An infuriated Ny'vene crouched in a tiny cage, and for the life of him, Narak couldn't figure out why.
The quarters were unbelievably small. He could scarcely believe that his wings would fit in the thing.beyond that, the floor of the cage swayed so softly, as though on a boat, though a thick curtain obstructed his view.
He turned to look at the other side, though most of his body was kind of numb, and dashed his scarlet head against the too-low bars for a third time, snarled in frustration and sheer annoyance, and the fires upon his spine flared and set alight the thick black cloth that had been draped over Narak's hatchling-sized prison.
Someone cursed.
Distinctly human.
Narak snarled his response. Not that he could be understood across the monumental language barrier between human and sylesti, but surely the meaning of "Screw you!" was translated perfectly fine.
Whatever the human got out of that, it enraged it. The Ny'vene felt an abrupt jolt as an earthenware pot smashed against the barely-there black cloth, dislodging the last bits of tattered fabric so that Narak's vision was unobstructed.
Finally, he understood.
The cage around him was suspended in the air, maybe ten feet up, in a cave that seemed to belong to a group of dirtied, somewhat starved-looking humans; there were three males, one with hair dark as coal and eyes that glimmered golden and mischievous even beneath the chains he was bound with, and one with skin like the night and hair like moonlight, who seemed to be chastising a third (one who was evidently the pot-thrower, if the stack of dishes he was washing was any indication), an unshaven, brutish teenager with a nasty grin on his unsurprisingly ugly face; two female humans as well, one an angelic figure wreathed in comforting golden light that spilled from her angular eyes and pulsed beneath her cerulean skin and whose bloody hands, wholly at odds with her strange magic were evidently butchering a poor, dead, sylesti mangled beyond all recognition. She then fastened the chunks of dripping meat as bait for some sort of trap. The other was slim and elevant, clean where the others were dirty but merely because she looked to have been soaking in some kind of pond.
She was carrying a caged Ryori.
The Ryori was fast asleep.
Several things clicked into place all at once for the caged and uncomfortable Narak.
First. These people, they were sylesti trappers. Poachers. Kidnappers. The sort every good Wildling mother warned her hatchlings about before they ever left the safety and security of home.
Second. Somehow, by power or potion or both of the two, the bait would knock out any sylesti unfortunate enough to eat it.
And Third. Narak had somehow managed to fit all five feet of himself into a cage made for a youngling a fifth that size? It was ridiculous. That was literally impossible without breaking a few bones, and he Was fairly sure he wasn't broken.
But it was impossible.
Narak contorted himself over and under his wing to realize that they had literally left the door open to the trap; they evidently had wished for him to be kept in one piece, but had only managed to solve the problem by leaving the back half of Narak's body and his legs out of the cage and hoping he couldn't get his wings out.
Which he couldn't.
So the point was moot.
Narak and the golden-eyed man ended up staring at one another as the Ny'vene waited for his limbs to start working again and the man awaited...something. Narak had no idea what.
-------------
Raven had been taken prisoner nearly three days before the red and black Ny'vene adolescent, the spirited one, had arrived. The bandits had caught him stealing gold from them (not like he knew at the time, he just was looking for enough for a bed and meal) and as soon as they grabbed him they assumed he belonged to some other bandit group called "sunset bandits" or some other equally stupid name. He played along, hoping to buy a little time, but Nikyon, or the Blue Butcher as he and several of the sylesti in the cages called her, had revealed to him just after the beautiful, elegant and untamed creature was brought in that he, another beautiful, elegant and untamed (as he liked to think) creature would be killed upon the morrow.
"Lord Talon didn't even know who you are," she had crowed. "Tomorrow I shall spill your life into the dirt for the grievous insult you have offered me and mine!"
He had smirked and informed her blithely, "If this was what it takes to make you smile at me, I'd have taken more," but inside the almost-human was in turmoil. Expletives rattled from one end of his mind to the other, but he had no plan that stood a chance to save him.
That was when he saw the exquisitely patterned Ny'vene's tail twitch and erupt into red flames.
Suddenly, he had an idea...
------
That night, Narak heard a strange-sounding voice, softly calling in sylestian that was delicately touched with a hint of the accent of the great desert to the south.
"Flame-child, dragon of copper and of shadow, brave Ny'vene, I must speak with you, fiery one," they murmured. "It is a matter of life and death, living flame, one that concerns both of us."
Narak looked around for the source of the odd statements, scanning the cages near his for anyone who possibly could have been speaking to him--"Earth-fire, I am below you," the voice interrupted.
There were only humans below him.
The one with the black hair, the male, opened his mouth--seemingly in his slumber--but the sound that spilled out was perfect Sylestian. "Burning wind, may I have your name? I fear l am rather running out of kennings for which to call you by..."
"It's, uh, I'm called Narak," Narak choked out over his absolute confusion. "And you?"
"There are some that know me by other names, but for now I am Erib Krebayne, the Lone Raven. Little inferno, may I state this bluntly? We are doomed. Badly so, or so it would seem. You will be caged for life, and I? For me, this is the end of the line. So they think."
Here Raven paused. "I need you to set fire to something, Narak, lest we both lose ourselves, one way or another, to these bottom-feeding bandits."
"I don't think I can melt metal yet," Narak said uncertainly, "and especially not without badly hurting you."
"No, that's not actually it," the yellow-eyed mystery corrected. "There is a piece of fabric right beneath your cage, which may be half-lying in a pile of highly flammable oiled wood, which might have the chain that holds all of the cages suspended from the ceiling draped with pelts that are directly over the woodpile. I am giving you the keys to your freedom, child of volcanoes. Use it as you see fit."
And on that note, Raven went to sleep.
------
The darn foolish human wouldn't get up! After the cages had collapsed unceremoniously to pieces on the floor and their occupants had fled the raging inferno that had become of the bandits' hideout, Narak had tried to awaken and rescue Raven, the human to which the young Ny'vene now owed his life and loyalty. And the jerk just refused to get up!
"Raven, you're going to burn to death!" Narak shrieked. "Wake up! You have to get put of here!"
"Fire-kin, I am awake," the human grumbled sleepily. "Go 'way."
"Mischief maker! Get up!" Narak was frantic.
Raven shot up like a vorkid after a treat. "What did you just say, fire-bringer?" he demanded. "How did you know to say that?!"
"...I guessed? It seemed fitting?" Narak tried.
"Just wait a moment more, perceptive little Ny'vene. I just need this to touch flame," he extended his cuffed hands to reveal a magic orb of some kind or another, "and I shall walk free once more. It's the key," Raven clarified at Narak's blank expression.
"Give me that," Narak exclaimed, snatching the orb and flinging it into the raging flames that by now were nigh upon inescapable. Oh, crud.
Raven languidly stretched his arms out, "Freedom. So wonderful."
"I know the feeling but come on we have to get out of here before you die!" Narak practically begged the man.
He cracked a grin. "You may be a child of fire, but you are not by any means the only one in the room. I shall be absolutely fine, Narak. Although your concern was touching."
Narak glared.
"Uh.."
Narak continued to silently stare at the man who he was now absolutely certain was no human.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'll not trick you again, I swear it."
"So...I think the building is going to collapse. Can we leave, Raven?"
"Yeah. Of course. I nearly forgot about that."
The
There is a legend among the sylestis of the Great Ice Lands to the North, of a mischievous man called Raven, who spoke the tongue of the land and tamed fire itself, a man who could raise volcanoes and who could destroy much, but who chose to create instead. A man with golden eyes. And a loyal, clever Ny'vene by his side.
I wrote this on my phone please excuse the typos |
Sry if there r typos - my laptop keyboard is breaking so sometimes the keyboard doesn't register when i click.
The black and white luffox glances over her shoulder, terrified, her name is Brook. She was trying to escape slavers. Recently a band of ex-bandits started capturing and selling sylestias in the black market. They had already captured her mother, Brenna, Father, Spring and little brother, Talen. She didnt know if she would ever see them. As she was running she stumbled over a small rock. A cry of terror escaped her mouth. She craned her neck around and saw to pure black lupora racing up on her jaws open wide, eyes crazy. Some sylestias joined the slavers for many reasons, some where just evil, some did it protect their family, some were forced, and lastly a few had been born in the slave camp and were taken and raised to be slave catchers by the slavers.
Brook cowered as the luporas got so close she could see the whites of their eyes. She felt teeth meet and scruff and the feeling of being lifted and swinging threw the air. Brook soon felt a strong pair of hands grab her roughly and throw her in a cage. She soon sunk into an exhausted sleep.
She woke up to a small paw in her side. "Brook?" a small voice said. Brook bolted up right. "Talen?!" she said and practically jumping on him, hugging him hard. "Are Momma and Papa here?" Brook asked. "There right over here, follow me!" Talen said, his fluffy tail almost wagging in excitement. Brook followed Talen, gazing around the large barn like cage she was in. She saw a lighara cub shivering against her mother's side. A male lupora was in a corner, it looked like he was crying. Sad sights like these were all over the barn as tortured sylestias gave up hope, but none of that mattered when Brook saw her parents. She sprinted ahead of Talen when she saw them and leapt into their open paws. She felt Talen wiggle in between them and suddenly Brook knew. Nothing mattered when your with family and you can survive anything. She knew that they would survive this even if they never escaped.
2 years later
Brook and her family were finally free. Brook had convinced the other slaves to rebel and fight back. The crying lupora she had seen when she had first been captured was named Harley. He was on of her top fighters and close friends now. Brook was proud of what she had accomplished and hoped that the other ex-slaves were proud of them selves too. Brook was broken out of her thoughts by her brother racing up to her. Brook gazed at him fondly and felt a tinge of anger that his childhood had been stolen but kept her voice light and happy as she asked him what he wanted. "Come play with me!" he said, gazing at her with wide eyes. With a happy laugh Brook leapt up and ran down the hill calling "Catch me if you can!"
With a happy laugh Talen chased after her, free at last. |
