Captive-Born Meets Held-Captive (Tenebris)

The fifteenth son of Atarijor I looked around as if he expected to something to happen. The Wyvern had woken up in a strange place, a cold place, filled with strange dragons. There wasn't a human in sight, not even Milo, the one who had helped him and the others escape... Atarijor XVI had no idea where he was. All he knew was that for the first time in his life, he didn't feel pain of some sort. There were scars, but most of the less serious wounds--like the lashes from the whips--had healed. Part of his right horn was still broken; the nasty gash along his belly was still a little tender; he was still missing a chunk of his tail.

Atar had slipped away from the place he'd awoken in. It was nighttime, so everyone was sleeping. The Wyvern now crossed the border of IceWing territory and was making his way southeast, toward the NightWings. His choice of direction was completely random, of course. Atarijor felt comfortable in the night, perhaps because all his life, until now, he had never been above ground. He licked at his unusually short snout as he walked along. Atarijor had also never flown before; he didn't know how. More than that, while his arms themselves were strong, the particular group of muscles that would have allowed him flight were atrophied. Atar's stomach rumbled as he walked aimlessly. That was when he noticed that he no longer had the satchel of dried meat Milo had given him. Where would he get food, now? Well, he could always find his masters and ask for some.

Rumours were abound, while the resources utilised by Tenebris and personal agents who swore allegiance to himself rather than the Emperor Oculus provided little more than hearsay and gossip compared to the vast network of spies utilised by the Emperor, the fact Dragons were far less numerous numerous within the Rogue territories thanks to Nightwing expansion then they once more made the hearsay of certain events and characters of individual note far easier to locate. It was in this spread chatter of the reemergence of the Icewings taking a larger role within international affairs after the Nightwing expansion what caused Tenebris worry, should there be spies within the new annexed territory, such a revival and upsurge of activity could be cause for alarm. As Governor of the newly conquered territories it fell to the First Minister Tenebris to maintain vigilance.

Yet it was a matter of a far more intimate nature what had peaked the particular interest of Tenebris at this moment, among the Icewings there was reportedly one of exclusive uniqueness, a Wyvern born within the Captivity of Humans, until recently apparently unable to fly. Such a tale was captivating by many and no doubt this figure would become a renowned luminary hero to tell hatchlings, very few Dragons in history managed to be captured alive let alone escape as Tenebris knew well himself, but a raised Dragon in confinement brought under tutelage only by Humans ti then escape was certainly alluring concept. First Tenebris thought this figure would be just that, a story told, yet it was increasingly on his mind when then reports came from Nightwing hunters and gathers of a noted Icewing in the darkness of the night walking such a great distance on the ground.

Tenebris would see to such to satisfy his own growing curiosity, he would go alone and as he flew high basking into the radiant light of the moon and stars, his form mirroring the night sky due to his reflective speckle silver scales upon his wings, he would cross the infinite ethereal sky with ease, his piercing sapphire glare examining the darkness below as in the intricate and meticulous sight what was blessed upon the Nightwings, taking in all the features below as much ease as though it were the light of day. It was then when the First Minister noticed a figure awkwardly moving across the ground what could only be identified as a Dragon, weary as there was still a chance of the creature being a Rogue who was yet forced to submit to Nightwing rule, Tenebris began his slow descent in a spiral like fashion elegantly.

As the nocturnal First Minister came ever closer to the figure he noticed the distinctive appearance of the Wyvern, whether the Icewing noticed his approach as he closed in on the proximity Tenebris did not care, he would gracefully land several feet in front of the Icewing, finding his stature as he stood in front of the Wyvern, his personage would take of a regal and domineering posture before folding in his wings and lowering his head as a sign of mutual acknowledgement to show that he was no threat. "Greetings there, Icewing, tis' a pleasure. You know you stand within the newly annexed region of the Nightwing Empire yes, explain yourself?", it was a simple question spoken in Tenebris' usual polite yet austere matter-of-factly manner, it would be notable he would speak in the common tongue of Draconians.

The Wyvern was still lumbering across foreign terrain when the dragon arrived. Because of his abnormally short snout--and perhaps too a lifetime of breath rock dust-filled air--Atarijor's sense of smell was poor. He had to rely on his other senses to detect the other dragon. First, he heard wing beats. This scared him, because he had never heard such a noise before. The Wyvern cowered and looked about frantically. He looked up when he saw the light of the moon blocked briefly by something. He saw the dragon flying down. Atar backed up some as the dragon landed; he was too frightened to try getting away.

The dragon spoke to Atar... But Atarijor had no idea what was said. Atarijor knew only one word in dragon's tongue: his own name, spoken to him the moment he emerged from his egg. Yet he himself could not speak it, for the only language he knew was that of man. The Wyvern saw the dragon's posture of regality and domineerance as a threat of punishment. The considerably larger Atarijor tried to make himself look as small as possible as took on a submissive stance. He kept his gaze averted and licked nervously at his abnormally short snout. And then, the fifteenth son of Atarijor I spoke in the humans' language. "Wyvern does not want trouble. I'm... I don't know where I am. I don't know where my satchel is... It had my food in it. Wyvern is hungry..."

Tenebris inclined his head in an inquisitive manner as the exceedingly larger Icewing took a submissive posture, the gesture only confirmed Tenebris's musings once the Wyvern spoke the Human tongue. It was true then that this Icewing broken from captivity within Human lands, it was seemingly an interesting concept to look upon a Dragon which did not know his own species customs and mannerisms. Tenebris could of seen kinship in their shared experience in being under the bondage of Humans, but instead he felt a sad pity for the Icewing. Tenebris was held a prisoner during his adolescent years, but he forever knew his identity and purpose, this Dragon if rumours were true was born and bred under the heel of the Humans.

It was a great sorrow that Tenebris now looked upon the Wyvern in many ways, he himself could of been similar had he been taken while still within the warm embrace of the Egg. It was a grim melancholy Tenebris now had across his expression as he lowered his head in a manner to match the Wyvern as he gesture that he mean't no ill will. "So you speak only the Human Tongue? Tis' a cruel fate you have endured friend. I am Tenebris, I mean you no harm, please, what is your name?", Tenebris attempted to speak in a comforting manner yet his human speech had the accent of the Leostonnian's, famed for their nasal tone what caused them to sound sanctimonious and pretentious. As an after thought to understand the Wyverns acknowledgement of his freedom and how his perception was to his new life he'd add "And tell me, who is your master?"

The Wyvern backed up some when the dragon lowered its head. But then he looked up in surprise when it spoke in human tongue. Atar's demeanor changed some; he seemed less afraid now, but still wary. "Wyvern is named Atarijor XVI. Masters don't know Atarijor is gone. Milo was nice to Aarijor and others. He saved me from the Coliseum and got led us to a tunnel. Wyvern doesn't know who took off muzzle or satchel."

Tenebris would remain with a dignified astute expression as he regarded the Wyvern. At Atarijor's comment the Nightwing would release a soft sympathetic smile, he'd a smile as he spoke the Wyverns name aloud "Atarijor". There was a great sympathetic pity what Tenebris felt for the Wyvern as he truly took in the meaning of his statement. It was a strange concept, especially for one such as Tenebris who's philosophy was based upon the superiority of Dragons and the inferiority of all other races, a bizarre thought crossed Tenebris that perhaps this mind state and fate could of been his own in an astonishing other world had he not had the means presented to him to break his captivity, he couldn't help but wonder how many other Dragon's like Atarijor could still be within the grasp of Humans, raised to be nothing more than instruments to their twisted will. "Would you allow me to show you something Atarijor, something I think you need to see".

[Bump, don't forget about me Baldi! xD]