were. "It's always time to reliegve some stress," The keeper dragon murmured, feet leaving the ground as he dug his claws into the table around Regnum until their noses were practically touching. "You have some really warm breath..." He murmured, taking a whiff of the fire dragon. He hadn't seen one up close ever since he had patrolled the Gates of the Fallen. And his only interaction was disarming the great reds. Hydra were a rare sight as well, but... Reds were something extraordinary. A star among rocks, a pearl in the sands.

Slowly, Halley let his tails hover around Regnum's legs, before swinging it forward with gusto. It lightly tapped against the man's calf, injecting something into him like a needle. He laughed a bit and hopped off the table, landing nimbly on the cold ground, before swinging with his other tail onto Leo to do the same thing. "I got a Ygdrassil leaf over my heart that turns my blood to dew. It should be enough to give you guys a little boost. for now, anyways."

It was...fascinating to watch his brother slowly take control of the man. It was a process and he could clearly see the array of emotions and thoughts that passed over his brother's face in a journey of emotions, without having to rely on their linkage with one another. Like his Daddy, Sleipnir was starting to understand why it was so hypnotizing to observe and study someone, the curiosity having never flared down from one generation to the next, but he didn't share the same thoughts about the mortality of the man. As far as he ever knew from his memories, the humans had never been any more than tools. Something that had taken away the world quietly in their bitterness. They had never played any essential part and truthfully, they didn't even seem worth playing with. Watching Sky take control the first time though, would always be highlight. He had no interest in the human, only his brother. His powerful, cool and collected brother who, even for a dragon, seemed way beyond his years. They both were, just, the world had become so desolate that it was harder to recognize such a fact.

The tears broke his eager attention momentarily. Out of all of them, they were the few left with the luxury of such tears, but Sleipnir still wanted to reach out and wipe away his brother's sadness, stopping just short for fear he would break the concentration shining brightly in his eyes. Instead, he let his hand drop back down to his side and merely shuffled closer.

Back to humble watchfulness as he followed Sky's hand, watching the fabric wrinkle and grow wet beneath his palm. And his gaze flickered back up to Sky's face, eying him with a sort of strange rhythm in his chest. Beating faster; a growing excitement as he shuffled all the closer to his brother. A small pinkness darting out to wet his lip as his blood pounded in his ears or was it another beat outside his body that he was hearing? His hand twitched expectedly in Sky's firm grasp, the wet warmth made it so tempting to pressure the soft source it was emitted from. The fluid made it feel viscous, the muscle made it feel firm. He glanced up at Sky, then reached up and pressed the still beating heart between them, letting it brush across both their lips. Parting his mouth as his brother did, for mutual reveling in the special warmth pulsing between them.

---

More than ever, he wished that he had just enough strength left for a small gust of fire. Then perhaps he could retort Halley's casual remark about 'relieving stress' with his own 'relaxing' method. The perfect opportunity snubbed him right in the face as the dragon loomed right out of the darkness in front of him, close enough that he could nearly see the smaller crystalline scales that marked every dragon's skin and was the only imperfection they had in their humanoid forms. His gaze flickered from Halley down to the darkness below him where he could feel the dragon's presence against his bare skin. Nakedness had never been a problem, but Halley clearly didn't understand boundaries and had Regnum not been strapped down, he would've striked him already though perhaps that was what the cocky dragon wanted. The light tap made him tense, the injection akin to a mosquito bite, but the jab of prior needles hadn't numbed his fight or flight instinct. In fact, such an instinct came flooding back to him.

Without much thinking, the bonds holding him down snapped and he stumbled forward, disorientated with the foreign floor suddenly below his feet again. He caught himself on Halley's shoulder, straightening and letting go immediately whilst Leo was given his own little boost.

Needles, cutting, the hydra was almost too far under to really care as long as he was given enough anesthesia to just about numb the pain. His absolute worse nightmare was to never find it in him to fall into that peaceful sleep again. In other words, the hydra dreaded being awake. Dreaded the sudden tension in his muscles that overtook him and the way the world suddenly brightened as his eyes widened. Still, unlike Regnum, he didn't snap his bonds as off yet.

Shame the majority remaining females weren't given the same treatment.

"Terra.." The firey dragon glowed lowly in the darkness as he regained some of his strength. Just enough to see the earth dragon. Reaching over, he began to tug at her own bonds.

Excerpt-Descent of the King.

 "Path-Path." The walls of his room spoke, he didn't understand why the humans were so obsessed with the shiny mirrored surfaces. They were making him sick. In more than one ways.

  He traced the frigid surface of his blade, refusing to turn around, but he had nothing to worry about really. The walls infront of him were mirrored as well anyway so the specter apparition of his imagination stood annoyingly concerned infront of him.

 "Path-Path.." The apparition pressed it's hand against the glass, heh, as if it could feel. He placed his blade gently against the cabinet and turned away, ignoring the concerned stare after him. His mind could whine and continue on with the rosé colored glasses all it wanted. Such simple trickery.

 "Path-path," "My king." "What happened to Edge?" He turned away, picking up his sword once more. He couldn't stand to be without it, not anymore.

   "Path-Path." "How long are you to repeat that, my king?" "How long are you planning to hide away?" "Hide? On the contrary my king, I think you will find that I have long since stopped hiding. Have you not seen my kingdom?" He was talking to his hallucinations now, had he gone as insane as those he infected?

  It served to reason, that he had always been insane, only that he had managed to spread out his insanity among the lesser beings. This being the first time, his power had been contained within a sole being. As powerful as a dragon was....

   The apparition laughed, lips crooked up in a half smirk typical of that smug bastard. Pretty little dimple on his cheek, it was out of place. "Path...." The mirror spoke softly, always with that silky hurt puppy tone, like he could never do wrong, like he believed he had never done wrong, "I miss you." Liar.

  "A shame then, that he doesn't miss you." "He loves me. He loves our children." Lies. "And he obviously believes it doesn't he? Please, he knows himself, it's not the first time he's lied to himself before, it's not the first time you have either, you know."

    He turned away from persistent dead kings, he was king now, "Perhaps you are some part that my king wanted to leave behind. A failed fail safe, in which, you haven't seen. You, my king, are dead, truly. The king of hydras has met the end of his reign and his castle lay in ruins. It is my kingdom now."

   "And your army...is contributing wonderfully to mine, if not making wonderful pets as well. I can see why you enjoyed your little harem so much. I-" "And our children?" "Taken care off, I am sure the scientists have found a place for them withi-" "Are they happy?" "How should I know?" "Well fed?" "I would not know nor care to." "Warm?" "Perhaps."

   "Are they-" "Enough, I am speaking to an apparition, less than a ghost even, leave me." He commanded, deciding it was time to end this. Such a memory was getting tiresome, he didn't need this.

  "One last question?" The specter asked, near sheepishly and that felt...wrong. Edge was never sheepish, not after he became king. Before though, the little human had always been so naive and ignorant. Careless and unsure when he asked questions, his cheeks heated should he be reprimanded for stupid assumptions. He used to never be right about anything after all, then...

  He sighed, still refusing to face the apparition, it wasn't real. "I am entertaining a specter." He muttered to himself, rubbing his temples. Edge-the specter seemed to take that as a 'yes'. "Why are you doing this, Path path?"

 Stupid question, "Is it not obvious? I-" "Why are you doing this, path-path?" "I do not need to explain my reasons t-" "Why? Path?" "He is not here, how many times must I-" "Path-path, why won't you fight?" "Why should he-I-" "Path." The voice was soft, but commanding and wasn't that typical? The white dragon fell silent, not having to look to know that the image in the mirror was gazing over at him, hands doing one thing or another,  Edge could never keep still...

  "Will you tell me why, Path?"

    "Why?...You still have to ask?" He murmured sarcastically, then chuckled, "To be honest, I really didn't have a reason to at first. I was tired, I told you. I just finished dying and I wanted to sleep. I didn't care whatever wanted to take over, why should I? But I suppose, it starts earlier than that, eh?"

  He still didn't turn, but he slumped onto the cushion, sword at his side, "I wanted you to love me, Edgey. Nothing more, I didn't ask to be raped, I didn't ask to have children, all I wanted was for you to love me Edgey, but I suppose it all came with the package, huh? That was fine, I had a wonderful mate, and then came my beloved son. Off course you loved him more, so I wondered, what could I change so you would love me again? You said you hated the weak. Fine, I tried to be strong, but you still didn't love me enough, you wanted soft lips and a lover. Fine, I could be that too. And I believed for a while, I succeeded. And then came along Regnum and you wanted someone sexy and passionate, was I not that?" He asked with subtle sarcasm.

  "Fine, that was fine, Edgey. Let me leave, you could have your kingdom and your hydra. You would win, we both knew that, but the dragon didn't want me either. I tried to change, I followed them to your castle and I found you again and silly silly to think I missed you. So I gave you my life. And I thought that that was fine. I tried my best, I gave my best and finally I could rest...."

  "It was beautiful, Edgey....Mother was there. She was singing me back to sleep, but off course, you didn't want a dead corpse. So you had to bring me back." He closed his eyes and he was drowning in the darkness again, pulled away from the warmth into the crystal coldness of life. His lungs were filling up, everything was pushing down on him, stealing his air. Shakily, he sighed and took in a deep shuddering breath when he opened his eyes, continuing on, "Still I wasn't enough then and then I realized it Edgey. I realized what you wanted, what everyone wanted."

  "Power. Off course, how could I be so blind? When I was the sole being in your life, I was the most powerful and you wanted me. When you found something more powerful, naturally you left me for it. The dragons didn't want me because I was weak, it made sense now! And you were oh so happy with your kingdom and your army, your powerful lover framed on the wall. Even the castle you lived in was built upon your power! That was it! You were king!"

  "But off course...you didn't think that there was someone else who wanted to be happy, huh? Now look at me, look! Who has the most powerful armies now?! Who has the tallest kingdom?!" He stood and turned, sword at ready, mirror empty, "I am the most powerful! I deserve to be happy!"

   The mirror remained empty, that bastard, "What's wrong, Edgey?!" He strode towards the mirror, "Can you not stand it? Are you the one who wants me now?! Answer me, my king!" He growled and plunged the sword into mirror, it shattered and showered shards onto him, "What's wrong?! What's wrong?! Am I too good for you now?!" He cried out, throwing down the sword, striking the shattered wall.

   He panted, pulling away, glaring at the wall, "You think you can make me go insane? You think you can get away with not answering me?!" He growled and then stared down at his hands. Balled up into a fist, he hadn't realized that he had been clutching glass. Letting go, he watched the blue stained shard fall to the ground, the palm of his hand stained a deep blue.

 This was wrong. He was shaking now. He wasn't supposed to bleed, this wasn't right. He stared down, past his trembling fingertips at the fallen glass shards. They twinkled up playfully at him, dipped in red and blue, leaving a mockingly beautiful trail of red and blue petals all the way out to the door.

   Leaving his precious sword on the floor, he mindlessly followed the trail. Glass crunching underfoot. The door sliding open at his approach, wet at the bottom. It slid with a squelch, tearing red and blue all over the floor.  And suddenly, he was afraid to go through.

  One step back turned into two, then three and then he was stumbling back in a coward's run. This wasn't right, wrong, all wrong. He was king now, he had everything he wanted! He was happy, they should adore him! This was horribly wrong, it wasn't supposed to be like that anymore.....

  His hands burned as he pressed them against his eyes. Tears were for the weak. He was king now, he should be happy. He deserved to be happy, didn't he?

I'm....

The human heart was considered to be something of great strength. How strange, then, that they were able to consume it so completely and totally. The heart was warm, wet and moist. Sky knew from his parent's memories that hearts were made of muscle, fats, and other bodily material. He couldn't think. Instinct took over, and it was feral, primal. Sometime, in a primordial world before buildings and fire and humanity, dragon's still reigned the skies unthreatened and unparalleled.

"Sleipnir, where do we go now? I'm... I'm very tired." He told his brother, earnestly. The heart and the dead body before him became cold. The walls and ceiling were cold to the touch and because he had no shoes or socks he felt the cold greatly.
-
Halley gazed on as the dragon's and hydra alike freed themselves from their bonds. The ygdrassil, the tree at the center of the world, had within it dew and miraculous nectar that bestowed the dragon's with their famed strength. Now, the keeper dragon's blood was a small grain of sand to the universe of the ygdrassil, but it was more than most dragons were able to touch in their entire lives.

"Let's get going, eh? Anyone have a plan?"

The warmth and beat could only last so long between them. As they stood by each other as brothers should, taking shared tentative bites between the two of them. Revelling in the warmth and taste, he let instinct wash over him as did his brother, the same urge shared between them until warmth chilled over and the soft echoing beat died down, their latest fascination having lost it's glamour, he let it fall as did his brother, what remained nothing more than muscle and fat. Leaving it's vestiges staining their lips the color of rubies and roses, like everything else, growing cold, but not cold alone because they had each other and where Sky's instinct faded away, Sleipnir kept his in the gentle touch that he raised to his brother. Pulling him closer into his embrace, to share what warmth that could be generated between the two of them.

"We'll find somewhere, don't worry Sky." He reassured softly, giving him a gentle squeeze around his torso, "Somewhere warm. We'll find someone to take care of us and make sure that we're always warm and some place safe, we'll make our own." He said softly, looking into his brother's eyes. He couldn't convey the same warmth and reassurance that Sky could in the depths of his own gaze. No, he wasn't as good as his brother or his father's, but he tried his best as he hugged his brother tightly, leaving red streaks across his back. He gripped his wrist gently, turning his attention back down the long hallway, there was only one way to go now.

And only so many obstacles that they'd have to overcome. He was determined to find them somewhere, someone and the rest were only brief periods of warmth for the two of them to share.
------
He rubbed his wrists, chains were not his enjoyment. If anything, the red was restless under the authority of another, restless and reckless. And he had already reached a breaking point being under the rule of a leader that never deserved any of his power or entitlement. He never knew her son well, but he had known, he and no one would ever live up to the life she left behind though even with all that she had left behind, he never understood her decision to place their entire existence onto the shoulders of one so young, so sheltered away from the world. He had, in some sense, expected failure, not for the boy to turn away from them. On everything that their proud species had once stood for. He was no longer one of theirs in his eyes and that meant that holding back was no longer a requirement,

"These humans are weak minded, they rely solely on their leader. The humans left our protection the moment they left the earth. Now, we find the others and we get to their leader." He commanded softly, his voice like a echo in the chamber they stood in.

"Shouldn't we hold back Regnum?" Sanare interrupted as she was freed from her own bonds, "Regroup? We shouldn't be so quick to rush in, he has an army far bigger than us. And shouldn't we address the issue of...the Ygdrassil order? Why have they returned to earth?" She said softly, looking around at all of them in the dim light, matching their gazes until she found one that stared off distantly, but that was to be expected considering who it was.

He felt it. A coldness ebbing in the middle of his chest. The traces of weak bonds that kept him on his feet as he slowly tugged the bonds away.

"We'll never be stronger than we are now. We'll never be closer." A growl rippled the darkness beside him, but the hydra ignored all noise as he stared at the observation deck above them. It's surface gleaming, the glass thinner than the cells that held them. He could find him, if he wanted. He could make him warm, keep him safe. He felt it tug weakly at his heart strings, calling him forth like the current of the ocean. He took a step forward, oblivious to the rants going on behind him. He could find him...
-----
He was in his own nest, well, what the humans called a bed. He awoke in artificial silk and the soft dip of the mattress. He sat up and felt the bed shift to his weight and the blade by his side rattle softly against him, dust swirling gently within it's hilt. He stared down at the orb and found it so stupidly easy if he just smashed it against the side of his head board and watched it's contents leak out like blood from a wound, but instead he even so more stupidly gripped it against his chest. Stroking it gently, he kept it close to him.