Miasma

Miasma had been crossing the length of the Highland Scrub mesas when the Shade-Touched descended upon him. He could just make out the crumbling columns of the Hewn City to the north, when a viscous shadow cast over his vision, scratched at his wings, and tried to drag him out of the sky. With a thunderous roar of surprise and anger, Miasma twisted his head around to his back, snapping his jaws at the entity that clung to his shoulders. Its "body" felt like molasses on his fangs, and pulling hard he tore it off his scales and flung it away from himself.

The impact of the shadow against Miasma's back stole most of his momentum and left him disoriented. With rapid, powerful wingbeats he attempted to right himself, but before he could bring his descent under control he was beset by two other Shade-Touched creatures. One grappled with one of Miasma's wings, hindering his attempts at righting himself, while the other landed on his neck and began clambering up towards his head.

Miasma unfurled his wings to their greatest span and quickly twisted his body in midair, attempting to dislodge the formless entity from his wing. The Shade-Touched held fast, digging something like claws into the leather. Miasma swiped at the other Shadow approaching his head, but it had crawled far enough along his long neck that his short forelegs could not reach it. Now beginning to panic, Miasma wildly flailed as he freefell, desperate to be rid of the amorphous stowaways.

The sight of the dry, cracked ground far below rapidly approaching filled Miasma's vision just before it went dark.

---

It had been some time since Miasma first awoke in the Shade-Touched prison, bound by chains and a cord wrapped around his snout, keeping his jaws shut. The light was low such that he could hardly see his own paws on the ground in front of him (he supposes his dark scales probably didn't help with that). By now Miasma was quite sure he knew the reason for such darkness; this was where Shade-Touched kept creatures they planned to Turn, a process made far easier when the victim's spirit is weakened. He could tell he was far from alone in his captivity, the scents of other creatures and the sound of indistinct shuffling and wordless vocalizations giving away the presence of many other prisoners.

Miasma couldn't tell how many of his fellow prisoners were dragons, but he knew there was one chained very close to him. Miasma couldn't see him, but the young dragon had very quickly made his presence known after Miasma first came around. He talked constantly, so much so that Miasma had taken to calling him "Chatty" in his head (Chatty would not share his real name, to protect anyone he may be close to from the Shadows). Miasma's contributions to the conversation were restricted to inarticulate growls and huffs, though it did not seem to bother Chatty much, who seemed plenty capable of talking enough for the both of them and then some. Many times Miasma wondered how he never lost his voice.

If Miasma had to guess, he would've said that Chatty couldn't have been imprisoned for much longer than himself. He was too... cheerful, too hopeful to have been there for long. Chatty talked about anything and everything, from his home in Flotsam Town to tales of his reckless excursions into the Emperor's Wake. He spun stories of sunlight and hope, and despite Miasma's suspicions of delusion it did much to thin the gloom hanging over the Shadows' dungeon. Just once, in a voice far smaller than usual, Chatty told Miasma of the dragoness he loved more than anything else, who was the most beautiful in all of Sornieth. He had still been working up the nerve to propose when the Shade-Touched had come for him.

---

It was difficult to judge the passing of time in the vast oubliette, but Miasma knew it had been a while because Chatty had stopped chatting, probably asleep. A shuddering scraping that Miasma could only guess was the entrance to the prison opening heralded the arrival of of their captors. Occasionally, the Shade-Touched would come to take away a creature, undoubtedly to turn it over to the Shade. This time, Miasma heard them come quite close to him. Concerning close, in fact. With a clank of chains and the scratch of claws against stone, a surprised squawk in Chatty's bright voice shocked Miasma to attention. Pulling on his short chains in confusion, he attempted to reach out to Chatty but he could hardly lift his paws off the ground. Even as Chatty's voice began to fade as they moved away, he called out to Miasma specifically, assuring him that everything would turn out alright. As the shuddering scraping echoed through the prison once again, Miasma desperately wanted to believe him.

Miasma didn't bother trying to keep track of time after Chatty had been taken away. He laid on his belly on the ground, paws tucked underneath himself and his head bowed low with his eyes shut, trying only to think of nothing at all. His attempts at dissociation were interrupted, however, when he felt a tremor in the stone beneath him. Raising his head in a pointless effort to look around, he felt another tremor, this time accompanied by sound of a great blast, distant and muted by the sheer depth of the stone chamber. Now risen to his feet, Miasma scratched at the ground as he anxiously awaited who or whatever just cracked open the Shadows' prison. A thunder of hooves on stone and wingbeats of many sizes approached, and a large unit of Centaurs, Harpies, and dragons burst into the prison and began working to free the captives.

---

Miasma's memory of the emancipation is rushed and hazy; he had never expected to leave either alive or as himself. When he was finally led outside, a Centaur under each wing to support him, even the evening sun's low light stung his eyes. He was led to a space to rest with several other freed dragons as he regained his bearings. As he came back to himself, he asked every dragon and Beast who came near if they knew, saw, or hear anything about a recently Shade-Touched who resembled a young dragon. No one could tell him anything. Miasma had no way to know for sure if Chatty had been taken to be made into a Shadow or if he simply had been executed for being annoying, but he does know for sure which both he and Chatty would prefer.

---

Miasma settled into the Spire's Canyon a few years after he was freed from the Shade-Touched. He had spent much of his recovery from his captivity debating with himself on whether he should search for Chatty. Ultimately, he decided against it, believing that Chatty would not have wanted him to live out his days searching for a dragon he truly did not know much about. Instead, he found a home where he could live content and serve a good cause. And as the Tidelord would have it, he met another young dragon, an Ancient Gaoler, who was just as talkative as Chatty had been (Miasma suspects he might somehow be more so. He never thought he'd see the day.). Seshii endeared himself to everyone, and Miasma was not exempt. Miasma did not believe this to be merely coincidence, and swore to himself to watch Seshii's back as they served, and to do his best to protect him from harm.





- Almost never speaks. He's always been that way, nothing happened to him that caused it
- Conversation with Stiilis about the prison break?