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Under Ice Chapter 10 [Discontinued]
Zag's idea to escape out the vent may not have been the best one, but surely, they can salvage this situation, right? Right?
Kinda short. Had to work on it between writing commissions. Had fun though :P
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>> [Discontinued]
Under Ice
Chapter 10
Zag grunted as he hauled on Rangavar’s legs. The more slender dragon really had looked like he’d fit. Despite his insistence that he wouldn’t, Zag had pressured him anyway, and now he felt pretty bad about it. Although the only thing left to do at this point was just free the stuck dragon and brainstorm a better plan.
He wasn’t expecting the noise of the mechanical lock on their door. Startled, Zag could only turn toward the front of the room, crouching over Rangavar’s back half as the metal panel slid open. A blue-gray dragon entered the room with two full trays of something. Zag didn’t have to be telepathic to know what she was thinking, since he could tell from her expression that she’d been expecting literally anything other than this.
Zag flattened his ears at having been caught. Unsure what to do, he said, “He wanted some fresh air.”
“I… I have to go get a supervisor,” she said awkwardly, leaving the room and shutting the door quickly behind her. He could hear her talk to several other voices in the hallway outside, but they all set off down the corridor together. Zag groaned and smacked his forehead.
“Nice going. Real convincing.”
“Shut up, Rangavar,” Zag grumbled. He tried not to panic, but what were they going to do now?
“Probably what we were already doing,” Rangavar retorted, not bothering to hide the fact that he was picking through Zag’s thoughts. “Finish pulling me out and we’ll think of something.”
The same moment, Zag could already sense several more dragons coming their way. He knew Rangavar would be able to, too. “I think it’s too late.”
No matter how much annoyance Rangavar was radiating, it didn’t change the fact that several moments later, the door slid open again. This time, several dragons stepped inside.
“So, what’s going on in here?”
Zag flattened his ear’s at the bluish dragon’s glare. The other dragon wasn’t armed or anything, but the way he held himself was intimidating. Zag supposed all of the other dragons coming into the rooms holding guns were pretty intimidating, too.
“Was this really your idea?” The dragon suddenly gestured at the scene before him, cutting off Zag’s thoughts. “You two thought you should just… leave?” They both knew the word ‘leave’ was up to interpretation.
Zag tried ignoring the dragons with guns. He wasn’t sure where to look. He knew the only thing he looked right now was guilty. “When you told Jeroshe we had to stay here, you told him we wouldn’t be harmed. You didn’t say we were prisoners.”
“Well clearly, you can’t be trusted not to leave,” the other dragon pointed out.
Yeah. That was fair. Zag didn’t really have a good retort to that one, but he did think of something to add. “We don’t mean anything to Garren, so you don’t have a reason to keep us here in the first place.”
“Think you could tell them to pull me out of here?” Rangavar telepathically interrupted.
Zag tried to keep his expression neutral as he thought back, “I’m a bit busy!”
Rangavar huffed. “I don’t want everyone just staring at my ass.”
Zag carefully resisted the urge to look over his shoulder at the vent. “I need to convince these dragons we’re worthless so they let us go.”
“How are you going to do that? Garren seems to actually like us,” Rangavar pointed out. “If they call your bluff, it might make things even worse.”
“I’m trying to think.”
The stern voice of the dragon interrogating him suddenly snapped him back to the outside world. “You think Garren wouldn’t come to the meeting?”
“I mean…” Zag gulped. “His job is to protect the Iylarians… which, we’re not.”
The bluish dragon cast a doubtful glance at Rangavar. Or, what he could see of his back half, at least. “You two don’t… believe, you’re Iylarians?” It made sense he’d take one look at Rangavar and notice the startling ‘similarities’.
Meanwhile, Zag wondered if he might have better luck. “I’m from Miynfell,” he explained, which he was sure would be a nonsense word to these dragons. But hopefully it drove home the point that he was from quite far away. “And, we’re both a different species. We’re not Faerians,” he insisted. That last part probably sounded like downright bullshit, if these people were stranded here before knowing there were multiple species of bipeds, but they at least couldn’t deny the more visible features like the Darkals’ extra horn and black claws.
The other dragons seemed curious, but still uncertain. The dragon in charge glanced at Rangavar again for a long moment. Then he turned to the two other dragons closest to him. “I’m bringing the fat one back to Michor for a chat. Keep an eye on the one that’s definitely Iylarian.”
“Tell them I’m not Iylarian!” Rangavar thought in annoyance.
“I mean, you kind of are, though.”
“Zag!”
“Look, if I press my luck too far, they might think I’m lying about the whole thing.” Zag gulped again nervously. His mouth felt dry. “As it is, if I can talk to this Michor guy, maybe I can make some headway on getting us out of here.”
“You know, we could have just waited until Garren and Jeroshe and Rift got together with him tomorrow.”
Zag knew he was right. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that he’d already fucked up. “Sorry.”
“Let’s go,” the other dragon said gruffly, turning and stepping back out into the hall. Zag cautiously followed. Maybe all he had to do now was convince their actual leader that it was a misunderstanding. All he and Rangavar had ever really wanted from them was the rotor blade to fix their ship, after all. They didn’t really have anything to do with their neighborly disagreements.
Feeling slightly more optimistic by the time he arrived at the leader’s office, Zag confidently followed the head guard into the room.
“What do you think we should do about him?”
“We could just leave him there.”
“I mean, that would be hilarious, but I think we’d get in trouble.”
Rangavar was quickly growing bored of the two guards standing behind him discussing his fate. He rested his head on his paws, ears flat, trying to keep his tail from flicking in annoyance.
“We’re supposed to make sure he’s unharmed.”
“He won’t come to any harm. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”
He hoped Zag could convince Michor to let them both go. Rangavar knew he, personally, was at a disadvantage—actually looking and being Iylarian by blood wasn’t really helping his case. It wasn’t fair.
“We should probably pull him out now.”
The other guard chuckled. “Yeah, probably.”
Rangavar yelped when he suddenly felt paws on his hips, his head jerking up to smack on the top of the vent. He heard the male guard snicker, but at least the two of them finally started to pull. One of them wrapped his paws around Rangavar’s sides, but the other grabbed hold of his ankles. At first he didn’t go anywhere, his tum stuffed firmly inside the enclosed area, but the one guard hauling while the other pulled at his sides was finally enough force to help him squeeze free.
The taller guard stared down at him. “Bet you won’t try that again, huh.”
Rangavar sat up, glaring up him, but he only smirked in response. “Of course you wouldn’t fit. That’s what you Iylarians get for hoarding all the food.”
“Meh. This one isn’t fat like the others,” the other guard said, tilting her head. Unlike the other guard’s blue-gray scales, hers were a dusty shade of gray-green. “Ironically, the one that didn’t even look Iylarian was fatter.”
Rangavar didn’t like being talked about as if he weren’t there, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Well, he could think of quite a few choice things, actually, but none that would help his current situation. He was pretty sure ‘I’m not Iylarian’ was out of the question, too; Zag had made a pretty good point about that.
“Hey, I have an idea,” the smaller guard suddenly said. She turned and strode out of the room while her coworker looked on curiously. When she reappeared, she had the two trays that the previous dragon had been carrying into their room before knowing what she’d find. Rangavar hadn’t seen it himself, but had still managed to hear the way Zag’s stomach growled at the sight.
The bluish guard raised his brows. “After all that, you’re really thinking about giving him lunch?”
“Well, if we don’t want him trying to escape again,” she shrugged, “why don’t we actually give him both?”
Rangavar flattened his ears. He didn’t like the sound of that. “We already know I can’t escape,” he finally spoke up.
The greener dragon set down both trays before him. “You were getting pretty close.”
He’d expected the food to look rather unappetizing, like anything else he’d seen growing underground on this Vaugh forsaken world. What he didn’t expect was also how boring it was. The stuff looked like some sort of cave moss scraped into a bowl. He squinted at it. Actually, he was pretty sure it was just cave moss scraped into a bowl.
“It’s cave moss,” she suddenly explained, leaving out the fact that it was just scraped into a bowl. Now it was her turn to smirk. “I’m sure an Iylarian wouldn’t recognize it.”
“I know what moss is,” Rangavar retorted, getting tired of being treated as if he were somehow stupid. He supposed it was pretty stupid to get himself wedged in a vent, but to be fair, it wasn’t his idea.
She pushed the bowl at him, leaving him no choice but to take it. “Eat.”
Rangavar wrinkled his snout. Even if he were getting a bit on the hungry side, he had no intention of doing such a thing. “No.”
The guard before him wrapped both of her paws around his, holding the bowl, and forcibly pushed it to him. “It wasn’t a suggestion.”
Rangavar saw the resolve in her eyes, but he couldn’t back away any farther. He was still pressed up against the wall behind him, next to the vent. “It’s not like you can make me,” he growled, trying not to sound uncertain. The two of them seemed patient enough to harass him until Zag finished doing whatever the hell he was doing. Rangavar wondered how that was going, but was too busy to worry about it at the moment. “I’m not going to eat that.”
The guard finally let go of him, if only to gesture to the other guard. “Help me out?”
Rangavar flinched as the other guard suddenly grabbed him. He tried to push the male’s paws away, but between the two guards and Rangavar’s inconvenient position against the wall and the floor, he couldn’t fend them off as the male finally pushed Rangavar’s arms down and held his head toward the female. In turn, she was able to tilt his head and force his jaws apart. “Guess we’ll try the hard way.”
Rangavar squirmed, but it was useless as she held the bowl over him and carefully tipped it into his maw.
To put it mildly, it didn’t taste any better than he’d expected. It had less flavor than the food that the Iylarians ate, and he immediately noticed it was less dense and filling, but it was still similar in texture and had faint traces of similarity to the other cave food. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any choice but to keep swallowing as it as the soft, almost-soup-like mixture was poured down his throat. There was actually far more than he expected, taking a while for the liquid to fill his stomach.
When the stream finally ceased, he snapped his jaws shut and let out a silent sigh of relief. He wryly thought that no matter how bland or strange it was, at least he wasn’t hungry anymore, and the guards could stop harassing him. Which was why he felt concerned when the female picked up the next bowl.
The male guard laughed. “Let’s see him try to crawl through the vent after having double the serving.”
Rangavar tried squirming his way out of the guard’s grip again, but with the guard still leaning over him at an awkward angle, he could hardly move. “There’s no reason to do this,” he growled. All three of them were well aware that it was out of amusement, and maybe a little spite.
Unfortunately, the words weren’t convincing enough for the two guards with all the time in the world on their paws, and nothing else to occupy it. “Open up and get it over with, then,” the male snickered. Like before, he continued to hold him still as the female started to feed him the second bowl.
Knowing it was useless, Rangavar stopped struggling and accepted the bowl of food being fed into his maw. Since he’d already eaten, he finally started to feel actually full, and then really, really full as the soup made of mystery vegetation continued flowing. He didn’t understand how Zag did this, willingly, through every meal. Rangavar only felt stuffed, his stomach becoming swollen as more of the food dumped inside. By the time the other dragons were done, he felt purely bloated, and a bit exhausted on top of that. Was this what a food coma felt like? Rangavar wasn’t nearly as familiar with them as Zag.
The guards finally let go, still snickering softly as they looked at him on the floor. Rangavar groaned and rubbed his belly with his paws. Shit, it really was packed full. He could feel it bulging off his midsection slightly. Rubbing his paws over it made it feel a bit better, although not by much.
“Try to escape now, Iylarian,” the male smirked. “See how well you fit in that vent.”
The female stared down at him, her ears pricked forward. “Think we should try to stuff him back in and make sure we did a good job? That would be fun.”
Suddenly the door slid open, startling the three of them. Rangavar had been too distracted to even sense the aura outside.
“What’s going on in here?” The new dragon to appear also had gray-green scales. All of the dragons down here seem to be muted variations of soft blues and greens in particular. This one looked at the guards, then down at Rangavar, and then at the guards again. When she noticed the bowls, she scowled.
“We only gave him lunch,” the male blurted. Rangavar could sense that both guards were intimidated by this dragon. He had no idea who she was. Another guard? Their supervisor? Someone higher than that?
“Where’s the lunch for the other one?” she asked, although her expression said she already knew.
The two guards shared a guilty glance.
“This behavior is unacceptable,” she said sternly. “Since you flippantly wasted two meals on this dragon, I’m inclined to cut both of your rations for today.”
The male guard’s eyes widened. “What?! You can’t do that!”
“Please don’t do that,” the female guard said more softly. Her ears flattened beneath the other dragon’s glare.
The new dragon sighed. “Then I’m doubling the length of your shifts.” She’d barely finished speaking before the guards readily nodded. She crossed her arms. “Don’t get too excited. You’re both still on thin ice.”
“It won’t happen again!” the female guard assured her, the male quickly nodding along.
Rangavar got the impression that they were young and naive. He also found the entire exchange interesting. Wasting food? The new dragon in the room was treating it as some sort of devastating crime. Was food tightly controlled? Was it harder to find this much deeper underground? It was certainly true that everyone down here seemed on the scrawny side. Rangavar had seen the Iylarian’s bountiful garden first-hand, yet these dragons treated food like a rare commodity. How could a community of dragons with ten times the resources at their paws, somehow end up even stingier about food than their less advanced rivals? Not to mention that their food was somehow, inexplicably, even less appetizing.
The dragon in charge gave a single nod back. “It had better not.” She cast a brief glance at Rangavar. He’d been sitting on the floor the whole time, watching the exchange. The side of her lip curled just slightly. “Especially wasting food on an Iylarian, as if they need the extra calories.”
Rangavar was tempted to keep insisting that he wasn’t Iylarian, but knew it was more or less a lost cause. Instead, he found himself continuing to wonder about the topic. Food was definitely a huge source of contention down here. He’d never gotten that impression from the Iylarian way of life. Meanwhile, these dragons’ culture seemed to take a one-eighty.
“Now, the reason I came here was to take this Iylarian to Michor and send the two of you on your way.” She gestured at Rangavar. “Come.”
Both of the guards watched wordlessly as Rangavar slowly pushed himself to his feet, stifling another groan at how full he felt. He still couldn’t understand dragons doing this on purpose. Eating until they were full, and then eating more? Why?
He still hadn’t come up with an answer as he followed the other dragon out of the room.
Zag tried not to flatten his ears beneath the other dragon’s blank stare.
“Why are you back here?”
With the other dragon relaxing behind his desk and a well-armed guard at his side, Zag was feeling a little intimidated. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Garren doesn’t care about the two of us, so I’m asking you to let us go.”
Now Michor looked annoyed. He cast a glance at the guard. “Did you really bring him all the way here for this?”
“Please.” Zag tried to edge his way back to the topic before he was dragged from the room or something. “Neither of us are Iylarian. Neither of us have anything to do with your… feud, or whatever it is.”
Michor raised his brows. “How strange that Garren sent you both with Jeroshe to witness our conversation, then.”
Zag wasn’t really sure how to explain that one. Vaugh dammit Jeroshe. “We… offered outside perspective.” He hoped his hesitation didn’t show through his voice. “In reality, the two of us were stranded here and taken in before freezing to death. We have no allegiance with them.” In a literal sense, it was true. The Iylarians had supplied them with shelter and some warm clothing, but couldn’t help them further than that. It was why Zag and Rangavar had gone searching for the other dragons in the first place; they’d never intended to stay. Even Garren knew that.
Michor didn’t react for a long moment, watching Zag carefully, processing this information. Finally, he just said, “So, you really mean to tell me that the other dragon here with you isn’t Iylarian, and this is all a big coincidence?”
Zag straightened a little tried to sound confident. “Yes.” He tried to ignore the way that his belly stuck out a bit farther when he did so. He was still feeling a bit shy at being called ‘the fat one’ earlier.
Of course, Michor wasn’t worried about Zag’s body type whatsoever. All his attention was on Rangavar’s obviously Iylarian features. “I don’t suppose you have proof of this.”
“We have a ship above ground with a broken rotor blade preventing us from leaving,” Zag explained. He felt like he might be losing his battle to convince this dragon. Maybe they’d have to wait for Garren after all. At this point, Zag wasn’t sure how he could prove he and Rangavar were separate from what was apparently these dragons’ worst nemesis. Not to mention, asking for their help was probably way out of the question by now. All they could do was try to save their asses now and worry about the rest later.
Michor suddenly waved at the guard. “Find that other dragon and bring him to me. Perhaps this matter can best be worked out by hearing both accounts.”
The guard nodded and quickly exited the room, leaving Michor and Zag alone together. Michor stared for a long moment. “I’ll admit, I’m intrigued by this whole experience. People don’t usually ‘end up’ here.”
“Well, if we fix our ship, we’ll be on our way.” Zag wondered if he should actually bring up the fact that the two Darkals needed their help to fix the part fixed, and just go for it. The worst Michor could say would be ‘no’, right? Or, well, Zag supposed he could also just lock them up again, which wouldn’t be good.
What he ended up actually doing was recounting the events of the distress beacon, their rough landing, and the brief amount of help they’d received from the Iylarians before finding out they would need to move on.
At the end of it, Michor smiled wryly. It was the first time Zag had seen him smile. “This is all very interesting. Although, even if it’s true—which I’m not saying it’s not—“ he added quickly when Zag flattened his ears. “…I just don’t think I could do anything about it in the least.” Folding his paws on his desk, he went on to explain, “I won’t begrudge you seeking help from the Iylarians. Obviously. That would have been reasonable for anyone. But, I can assure you, there is absolutely no way to leave this world. You’ll end up having to stay with them anyway.” He tilted his head slightly. “Or, I suppose, you could technically choose to stay with us. Although I admit that I can’t see why you would.”
Zag could think of a reason, namely that they could help fix the damn rotor blade and send the two Darkals on their way. Why was everyone making this so complicated? “We’re not ready to give up on leaving just yet.”
One corner of Michor’s mouth quirked up again, a knowing expression on his face. “When we first got here, we said the same thing.”
Before Zag could reply, a familiar aura came within range of his senses, and he tried not to let his face betray their telepathy as Rangavar was suddenly led into the room. Apparently, he’d managed to get out of the vent somehow. Probably with help. Zag also noticed he was rather on the bloated side right now, on the verge of a food coma, and wondered why Rangavar got to have lunch and he didn’t.
He was taken back out of his thoughts a moment later by Michor greeting the other Darkal in the room. “Your friend here has told me an interesting story about your origin. Do you care to elaborate on that?”
After Michor briefly explained what he meant, Rangavar readily dove into the topic, his story lining up with Zag’s. Obviously. Since all of it was true and actually happened.
Michor nodded along. He still stared at the dark gray dragon across from him with mistrust, but at least seemed to be warming up as he heard Rangavar’s retelling of their ordeal. The only thing they really left out was about hiding Rangavar’s identity, since it would have entailed admitting he miiight be Iylarian after all, and effectively make sure that Michor would throw them back into a little prison room again.
When Rangavar reached the end, the leader surveyed them carefully while steepling his fingers under his chin. Eventually, he just said, “How interesting.”
Zag and Rangavar stared back, awaiting the verdict. Zag was having trouble getting a read on this dragon’s emotions. He was very calm and reserved, no trace inwardly or outwardly of any negative feelings. Or really any feelings at all.
His eyes shifted to Rangavar. “And where did you say you were from?”
The other dragon didn’t hesitate, his face and voice neutral. “Edaca.” Zag was pretty sure Michor didn’t know where that was, which he hoped only added credibility to their story. It wasn’t an untrue fact. Although it was a fact that they were still hiding from the Iylarians, so hopefully it would never come up in a conversation between anyone, ever. He didn’t like the idea of their web of lies crossing.
“This whole thing sucks,” Rangavar thought. Zag felt inclined to agree.
“Well, as interesting as this all is, the point remains that we still don’t have any way to check your story,” Michor unknowingly interrupted their private conversation.
Zag’s heart sank. Even though all present knew he was the least likely to change anyone’s mind, it was Rangavar who spoke up. “What would we have to do to prove it?”
The other dragon seemed to think seriously for a moment. “Well, I’d say you could show us the ship, but it would require going through the Iylarians’ paths to the surface. Which simply isn’t an option, for obvious reasons.”
Rangavar put out his paw. It made the guard in the room flinch, reaching for his gun momentarily, but the Darkal only used magic to appear the rotor blade into his paw. Zag hadn’t even known he’d gotten it back. He watched carefully as Rangavar presented the bent metal to the leader. “This is the piece that matters to us right now. It’s bent out of shape. And we need it, uh, un-bent.”
Michor was now radiating curiosity as Rangavar gently placed the rather large strip of metal across his desk. Michor didn’t reach out to touch it or anything, but was definitely looking it over. “How interesting.”
A lot of things seemed ‘interesting’ to him, Zag noticed. He didn’t seem to have any real opinions about anything one way or another. Hoping to help persuade him, Zag decided to butt in, “It’s part of the mechanism that generates the power, so it’s crucial to operating the ship.” He wondered if that was ‘interesting’ too.
Michor glanced up at them. “How does it work?”
Rangavar frowned. “Pardon?”
Michor gestured at the blade. “This piece of metal somehow powers the ship?”
This was a question Zag had to step back and purely let Rangavar handle, as the other dragon quickly tried to explain the mechanics. At least Michor seemed to follow along well enough. After listening, exchanging questions a few times, and finally beginning to understand the gist of how the blade worked, he suddenly said, “If we help you fix it, you’ll show us your ship?”
Zag frowned. Getting them to fix it would be a miracle in any sense, but there was something weird about the way he worded it.
Before he could mention it to Rangavar telepathically, the other Darkal shrugged. “That makes sense to me.”
Zag stifled his urge to look over at him and just thought, “Why would they want to see the ship after fixing the blade?” Michor had originally mentioned fact-checking their story, but it seemed a bit strange they’d jump ahead and help, then go see.
Rangavar didn’t reply for a moment as Michor reached out to shake his paw. The other dragon looked eager. “If you’re not with the Iylarians, and you need this blade to run your ship, fixing it in exchange for letting us take a look sounds like a fair trade.”
Rangavar paused and thought, “You really think we should say no?”
Going back to a metal cell underground while awaiting Garren’s meeting? Going back to the Iylarians empty-handed and planning a new escape from this world all over again? As uneasy as he felt, Zag knew they didn’t have much of a choice.
Mentally agreeing, Rangavar shook Michor’s paw. “It’s a deal.”
Michor smiled. “Excellent.” He suddenly gestured at the guard standing nearby. “Get these dragons some better accommodations, and maybe a meal. And send this to the metalworkers downstairs.” He slid the strip of metal across the desk. “I want it back in shape as soon as is possible.”
The uneasy feeling didn’t leave as a new guard led Zag and Rangavar to what was finally an actual, furnished room, although it wasn’t very much bigger than the last. At least it had a real bed that Zag could sit on, which he did immediately. “Well, hopefully lying our asses off about the Iylarians paid off.”
Rangavar shrugged. “All of the stuff about or ship was true. Technically, the fact that we’re not with the Iylarians was also true. We weren’t really lying.” Still, Zag could tell he felt uneasy. He supposed there might be some extra pressure added from the weight of keeping his identity a secret from all involved. Both his family line, and now his entire, actual background—yikes. Zag wouldn’t trade places with him for anything.
At least for now, they were safe, and Zag forced himself to take a deep breath. He slowly let it out through his nose. They could get out of this.
The thought occupied his mind as he leaned back to relax. Although he was still a little miffed that he’d never gotten lunch.
Kinda short. Had to work on it between writing commissions. Had fun though :P
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>> [Discontinued]
Under Ice
Chapter 10
Zag grunted as he hauled on Rangavar’s legs. The more slender dragon really had looked like he’d fit. Despite his insistence that he wouldn’t, Zag had pressured him anyway, and now he felt pretty bad about it. Although the only thing left to do at this point was just free the stuck dragon and brainstorm a better plan.
He wasn’t expecting the noise of the mechanical lock on their door. Startled, Zag could only turn toward the front of the room, crouching over Rangavar’s back half as the metal panel slid open. A blue-gray dragon entered the room with two full trays of something. Zag didn’t have to be telepathic to know what she was thinking, since he could tell from her expression that she’d been expecting literally anything other than this.
Zag flattened his ears at having been caught. Unsure what to do, he said, “He wanted some fresh air.”
“I… I have to go get a supervisor,” she said awkwardly, leaving the room and shutting the door quickly behind her. He could hear her talk to several other voices in the hallway outside, but they all set off down the corridor together. Zag groaned and smacked his forehead.
“Nice going. Real convincing.”
“Shut up, Rangavar,” Zag grumbled. He tried not to panic, but what were they going to do now?
“Probably what we were already doing,” Rangavar retorted, not bothering to hide the fact that he was picking through Zag’s thoughts. “Finish pulling me out and we’ll think of something.”
The same moment, Zag could already sense several more dragons coming their way. He knew Rangavar would be able to, too. “I think it’s too late.”
No matter how much annoyance Rangavar was radiating, it didn’t change the fact that several moments later, the door slid open again. This time, several dragons stepped inside.
“So, what’s going on in here?”
Zag flattened his ear’s at the bluish dragon’s glare. The other dragon wasn’t armed or anything, but the way he held himself was intimidating. Zag supposed all of the other dragons coming into the rooms holding guns were pretty intimidating, too.
“Was this really your idea?” The dragon suddenly gestured at the scene before him, cutting off Zag’s thoughts. “You two thought you should just… leave?” They both knew the word ‘leave’ was up to interpretation.
Zag tried ignoring the dragons with guns. He wasn’t sure where to look. He knew the only thing he looked right now was guilty. “When you told Jeroshe we had to stay here, you told him we wouldn’t be harmed. You didn’t say we were prisoners.”
“Well clearly, you can’t be trusted not to leave,” the other dragon pointed out.
Yeah. That was fair. Zag didn’t really have a good retort to that one, but he did think of something to add. “We don’t mean anything to Garren, so you don’t have a reason to keep us here in the first place.”
“Think you could tell them to pull me out of here?” Rangavar telepathically interrupted.
Zag tried to keep his expression neutral as he thought back, “I’m a bit busy!”
Rangavar huffed. “I don’t want everyone just staring at my ass.”
Zag carefully resisted the urge to look over his shoulder at the vent. “I need to convince these dragons we’re worthless so they let us go.”
“How are you going to do that? Garren seems to actually like us,” Rangavar pointed out. “If they call your bluff, it might make things even worse.”
“I’m trying to think.”
The stern voice of the dragon interrogating him suddenly snapped him back to the outside world. “You think Garren wouldn’t come to the meeting?”
“I mean…” Zag gulped. “His job is to protect the Iylarians… which, we’re not.”
The bluish dragon cast a doubtful glance at Rangavar. Or, what he could see of his back half, at least. “You two don’t… believe, you’re Iylarians?” It made sense he’d take one look at Rangavar and notice the startling ‘similarities’.
Meanwhile, Zag wondered if he might have better luck. “I’m from Miynfell,” he explained, which he was sure would be a nonsense word to these dragons. But hopefully it drove home the point that he was from quite far away. “And, we’re both a different species. We’re not Faerians,” he insisted. That last part probably sounded like downright bullshit, if these people were stranded here before knowing there were multiple species of bipeds, but they at least couldn’t deny the more visible features like the Darkals’ extra horn and black claws.
The other dragons seemed curious, but still uncertain. The dragon in charge glanced at Rangavar again for a long moment. Then he turned to the two other dragons closest to him. “I’m bringing the fat one back to Michor for a chat. Keep an eye on the one that’s definitely Iylarian.”
“Tell them I’m not Iylarian!” Rangavar thought in annoyance.
“I mean, you kind of are, though.”
“Zag!”
“Look, if I press my luck too far, they might think I’m lying about the whole thing.” Zag gulped again nervously. His mouth felt dry. “As it is, if I can talk to this Michor guy, maybe I can make some headway on getting us out of here.”
“You know, we could have just waited until Garren and Jeroshe and Rift got together with him tomorrow.”
Zag knew he was right. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that he’d already fucked up. “Sorry.”
“Let’s go,” the other dragon said gruffly, turning and stepping back out into the hall. Zag cautiously followed. Maybe all he had to do now was convince their actual leader that it was a misunderstanding. All he and Rangavar had ever really wanted from them was the rotor blade to fix their ship, after all. They didn’t really have anything to do with their neighborly disagreements.
Feeling slightly more optimistic by the time he arrived at the leader’s office, Zag confidently followed the head guard into the room.
~
“What do you think we should do about him?”
“We could just leave him there.”
“I mean, that would be hilarious, but I think we’d get in trouble.”
Rangavar was quickly growing bored of the two guards standing behind him discussing his fate. He rested his head on his paws, ears flat, trying to keep his tail from flicking in annoyance.
“We’re supposed to make sure he’s unharmed.”
“He won’t come to any harm. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”
He hoped Zag could convince Michor to let them both go. Rangavar knew he, personally, was at a disadvantage—actually looking and being Iylarian by blood wasn’t really helping his case. It wasn’t fair.
“We should probably pull him out now.”
The other guard chuckled. “Yeah, probably.”
Rangavar yelped when he suddenly felt paws on his hips, his head jerking up to smack on the top of the vent. He heard the male guard snicker, but at least the two of them finally started to pull. One of them wrapped his paws around Rangavar’s sides, but the other grabbed hold of his ankles. At first he didn’t go anywhere, his tum stuffed firmly inside the enclosed area, but the one guard hauling while the other pulled at his sides was finally enough force to help him squeeze free.
The taller guard stared down at him. “Bet you won’t try that again, huh.”
Rangavar sat up, glaring up him, but he only smirked in response. “Of course you wouldn’t fit. That’s what you Iylarians get for hoarding all the food.”
“Meh. This one isn’t fat like the others,” the other guard said, tilting her head. Unlike the other guard’s blue-gray scales, hers were a dusty shade of gray-green. “Ironically, the one that didn’t even look Iylarian was fatter.”
Rangavar didn’t like being talked about as if he weren’t there, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Well, he could think of quite a few choice things, actually, but none that would help his current situation. He was pretty sure ‘I’m not Iylarian’ was out of the question, too; Zag had made a pretty good point about that.
“Hey, I have an idea,” the smaller guard suddenly said. She turned and strode out of the room while her coworker looked on curiously. When she reappeared, she had the two trays that the previous dragon had been carrying into their room before knowing what she’d find. Rangavar hadn’t seen it himself, but had still managed to hear the way Zag’s stomach growled at the sight.
The bluish guard raised his brows. “After all that, you’re really thinking about giving him lunch?”
“Well, if we don’t want him trying to escape again,” she shrugged, “why don’t we actually give him both?”
Rangavar flattened his ears. He didn’t like the sound of that. “We already know I can’t escape,” he finally spoke up.
The greener dragon set down both trays before him. “You were getting pretty close.”
He’d expected the food to look rather unappetizing, like anything else he’d seen growing underground on this Vaugh forsaken world. What he didn’t expect was also how boring it was. The stuff looked like some sort of cave moss scraped into a bowl. He squinted at it. Actually, he was pretty sure it was just cave moss scraped into a bowl.
“It’s cave moss,” she suddenly explained, leaving out the fact that it was just scraped into a bowl. Now it was her turn to smirk. “I’m sure an Iylarian wouldn’t recognize it.”
“I know what moss is,” Rangavar retorted, getting tired of being treated as if he were somehow stupid. He supposed it was pretty stupid to get himself wedged in a vent, but to be fair, it wasn’t his idea.
She pushed the bowl at him, leaving him no choice but to take it. “Eat.”
Rangavar wrinkled his snout. Even if he were getting a bit on the hungry side, he had no intention of doing such a thing. “No.”
The guard before him wrapped both of her paws around his, holding the bowl, and forcibly pushed it to him. “It wasn’t a suggestion.”
Rangavar saw the resolve in her eyes, but he couldn’t back away any farther. He was still pressed up against the wall behind him, next to the vent. “It’s not like you can make me,” he growled, trying not to sound uncertain. The two of them seemed patient enough to harass him until Zag finished doing whatever the hell he was doing. Rangavar wondered how that was going, but was too busy to worry about it at the moment. “I’m not going to eat that.”
The guard finally let go of him, if only to gesture to the other guard. “Help me out?”
Rangavar flinched as the other guard suddenly grabbed him. He tried to push the male’s paws away, but between the two guards and Rangavar’s inconvenient position against the wall and the floor, he couldn’t fend them off as the male finally pushed Rangavar’s arms down and held his head toward the female. In turn, she was able to tilt his head and force his jaws apart. “Guess we’ll try the hard way.”
Rangavar squirmed, but it was useless as she held the bowl over him and carefully tipped it into his maw.
To put it mildly, it didn’t taste any better than he’d expected. It had less flavor than the food that the Iylarians ate, and he immediately noticed it was less dense and filling, but it was still similar in texture and had faint traces of similarity to the other cave food. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any choice but to keep swallowing as it as the soft, almost-soup-like mixture was poured down his throat. There was actually far more than he expected, taking a while for the liquid to fill his stomach.
When the stream finally ceased, he snapped his jaws shut and let out a silent sigh of relief. He wryly thought that no matter how bland or strange it was, at least he wasn’t hungry anymore, and the guards could stop harassing him. Which was why he felt concerned when the female picked up the next bowl.
The male guard laughed. “Let’s see him try to crawl through the vent after having double the serving.”
Rangavar tried squirming his way out of the guard’s grip again, but with the guard still leaning over him at an awkward angle, he could hardly move. “There’s no reason to do this,” he growled. All three of them were well aware that it was out of amusement, and maybe a little spite.
Unfortunately, the words weren’t convincing enough for the two guards with all the time in the world on their paws, and nothing else to occupy it. “Open up and get it over with, then,” the male snickered. Like before, he continued to hold him still as the female started to feed him the second bowl.
Knowing it was useless, Rangavar stopped struggling and accepted the bowl of food being fed into his maw. Since he’d already eaten, he finally started to feel actually full, and then really, really full as the soup made of mystery vegetation continued flowing. He didn’t understand how Zag did this, willingly, through every meal. Rangavar only felt stuffed, his stomach becoming swollen as more of the food dumped inside. By the time the other dragons were done, he felt purely bloated, and a bit exhausted on top of that. Was this what a food coma felt like? Rangavar wasn’t nearly as familiar with them as Zag.
The guards finally let go, still snickering softly as they looked at him on the floor. Rangavar groaned and rubbed his belly with his paws. Shit, it really was packed full. He could feel it bulging off his midsection slightly. Rubbing his paws over it made it feel a bit better, although not by much.
“Try to escape now, Iylarian,” the male smirked. “See how well you fit in that vent.”
The female stared down at him, her ears pricked forward. “Think we should try to stuff him back in and make sure we did a good job? That would be fun.”
Suddenly the door slid open, startling the three of them. Rangavar had been too distracted to even sense the aura outside.
“What’s going on in here?” The new dragon to appear also had gray-green scales. All of the dragons down here seem to be muted variations of soft blues and greens in particular. This one looked at the guards, then down at Rangavar, and then at the guards again. When she noticed the bowls, she scowled.
“We only gave him lunch,” the male blurted. Rangavar could sense that both guards were intimidated by this dragon. He had no idea who she was. Another guard? Their supervisor? Someone higher than that?
“Where’s the lunch for the other one?” she asked, although her expression said she already knew.
The two guards shared a guilty glance.
“This behavior is unacceptable,” she said sternly. “Since you flippantly wasted two meals on this dragon, I’m inclined to cut both of your rations for today.”
The male guard’s eyes widened. “What?! You can’t do that!”
“Please don’t do that,” the female guard said more softly. Her ears flattened beneath the other dragon’s glare.
The new dragon sighed. “Then I’m doubling the length of your shifts.” She’d barely finished speaking before the guards readily nodded. She crossed her arms. “Don’t get too excited. You’re both still on thin ice.”
“It won’t happen again!” the female guard assured her, the male quickly nodding along.
Rangavar got the impression that they were young and naive. He also found the entire exchange interesting. Wasting food? The new dragon in the room was treating it as some sort of devastating crime. Was food tightly controlled? Was it harder to find this much deeper underground? It was certainly true that everyone down here seemed on the scrawny side. Rangavar had seen the Iylarian’s bountiful garden first-hand, yet these dragons treated food like a rare commodity. How could a community of dragons with ten times the resources at their paws, somehow end up even stingier about food than their less advanced rivals? Not to mention that their food was somehow, inexplicably, even less appetizing.
The dragon in charge gave a single nod back. “It had better not.” She cast a brief glance at Rangavar. He’d been sitting on the floor the whole time, watching the exchange. The side of her lip curled just slightly. “Especially wasting food on an Iylarian, as if they need the extra calories.”
Rangavar was tempted to keep insisting that he wasn’t Iylarian, but knew it was more or less a lost cause. Instead, he found himself continuing to wonder about the topic. Food was definitely a huge source of contention down here. He’d never gotten that impression from the Iylarian way of life. Meanwhile, these dragons’ culture seemed to take a one-eighty.
“Now, the reason I came here was to take this Iylarian to Michor and send the two of you on your way.” She gestured at Rangavar. “Come.”
Both of the guards watched wordlessly as Rangavar slowly pushed himself to his feet, stifling another groan at how full he felt. He still couldn’t understand dragons doing this on purpose. Eating until they were full, and then eating more? Why?
He still hadn’t come up with an answer as he followed the other dragon out of the room.
~
Zag tried not to flatten his ears beneath the other dragon’s blank stare.
“Why are you back here?”
With the other dragon relaxing behind his desk and a well-armed guard at his side, Zag was feeling a little intimidated. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Garren doesn’t care about the two of us, so I’m asking you to let us go.”
Now Michor looked annoyed. He cast a glance at the guard. “Did you really bring him all the way here for this?”
“Please.” Zag tried to edge his way back to the topic before he was dragged from the room or something. “Neither of us are Iylarian. Neither of us have anything to do with your… feud, or whatever it is.”
Michor raised his brows. “How strange that Garren sent you both with Jeroshe to witness our conversation, then.”
Zag wasn’t really sure how to explain that one. Vaugh dammit Jeroshe. “We… offered outside perspective.” He hoped his hesitation didn’t show through his voice. “In reality, the two of us were stranded here and taken in before freezing to death. We have no allegiance with them.” In a literal sense, it was true. The Iylarians had supplied them with shelter and some warm clothing, but couldn’t help them further than that. It was why Zag and Rangavar had gone searching for the other dragons in the first place; they’d never intended to stay. Even Garren knew that.
Michor didn’t react for a long moment, watching Zag carefully, processing this information. Finally, he just said, “So, you really mean to tell me that the other dragon here with you isn’t Iylarian, and this is all a big coincidence?”
Zag straightened a little tried to sound confident. “Yes.” He tried to ignore the way that his belly stuck out a bit farther when he did so. He was still feeling a bit shy at being called ‘the fat one’ earlier.
Of course, Michor wasn’t worried about Zag’s body type whatsoever. All his attention was on Rangavar’s obviously Iylarian features. “I don’t suppose you have proof of this.”
“We have a ship above ground with a broken rotor blade preventing us from leaving,” Zag explained. He felt like he might be losing his battle to convince this dragon. Maybe they’d have to wait for Garren after all. At this point, Zag wasn’t sure how he could prove he and Rangavar were separate from what was apparently these dragons’ worst nemesis. Not to mention, asking for their help was probably way out of the question by now. All they could do was try to save their asses now and worry about the rest later.
Michor suddenly waved at the guard. “Find that other dragon and bring him to me. Perhaps this matter can best be worked out by hearing both accounts.”
The guard nodded and quickly exited the room, leaving Michor and Zag alone together. Michor stared for a long moment. “I’ll admit, I’m intrigued by this whole experience. People don’t usually ‘end up’ here.”
“Well, if we fix our ship, we’ll be on our way.” Zag wondered if he should actually bring up the fact that the two Darkals needed their help to fix the part fixed, and just go for it. The worst Michor could say would be ‘no’, right? Or, well, Zag supposed he could also just lock them up again, which wouldn’t be good.
What he ended up actually doing was recounting the events of the distress beacon, their rough landing, and the brief amount of help they’d received from the Iylarians before finding out they would need to move on.
At the end of it, Michor smiled wryly. It was the first time Zag had seen him smile. “This is all very interesting. Although, even if it’s true—which I’m not saying it’s not—“ he added quickly when Zag flattened his ears. “…I just don’t think I could do anything about it in the least.” Folding his paws on his desk, he went on to explain, “I won’t begrudge you seeking help from the Iylarians. Obviously. That would have been reasonable for anyone. But, I can assure you, there is absolutely no way to leave this world. You’ll end up having to stay with them anyway.” He tilted his head slightly. “Or, I suppose, you could technically choose to stay with us. Although I admit that I can’t see why you would.”
Zag could think of a reason, namely that they could help fix the damn rotor blade and send the two Darkals on their way. Why was everyone making this so complicated? “We’re not ready to give up on leaving just yet.”
One corner of Michor’s mouth quirked up again, a knowing expression on his face. “When we first got here, we said the same thing.”
Before Zag could reply, a familiar aura came within range of his senses, and he tried not to let his face betray their telepathy as Rangavar was suddenly led into the room. Apparently, he’d managed to get out of the vent somehow. Probably with help. Zag also noticed he was rather on the bloated side right now, on the verge of a food coma, and wondered why Rangavar got to have lunch and he didn’t.
He was taken back out of his thoughts a moment later by Michor greeting the other Darkal in the room. “Your friend here has told me an interesting story about your origin. Do you care to elaborate on that?”
After Michor briefly explained what he meant, Rangavar readily dove into the topic, his story lining up with Zag’s. Obviously. Since all of it was true and actually happened.
Michor nodded along. He still stared at the dark gray dragon across from him with mistrust, but at least seemed to be warming up as he heard Rangavar’s retelling of their ordeal. The only thing they really left out was about hiding Rangavar’s identity, since it would have entailed admitting he miiight be Iylarian after all, and effectively make sure that Michor would throw them back into a little prison room again.
When Rangavar reached the end, the leader surveyed them carefully while steepling his fingers under his chin. Eventually, he just said, “How interesting.”
Zag and Rangavar stared back, awaiting the verdict. Zag was having trouble getting a read on this dragon’s emotions. He was very calm and reserved, no trace inwardly or outwardly of any negative feelings. Or really any feelings at all.
His eyes shifted to Rangavar. “And where did you say you were from?”
The other dragon didn’t hesitate, his face and voice neutral. “Edaca.” Zag was pretty sure Michor didn’t know where that was, which he hoped only added credibility to their story. It wasn’t an untrue fact. Although it was a fact that they were still hiding from the Iylarians, so hopefully it would never come up in a conversation between anyone, ever. He didn’t like the idea of their web of lies crossing.
“This whole thing sucks,” Rangavar thought. Zag felt inclined to agree.
“Well, as interesting as this all is, the point remains that we still don’t have any way to check your story,” Michor unknowingly interrupted their private conversation.
Zag’s heart sank. Even though all present knew he was the least likely to change anyone’s mind, it was Rangavar who spoke up. “What would we have to do to prove it?”
The other dragon seemed to think seriously for a moment. “Well, I’d say you could show us the ship, but it would require going through the Iylarians’ paths to the surface. Which simply isn’t an option, for obvious reasons.”
Rangavar put out his paw. It made the guard in the room flinch, reaching for his gun momentarily, but the Darkal only used magic to appear the rotor blade into his paw. Zag hadn’t even known he’d gotten it back. He watched carefully as Rangavar presented the bent metal to the leader. “This is the piece that matters to us right now. It’s bent out of shape. And we need it, uh, un-bent.”
Michor was now radiating curiosity as Rangavar gently placed the rather large strip of metal across his desk. Michor didn’t reach out to touch it or anything, but was definitely looking it over. “How interesting.”
A lot of things seemed ‘interesting’ to him, Zag noticed. He didn’t seem to have any real opinions about anything one way or another. Hoping to help persuade him, Zag decided to butt in, “It’s part of the mechanism that generates the power, so it’s crucial to operating the ship.” He wondered if that was ‘interesting’ too.
Michor glanced up at them. “How does it work?”
Rangavar frowned. “Pardon?”
Michor gestured at the blade. “This piece of metal somehow powers the ship?”
This was a question Zag had to step back and purely let Rangavar handle, as the other dragon quickly tried to explain the mechanics. At least Michor seemed to follow along well enough. After listening, exchanging questions a few times, and finally beginning to understand the gist of how the blade worked, he suddenly said, “If we help you fix it, you’ll show us your ship?”
Zag frowned. Getting them to fix it would be a miracle in any sense, but there was something weird about the way he worded it.
Before he could mention it to Rangavar telepathically, the other Darkal shrugged. “That makes sense to me.”
Zag stifled his urge to look over at him and just thought, “Why would they want to see the ship after fixing the blade?” Michor had originally mentioned fact-checking their story, but it seemed a bit strange they’d jump ahead and help, then go see.
Rangavar didn’t reply for a moment as Michor reached out to shake his paw. The other dragon looked eager. “If you’re not with the Iylarians, and you need this blade to run your ship, fixing it in exchange for letting us take a look sounds like a fair trade.”
Rangavar paused and thought, “You really think we should say no?”
Going back to a metal cell underground while awaiting Garren’s meeting? Going back to the Iylarians empty-handed and planning a new escape from this world all over again? As uneasy as he felt, Zag knew they didn’t have much of a choice.
Mentally agreeing, Rangavar shook Michor’s paw. “It’s a deal.”
Michor smiled. “Excellent.” He suddenly gestured at the guard standing nearby. “Get these dragons some better accommodations, and maybe a meal. And send this to the metalworkers downstairs.” He slid the strip of metal across the desk. “I want it back in shape as soon as is possible.”
The uneasy feeling didn’t leave as a new guard led Zag and Rangavar to what was finally an actual, furnished room, although it wasn’t very much bigger than the last. At least it had a real bed that Zag could sit on, which he did immediately. “Well, hopefully lying our asses off about the Iylarians paid off.”
Rangavar shrugged. “All of the stuff about or ship was true. Technically, the fact that we’re not with the Iylarians was also true. We weren’t really lying.” Still, Zag could tell he felt uneasy. He supposed there might be some extra pressure added from the weight of keeping his identity a secret from all involved. Both his family line, and now his entire, actual background—yikes. Zag wouldn’t trade places with him for anything.
At least for now, they were safe, and Zag forced himself to take a deep breath. He slowly let it out through his nose. They could get out of this.
The thought occupied his mind as he leaned back to relax. Although he was still a little miffed that he’d never gotten lunch.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Western Dragon
Gender Male
Size 120 x 116px
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