FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 21

The City Hall was teeming with people, their nervousness and anxiety thickening the atmosphere, increasing the felt temperature by several degrees, past the comfort level of a body where it withheld from producing sweat.

The noise also reached highs of irritation, with so many people inside, their constant chatter and whispers turned their voices into an unending rumble like wind blasting against your head when you fly too fast.

The gathered crowd was surrounded by hulking dragons wearing blue coats on their intimidating armors, they were like statues from nightmares among the restless rabble, perfectly stoic, with their eyes only following the more rowdy individuals who seemed to be close on crossing a very thin line separating them from the Guardians.

It was standard practice during heated times like this, usually the City Hall and the Guardians are opened to everyone, there are naturally guards around but they usually keep a respectful distance between the petitioners and the rulers of Warfang, keeping to the shadows.

However, in a life of every major city comes a time where its populace does not seem eye to eye with their leading guides, a crowd was like a hurricane, it takes only several tugs to make it spin into a tornado, it takes only a few more emotional, loud people and you have unrest brewing at your doorstep.

Emotions are a weapon bigger than any blade, giving people a false sense of judgment of their strength, not aware that most of the times their tall weapons are only strong at the handle, the rest is as fragile as rotten wood.

Nevertheless, hundreds of rotten swords would still bury a single, well made one.

Hence when people started pouring into the City Hall the guards acted just like their training asked them too, whatever were their personal feelings about the matter where unimportant when duty called and since they were wearing the coats of the guard their duty demanded that they protect the Guardians from harm.

Being in the guard asked of you to keep your emotions in check and even though there were several dragons with blue coats who supported the worries of the people they still stood as a proud line of defense, because they understood that order and discipline can achieve more than emotional chaos.

Supporting the valiant guards were two Guardians, Terrador who was massaging his already sore throat and Cyril who observed the rabble with barely contained contempt, seeping water from a cup, to stiffen the cinders of his burning rage more than to silence an actual thirst.

"I told you all that we should have never trusted a black dragon or anyone who blindly follows one! It's Malefor reign all over again!"

Cyril growled into the cup, clenching it tightly, tips of his claws flashing with chilling mist.

"First of all, Malefor was purple" the Guardian hissed, smashing the cup against the table "Secondly, instead of trying to find a victim to blame for all your troubles it would be better to sit down and think why you allowed such a situation to occur. Were there perhaps any signs that something is wrong? Perhaps you trusted someone so blindly that you haven't seen the truth. Catastrophes are a complex process, there is always someone brewing the acid, yes, but the trigger always comes from somewhere else, it should be in everyone's good nature to realize when he becomes one"

The crowd stirred, due to the noise it was difficult to tell if the people even listened, this was after all not their first attempt at trying to dissuade the folks from trying to pinpoint their troubles to a scapegoat. Cyril was also a supporter of this tactic, knowing just well that the one guilty, really guilty will never cross the mind of these simpletons.

And witch hunt is something they don't need.

At least right now.

"That's a load of crap! Where are the ones responsible? Where are the black dragons, we are not blind! We know they were sent away, that you're protecting them!"

"Nobody is protecting anyone here" Terrador's voice boomed over the rumbles of the crowd "We all are doing our jobs, the case is under an investigation, we aren't excluding any possibilities here, but we are talking about justice here and there would be none to find if we would lock up the ones who obviously helped us during the crisis"

"That's just insane! You want us to believe that all of this happened because of some twisted bad luck!? We all know who is to blame for all of this!"

The crowd let out a cheer of approval.

"That we do" Terrador nodded, waving his paw around the hall "They all are in this room right now"

The cries became less determined.

"It is exactly like Cyril said, we all are responsible for this, we have failed to see or accept the signs that undoubtedly were there. I'm sure that each and every single one of you will find one peculiar case that you rationalized by force if you look back. No matter what the investigation will bring, one deduction will remain unchanged, we all had failed as citizens, we all were blind to the danger spreading its tentacles around our city"

The populace began to share doubtful whispers among themselves, the Guardian's words striking a nerve.

Cyril was the only one who didn't drown in the contemplation of the past, in fact the people's search for flaws only made him more angrier, he had no doubt that these sheep were too attached, too blind to see the truth, only a handful might graze the straw of reality, but in the end he will be alone in seeing the veracity and the real parasite feeding off of this city.

Ancestors be damned, if people were as active as during the wars they would never waste time looking for faults because then they would be prepared and never fail.

They would be wolves.

But first the wool needs to be burned down.

Still, these idiots were his people nevertheless, if there will be only a handful who will see reality as it is it was still better than nothing. At least that would give him some sense of hope that Warfang can still become the capital its name calls it to.

"This just sounds too easy, you all saw what that thing did! It had to be a part of a plan of some mastermind, it cannot be simply our ignorance!" an elder dragoness raised on her hind legs, spreading her forelegs wide as she addressed the crowd with her worried tone

Both Guardians looked at each other, silently admiring the perception of age, the passage of time teaches us habits and signs to look out for, experience cannot be so easily fooled. Both Guardians were aware that if more souls like this elderly dragoness are among the populace and there were undoubtedly clever souls in this city, they will finally dig deep enough and slip from reason eventually, it was the cruelty of this world that demanded blood to be paid by blood.

And only one of the Guardians had an idea how to satisfy that craving.

"Be assured that the responsible will be punished" Cyril addressed the crowd confidently, gaining their attention in an instant when he called out to their feral thirst for vengeance

Terrador gulped, remaining idle as a stone as he stared at his icy friend, betraying no sign that the ball of saliva he just swallowed caused him anxiety. The only thing that betrayed his nervousness about the path that Cyril decided to took in this conversation was his tapping gently back leg, the drumming of his claws as quiet as a heartbeat.

"The essential lesson here is that your awareness has failed, you must improve in that matter so a situation like this recent one will never happen again. I swear to you that the one who was a pawn in this will make a mistake, our enemy will try to make a move again when we will recover, that you can be certain of, remember that our foe struck us when you felt impenetrable, this chaos, this stress only feeds our opponent's sense of victory" Cyril clenched his paw into a fist, his foreleg turning into a brick of ice right to the shoulder "Prepare and learn, provoke, become impenetrable once more and our foe will strike again no doubt, this time however we will be the ones setting up the ambush, when our foe shows" the dragon smashed his ice covered leg into a nearby column, the blow causing the shards of his once protected foreleg to fly everywhere "We will be the ones who'll do the crushing!"

A moment of eerie silence befallen on the hall, the once lively and active people became still as if frozen in time, the only sound that could be heard was the serene and patient breathing of the many guards.

"That's right" a whispery voice echoed from inside the group somewhere, among the overwhelming silence it still felt like a thunder

"We must be vigilant" another voice joined the murmurs, this one a bit louder than the previous one

"This time we will be ready!" a triumphant blare came out from the crowd, blare onto which the rest of the people soon clutched to

Nothing remained of the silence, the crowd began to cheer and chant, determination beating from them in waves, the risen temperature from so many throats made the surrounding group of soldiers wince uncomfortably from the heat.

Cyril grinned at the sight, the raving temper from the group scratching his ego in the right way, however his personal victory was nothing compared to the sense of pride he felt for these people. Finally, after so very long he could see them displaying a fighting spirit worthy of wolves.

And it was beautiful.

This alone made him more determined to continue on his path, serving as proof that it will be all worth in the end.

Terrador on the other paw didn't share his friend's enthusiasm, he observed the cheering crowd with visible concern, his eyes darting between the group of people and his smiling childhood friend. Cyril managed to defuse the bomb, but he somehow still could hear a faint ticking somewhere, like an echoing blare of a war drum carried by the wind.

It was spine freezing,

And the longer these people cried, the more the ticking noise drilled into his mind, to the point that he could see the device on the underside of his eyelids as he blinked.

"Go home people! Ponder on what you learned here today!" Terrador grumbled, one paw massaging his aching forehead while the other signaled the guards to escort the people outside

Usually the protectors of order displayed some matter of tiredness and anxiety whenever such an order was given to them, it usually meant listening and dealing with an angry crowd that treated them harshly to put it mildly.

This time however the guards carried their orders with no signs of hesitation, no second thoughts, escorting the people outside who also in turn obeyed the guards politely, something that was also nothing ordinary in crisis like this.

It was not their first meeting with the citizens today, even though it was already evening and one could think that it was all over since they spent so long doing their jobs that they simply had to finish everything.

This suspicion never bore any fruit, each and single day bringing more and more petitioners to their doorstep. Today also seemed to fall under the same pattern, last meeting of the day a precursor for the troubles of tomorrow.

This time however Terrador had a feeling that nobody will show up the next day, Cyril's words had worked their charm, striking the spot in the people's hearts where support was needed the most.

And that worried him to the bone.

"What are you doing Cyril?" Terrador vented out his frustration with a hiss, his entire body trembling when every muscle shook off the bottled up stress

The Ice Guardian turned to his friend, smiling widely.

"What you wished of me. I'm supporting our people"

"By promising them a delivery of a victim they can torture?!"

"Not a victim Terrador. A criminal who's faults call for justice"

"Are you hearing yourself?" the green dragon pointed at the door the people just left, his claw stiffened with anger "You know perfectly well who these people want to punish. We didn't send Cynder away to dig out her grave! You toy with their emotions"

"I never said anything about Cynder, neither did I rise suspicion that she is responsible. Don't take me for a fool my friend, I'm perfectly aware who assisted us and works for us, doesn't matter if his scales are black or pink. Danox and Cynder are safe"

Terrador narrowed his gaze on his friend doubtfully.

"I don't like what you're doing"

Cyril snorted.

"You always dislike everything I do"

"Just think Cyril" green toe tapped the same colored temple "This world has deep scars, people of this world have deep scars and those scars always bleed whenever a catastrophe happens, they bleed black blood. How can you say that Cynder and Danox are safe when the veins of our world are poisoned with blackness? If not them then who is your famous criminal?"

The Ice dragon puffed out a stream of ice from his nostrils as he reached for a cup, gulping down the water that was inside with a single swing. His expression turning sour as he glared at his friend as if the drink he just swallowed was made of bitter lemons.

"Instead of mistrusting me all the time Terrador maybe you will let me do my job? I was tasked with finding the responsible for our missing people and I will do just that"

"I trust you Cyril, I know you're doing it for the well being of the city. What I'm afraid of is that you fail to see the consequences your actions might bring"

"We already seen where inaction led us to" he gazed onto the table near which they all spent long hours, papers were scattered everywhere, some of them carrying different names, some of them were crossed out, many still weren't "I don't believe that we will ever find all the bodies, many of these lost people will never receive a honorable burial. What could be worse than this?"

Terrador joined his friend, the sight of those papers weighed heavily on his heart, each glance upon the sheets was like torture, putting a brick after brick on his stressed out guilt to choke him to death as if someone would press a boot against his throat and slowly kept driving it down.

He did not answer that question, it was unnecessary, both of them knew the truth already. These papers were enough of an argument to convince him to give Cyril's a chance, he was still uncertain how his friend will manage to convince the citizens to keep their rage from backfiring at the black dragons.

But maybe Cyril was also right that it was not necessary to ask this question right now? After all they know the alternative, these sheets of paper a clear evidence of that.

"Look Terrador" Cyril sighed, seeing his friend's troubled gaze "I will do what's in my power to protect Warfang from further harm, justice is what these people want and justice is what we must provide. It is about time that we stomp our paws, we must remind everyone that this city thrived because of order, order which thrived under our watchful eyes. We must show that punishment awaits anyone who dares threaten it"

"Fine Cyril" he looked into his friend's eyes, a friend who for a second blinked with fear, swallowing a bulge of uncertainty "I only hope that you know what you're doing. It will be us after all who will need the strength to look back at our reflection in the mirror"

"I always know what I'm doing" Cyril replied confidently, thrusting his paw to reach for the mug of water, claws of which trembled at the very last second when they were about to touch the pottery.

The mug fell, crushing against the floor, spilling all the water inside onto the tiles. The first wave splashing against Cyril's toes.

He backed away with a hiss, the water stinging him with unrealistic heat as if it was blood spilled from a freshly opened vein.

*

Cyril walked the empty halls of the desolate prison once more, his tail trailing an icy line along the walls, he killed all the lights when he walked back this way for the first time so the only illumination he had was is own breath and the chilly hue the recently dashes of ice pulsed with.

His head throbbed, brain pulsing with effort as it tried to digest the tirade of today's business above, another one in such a short notice. He never thought about abandoning his post as a Guardian, there was simply no one worthy to replace him on this position, but the recent days, unending chore of dealing with so many people who had as many uninteresting things to say as the group before then, really put a wedge in his dedication.

More than once he thought about telling them all to fuck off and just quit, give some fool enough room to prove that he or her can do a better job. However whenever he reached that limit the people seemed to magically cease their cries and shouts and give him some breathing room.

Scared to take such heavy responsibilities on their own shoulders, as it usually is, people have only big mouths, especially in groups but when the time comes that someone is called out to prove his worth suddenly no one is interested in taking the lead anymore.

Fuckers.

He finally reached the spot where one responsible for all this trouble is being held, he leaned in closer, pressing his head against the wall and listened in. That boy was unpredictable, he either is a psychopath who covers his true murdering mug under the appearance of a sweet idiot or he is simply oblivious and dumb.

Whatever the case may be both those things made the boy inside dangerous.

There was absolutely no trace of sound coming from the other side, for all he knew the dragon inside might be already dead. His heart skipped a beat at the thought, not because he was afraid for the well being of the criminal, but because there was a chance he might foil his own plan by his own actions.

Was there any air inside?

He remembered then that this place was used as holding cells in the past, prisoners here were strangers to comfort naturally, but it didn't change the fact that part of the punishment was torture and you can torture people even by limiting their air flow. There were specially made cracks in the walls, tiny enough to let some breeze inside, not enough to fully fill the lungs, but enough to sustain one's life.

Good.

After everything he had done comfort is the last thing this dick deserves.

He opened the door, aura of ice charging around him as he immediately stepped inside, scratching his scales against the rough rocks, blocking with his own body every tiny space as if he would be some farmer entering a pen of his livestock to prevent it from escaping.

He was a farmer of sorts, he was keeping the dragon in a pen after all, yet he would never call him livestock. That criminal was nothing more than a pest.

He was expecting the fire dragon to attack him in all honesty, as dumb as he might be trauma is a thing that cannot be so easily treated and if the things Flare said were true, than being locked up should rekindle bad memories from his past life the young dragon would rather forget.

Flare however did not strike and if not for his flaming aura that betrayed his position in the darkness Cyril would have troubles telling if the dragon is even here.

Then he heard soft humming coming from the corner of the barred cell.

Cyril moved towards the cage, his front paw suddenly loosing footing as it made a step forward, he slipped on something that immediately got thrown away from underneath his scales, making it hard to identify at first touch. He glanced down, spotting a black, sandy substance on the floor, some of it managed to clung itself to his paw.

He sniffed.

It was ash, something burned down here not so long ago.

He frowned, bewildered for a moment, unable to understand what can possibly burn in a stony cell, it quickly became apparent to him what exactly became a victim when he managed spot a tiny bit of a rat's tail lying on the floor near the pile of ash.

It only proved again that the boy is in fact an idiot, as a survivalist he should know not to waste food like that, there are other ways of venting your frustrations in a cell than spoiling your limited sources of nutrition.

"You shouldn't be wasting your meal like that boy" Cyril commented with a smirk "If you keep being stubborn rats might be the only thing you'll ever eat"

He reached the cell, spotting the dragon curled up in a corner, his entire body flickering uncontrollably as if each burning part had its own heart palpitation. Flare's back was turned at him, the young boy did not see him approach, humming something constantly.

It was a monotone tune, probably only a steady sound to pass the time somehow instead of a lullaby or a childish song. Whatever the case may be the dragon seemed to handle the situation pretty well still despite him crying that he didn't like tight places.

Cyril remained silent, waiting for the boy to eventually turn and beg him for freedom, make him reconsider his decision and allow him to see the only thing he cares about.

His friends.

But Flare didn't seem eager to shift his attention anywhere he kept on signing, his body kept on flickering and the longer the Guardian listened and stared at it all the more he became uncomfortable, the steady, unchanging rhythm after a while began to feel like a chant of some lunatic, drilling inside his brain like worms. The constantly flashing fiery parts hypnotic as magical medallions.

Slowly and steadily he felt like was losing his mind in this never changing scene, the surrounding blackness followed by the nonsensical singing was everything that was needed to render sanity worthless. There was already a faint piece of him that wanted to lie down together with that dragon and mutter his own tunes of insanity.

With a furious road Cyril smacked his paw into the bars, paw that was already charged with magical energy. A sharp ring echoed throughout the cell, spiky tongues of ice stretched out towards the red drake after the strike.

"Enough!" Cyril roared again, the icy tendrils stabbing Flare in the back

"Iris?!" the sudden cold touch made Flare scream, not in pain though, but excitement, he sprung up and immediately pushed his body into a spin making absolutely nothing of the rough wake up call

His expression was full of hope and excitement at first, he looked like he was ready to throw himself at the Ice Guardian and drag him into a tight hug. The joyful look lasted only for a while though, after second turning bleak and sad.

"Oh it is only you" Flare whizzed through clenched teeth that rattled slightly as if the dragon was cold

The Ice Guardian narrowed his eyes on the boy, in this damp cave the light the red dragon was giving away was a blessing, this is perhaps why the boy didn't look crumbled yet, despite his cries about hating locked and tight places.

The light was also a curse for him, it taunted him openly, laughing about his lack of power because there was no other way of stopping the flames without killing the host and unfortunately he still needed the latter. There was nothing more disgusting than looking straight into the annoying reflection of your failures.

Nevertheless due to the illumination Cyril could get a good look at the red drake, perhaps that was what kept him from raging. Even though Flare didn't seem to mind much his newly founded housing conditions he could see that this confined loneliness left an effect on him. The corner of his mouth was twitching, followed by a subtle tremble in the leg, somehow Flare was withstanding the worst effects of his claustrophobia but his irrational fear was still slowly eating away at his reflection sanity.

Not good.

It only meant that the dragon won't be so easy to break.

"You should cherish what you have boy, I might be the only visitor you will see for a very long time" Cyril clicked his claw against the bars, emphasizing his threat with a morbid tune

"It's okay, my friends will find me" the young dragon replied, making nothing of the Guardian's threat

"Nobody is going to care about a criminal like you, when the word gets out that you murdered all those people everyone will turn their back on you"

Flare shook his head.

"Not true, my friends like me, I don't have regrets and they like me, even Spyro who I like too. I don't care about the rest. Non friends didn't like me in prison too"

Cyril clenched his fist over the bars, putting a layer of frost along their surface.

In moments like those he really needed to think who was really the prisoner here, no matter how he tries to bend the red dragon's will he remains steadfast in his position that everything is just fine and out of the two of them he is the one actually getting nervous in the end.

He could only wonder if Flare is aware of this mental victories of his, perhaps he isn't, but even a fool like him will eventually figure out that he has the upper paw in this negotiation and this is something he cannot allow to happen.

It would ruin his plans.

And most importantly, it would ruin his stature of dominance.

"I don't think you realize your position boy. When you are here you are dead to the world, nobody will ever find you, nobody will remember you, you will fade from existence"

Flare put a paw on his chest, listening to the drumming heart inside.

"Heart still works, how can I be dead?"

Cyril swallowed bitterly, glaring at the boy as if he was some deathly ill bum that dared to enter the halls of a castle. He could not believe that one could be so stupid, he tried to convince himself that the drake is playing tricks on him, but the longer he stared into his idiotic eyes the more he became certain that this was a cretin.

Intelligent threats won't work in this case, only blunt arguments can reach that empty head and even chances for that being successful are slim.

"Listen to me very closely you imbecile" Cyril leaned in into the bars, his mouth breathing an intimidating mist of ice at the dragon, causing his fiery body parts to flicker roughly, intensifying the trembles on the mouth and leg, to the point that Flare had to smack his shaking paw into his draconic face to cover himself up.

"You will stay here forever, alone and with rats only as your company and even those will leave you if you keep killing them for sport"

"I don't think that's possible, sorry. When the Beast wakes up it doesn't like to be locked up, it gets really angry then"

"Angry enough to slaughter innocent people?"

"Nope, it attacks only worms and purple dragons"

He heard about this Beast, Volteer mentioned the peculiar condition the dragon suffers from, of course nobody knows the origins or what causes it really, but there was no denying that there are times when Flare loses control to his elemental powers, something that hatchlings learn to master in their young age.

This only proved that he was not only stupid but retarded, nothing more, nothing less. A creature unable to control his own birth element is not worth to be called true dragon.

Good. It makes things only easier.

"Look boy, you can spread lies and worthless explanations all you want, but we already know that you're guilty of killing that mole family and you won't avoid justice, not on my watch" Cyril drummed his claws against the bars "But you're lucky you see, I'm one of the few who understands that some of our kind are afflicted by some...curse let's call it and can't control their own actions, why history of the Dragon Realms already marked one such event"

His eyes fell down, towards the corner where the red dragon was lying just a moment ago, his eyes catching the scratches on the wall there which at first glance looked like random scribbles but on closer inspection there was no randomness there.

Those were letters, one were forming a name that was just crossed his mind.

Cynder.

"The dreadful hero of that time is someone you know very well, you most likely heard stories by now" his eyes drilled into the boy "Cynder fell under such disastrous affliction where she no longer controlled her own actions, becoming a toy of her master"

"I know that. Nasty business, Cynder is so cool" Flare shook his head in disappointment

"But you know what she did after? After she regained control?"

Flare looked up at Cyril curiously.

"She did not blame it on some Beast. She knew she was to blame and she accepted it. She was ready to accept justice and it would be a cruel, but a fair one if it came to be. People don't forgive crimes of murder easily. She would be lost if she didn't cooperate, lost like you, but you know what she did?"

"Not really"

Cyril grinned.

"She came to me, asked for my assistance, I was one of the few that did not believe in her fault, not completely, it is normal for the unprepared to become overcome by their element and lose control. But I'm a Guardian, an arbiter of justice, I simply couldn't forgive her because it would anger everyone, so we came to an arrangement that she will assist the city and its warriors with her unique skillset until she pays her debt to the community. And today? She keeps doing my work and is happy about it, people don't bother her that much anymore and she can live her own life as she sees fit"

"You helped Cynder?" Flare frowned doubtfully, cocking his head, he had troubles believing what he just heard, the Guardian visited him several times already and in neither of those meetings he seemed like the assisting type, always throwing threats around and many other things that weren't really friendly

"Assisted, not helped, criminals are still criminals and I won't help and treat nicely those that kill innocents in cold blood. But I'm also reasonable, what's the point of getting yourself locked uo for eternity if we can work together so you can pay your debt of blood? Work and dedication is what keeps moving things forward and whether I like it or not the ones that commit crimes are usually unique skilled, like you"

"I don't get it, how can we work together when you said that I will be here forever with rats as my company?"

Cyril's head throbbed, he could hear a faint, mocking laughter bouncing inside his skull, it was his own arrogance making fun of him. In normal days he would sent a fool asking such idiotic questions away, but he was forced to play this stupid game that bordered on brain damage and made him feel more dumb by the second.

"I will release you naturally and when you complete the task I gave you, you won't need to come back here any longer. Your debt of blood will be paid in my eyes"

"Alright, so what's the job?"

Veins cracked in the Ice Guardian's eyes turning them bloodshot red as if he would have a stroke. He could barely contain his fury, imploding from the inside. He promised the kid a day to rethink his offer, but every time he got down here Flare seemed to forget about what they were talking about the previous day, every time he had to repeat himself, dealing with idiocy was far more tiring than a fight in a grand scale battle.

"You will kill Brill" the Guardian hissed through clenched teeth, his breath freezing

"This again?" Flare dropped tiredly onto his butt, the small tremble across the floor poke the nearby pile of ash of another burned rat

"I told you I won't do it, Coriza likes the stinky mole and Sparx said that it is dangerous to touch guys like him, even when they are wormy and bad because they keep the city together. Sparx said that burning worms and guys like that will make everything fall apart. City will go boom or something and it cannot go boom because my friends like it. Maybe one day even Iris will consider it her home"

Cyril growled.

"How many worms the Beast has burned boy?"

"I dunno, there was this house, I remember also two drunk worms in an alley and there was this one that lied that Coriza was waiting for it or something, that it came to her home to repair something or, or I dunno. There was a few"

The blood in the Guardian's eyes boiled, here was the culprit for majority of the disappearances before the events with the black crystal and here he was listening to this testimony, unable to do anything about it.

He hated the sensation of being defenseless with all his heart, even more so when he had to abandon his own morals for the better good.

"And Warfang still stands does it not? So if a few..." Cyril swallowed bitterly "...worms didn't change anything than one like Brill surely will not as well"

"But he's the king worm, master of the den. Dens are reaalllly deep"

"I don't care, my proposal boy, will you do it or you prefer to rot away in here in total loneliness. Do you want to be like Cynder or not?"

"Of course I want to be like Cynder! She's cool!" Flare's body burst with live flames

Finally they were getting somewhere.

Cyril grinned, his eyes nearly bursting with tears.

"So you will kill the damn mole?"

"Oh no, I won't do that" the drake replied happily

The corner of the blue mouth twitched, blue chest puffed out as if there would be another mouth inside that just roared at the top of its lungs, he could feel the blare rising up to his mouth, clawing its way to the top, causing pain, demanding to be freed.

And he wished for nothing else but to roar, fuck, to wreck this entire place apart and tear the idiot from limb to limb.

The audacity of the boy to toy with him like that. Unthinkable.

He could feel his tongue vibrating with the rumbling fury, the roar was here, ready to be released.

He snapped his mouth tightly shut, biting on his own tongue, the implosion of the blare inside his mouth caused his cheeks to flush and puff out. His eyes watered from the barely contained fury, a tear here and there managed to scoop the blood from the cracked veins and paint the blue scales with a trail of wet red.

He won't give the fool the satisfaction.

But the fucking kid had the unusual ability to drive him insane.

"I see" Cyril backed away from the bars, slipping back into the shadows "It seems you need more time to realize that you have no choice in this matter. I'm sure you are capable of resting here in total darkness, after all you should become best friends by now, just watch for its humors, they say things like to shift and scare us in the dark, all sorts of worms love to feed on our inability to see without the light"

Flare shivered, the tremble on his leg nearly twisting it sideways, sending a strong, sharp pain throughout the bone.

"Why are you trying to force me to kill the stinker?" he hissed, his teeth rattling

"Parasites must be wiped out, this is all you need to know boy" Cyril opened up the entrance, sliding into the limited space so his body could block every opening, last thing he wanted was the dragon to slip through like he did through the bars previously

Flare however remained in place, he was a strange boy, for someone who obviously doesn't like being here and was forced to be locked up without a warning he seemed oddly peaceful. You might expect that he would fight for freedom, for the desire to see his friends again, hell, at least argue, but no, nothing like that happened.

He did not rise his voice once during their meetings.

Cyril could not comprehend what was wrong with the kid, but the longer he spent time with him, the more he felt that he was falling into a pit of mental decadence, pulled by a void where only the psychopathic thrive.

"Just a friendly reminder before I go" Cyril smirked, his head was the only thing that poked through the door "Rats are primitive, but if you keep slaughtering them even they will realize that it is dangerous to come here, you might consider that if you don't want to get hungry" fangs glistened menacingly in the fading light "Just a friendly advice"

"Wait! It's not hunger! The Beast needs to-"

Cyril did not care, he slammed the door tightly shut, silencing the boy's cry.

He pressed his head to the wall, letting out a prolonged exhale, his entire body shaking violently, all the bottled up stress finally finding a way to lessen the pressure.

Moments like this one were the trigger for thoughts about his age, thoughts circulating around one theory, that he was simply getting too old for this. While he wasn't a personal fan of being docile, in his opinion in this world you always had to display strength to not be devoured, there were times where he thought that perhaps oblivious peace wasn't that bad.

It would at least spare him the headaches.

Maintaining this façade of confidence was tiring, this unending roller-coaster of doubt and certainty was taxing, he could feel he was getting older quicker in those few weeks than he did for the last several years. He came here determined that his plan is right, the meeting above motivated him enough and now, after the visit, all of it was gone, letting doubt take control again.

Shit.

And now to make things better he could hear Terrador's voice whispering warnings about consequences in his head.

He convinced himself however that this is how parasites work, they have to be discrete to feed otherwise their host would immediately realize that something is wrong. Brill was nothing more than a bug in need of stomping.

He had to be.

He just needs to push through this and it will be all over, the city will be saved and people will open their eyes.

They will get ready for future troubles that undoubtedly will come.

Such perspective is worth every price.

He has to see it through, to the end this one thing.

This last time.