Sadara

salaldir: ice white obsidian

Black Wolf Cape

Apparel

A thick, warm black wolf pelt fashioned into a cape.

2000

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Maybe it was a Wildclaw thing, to want to be able to fight the strongest of opponents. To test might and mettle against a dragon stronger than you in a duel, to feel the rush of blood pounding in your ears as you fought not only for the right to call yourself the victor, but for your life. There is nothing more exhilarating in this world than staring down Death inhabiting the form of a dragon stronger than you were.

Or maybe it was just a Sadara thing. His clan did often tell him that he was broken. That whoever was watching over him as an egg accidentally dropped him one too many times. It's become a game in the clan to lightheartedly tease Sadara about his insatiable bloodlust. It's to make up for how innocent he looked. He was actually a Plague dragon with Wind eyes to mask his brutality. He had all of the aggression his clanmates lacked.

It was a new theory every day, and Sadara had laughed along with them. He didn't care about the why, only that whatever the reason, Sadara was never truly satisfied unless he had someone's blood in his mouth or one of his wings crushed beneath another dragon's foot. He knew his clan had merely been joking when they said that Sadara was broken, but honestly, Sadara believed them.

No normal dragon would bare teeth and lunge for another's throat as a greeting. No other dragon would mercilessly shred another's wings as a warning. No one but Sadara considered being beaten in a fight to be the most thrilling experience of life.

Sadly, that thrill didn't come often. All the aggression, the fighting, and the experience that came with it, meant that Sadara had become quite the formidable foe. There were few left in his home and the territories surrounding it that dared to accept his duels. To refuse a duel would be to lower oneself in the hierarchy, but to accept a duel from Sadara would be death.

Life was more important than honour, apparently, and however cruel the thought may be, Sadara was only upset by the fact that he won't be able to have any fun. Which, in all fairness, was a horrible thought to have.

He remembered Ybium, some Wildclaw whose mate had challenged Sadara to a duel for something or other. It was a quick death. When Ybium's mate had died, throat torn open, the only thought that had gone through Sadara's head was that it was a boring fight. He had seen the aftermath, seen Ybium wail as he curled around his mate's lifeless body. Her green eyes stared up up up, towards the sky where her soul likely was, floating free like any of Wind's children.

Even as Ybium turned to Sadara with fury, he could not help but think of how he didn't even get a scratch during their fight. When Ybium then challenged Sadara to a duel, to the death, the only thing that ran through Sadara's mind, was the hope that Ybium would be a better opponent than his mate.

He was not.

Both of them were floated down a river together, limbs entangled, intertwined even in death. And while it was Wildclaw tradition to have history and justice side with the winner of physical combat, Sadara didn't miss the way his clanmates eyed him warily. Broodparents pulled their hatchlings close, some of the fighters adamantly refused to acknowledge his presence. One of his childhood friends, a feminal Mirror who had sparred with him so often before, suddenly had something close to fear in her eyes.

And again, Sadara felt guilty at not feeling guilt, of feeling nothing but disappointment after a boring match.

The decision to leave hadn't been his, but his childhood friend's. Salaldir looked as resplendent as ever, with her jagged teeth and sharpened claws. She looked deadly, violent, strong enough to kill. It was all just appearances, though. For all of her posturing, Salaldir would lose, easily, if the two of them ever fought.

No one in the clan could stand against Sadara. It was depressing. He hadn't had fun in years. Salaldir, to her credit, understood. And though she looked at Sadara as though he were a stranger now, Sadara still couldn't bring himself to care.

"You've changed," Salaldir sighed, sadly. As though her emotions would affect the dragon Sadara has become now. She gazed at him, aware that no matter what she does, he had gone too far to be brought back even to the fringes of normalcy. Sadara was gone, and whatever it was that took his place was not the dragon Salaldir remembered. He saw that in her eyes clear enough. "What happened to you."

He did not reply. She did not expect an answer. They had simply stood there, at the outskirts of the clan territory, at the edge of one of the many cliffs in the Reedcleft Ascent. The wind howled, whipping around them, forcibly ruffling Sadara's well-kept crest.

Sadara did not react when Salaldir wrapped her tail around his. It was a glimpse back into their past, when they were hatchlings. Sadara with the cocksure attitude that can only be born from a lack of experience, and Salaldir, more ferocious and vicious as a child than she could ever be now.

As hatchlings, they often escaped to this same spot, overlooking everything. They had vowed to stay together the rest of their lives. Then Salaldir lost her murderous aura, and Sadara began to seek blood more for the sake of blood than for a honor-bound fight. They both had changed, though everyone would agree that Salaldir had changed for the better, while Sadara had become someone unrecognizable.

Sadara missed those old days, if only because it was the only time Salaldir wounded him bad enough that he could not move for a whole moon cycle. Even when she was just a fightless dragon now, there was something about stealing a moment away from everything that calmed Sadara.

Though he kept his eyes trained on the horizon, at the sun as it began to dip down, he felt Salaldir siddle up to his side, as close as they used to be when they were young. The Mirror's crest fanned lightly, brushing up Sadara's side. He had to fight the urge to smile.

It's a shame that Salaldir had changed. They could have fought as one. The collection of whistling reeds strung together in preparation for the annual clan mating dance still lay hidden in Sadara's swathe of the territory. Unused. He remembered how Salaldir had gushed about the sounds of the reeds as the wind blew by, adamantly declaring that any dragon foolish enough to want to be her mate had to seduce her with a necklace of reeds that sung as sweetly as the natural reeds found near the cliff.

Sadara had carved those reeds out for months, testing each one individually, then as a group, swapping and changing the order to find something with a beautiful harmony. He had been so confident then.

It's a shame that Salaldir changed.

"They were nesting," she said to the rapidly dwindling sun. The setting hue painted the reeds before them a daunting red. If Sadara squinted, he could see the reeds which were sharper than the others, a natural defense for invaders, and those too weak to withstand the wind. "Ybium and his mate had a clutch of eggs. The first of their family."

"Ah," said Sadara, unsure of how else to respond. It's a shame that Salaldir changed. If she didn't, they wouldn't have to be here, worrying about the eggs of two dragons that weren't even alive anymore. Two dragons that were very dull to fight. They didn't even scratch Sadara deep enough to scar.

Heedless of the atmosphere, or perhaps because of it, Salaldir continued. "Four eggs, all destroyed. A rival. No one knew who it was, but no one could contest it. Both parents were dead, the nest was free."

"Hm."

Salaldir's tail tightened around Sadara's, almost painfully, but not quite there yet. "How do you feel about this?" And she turned, forcing Sadara to turn as well. She would shove him off the cliff if she had to, just to see his eyes when he answered. Sadara was a natural liar, all the better to goad enemies into a fight. But Salaldir, dearest Salaldir, with her red eyes and sharp fangs, always could tell if he wasn't telling the truth. It was something unique to her, something intoxicating. Something that let Sadara kept a sliver of respect for her despite her becoming so weak.

"You're asking me how I feel about the death of Ybium and his mate?"

"And the destruction of their eggs," Salaldir added with a resolute nod. Her eyes, red like blood, pierced into Sadara's very soul. Cold, merciless, and vicious. Exactly how Sadara wanted to remember her. He could almost pretend that she hadn't changed. Hadn't gone soft.

After a brief pause, Sadara said, "It's a shame." Something changed in Salaldir's eyes. Daggers she had been glaring into him were sheathed, the ice melted, and Sadara's fantasy of Salaldir returning to the dragon she was, the beast of a fighter that gave Sadara the scars on the soft flesh of his belly, evaporated.

Salaldir loosened her tail just as Sadara said, "They died and didn't even put up a fight." Salaldir paused, eyes wide, mouth open, crest pinned completely back. Surprise was written so blatantly all over her face, Sadara wanted to laugh. She needed to control her expressions. Learn to lie, to not be so honest all the time.

"What?" she growled, perplexed. "I must have misheard you. Repeat yourself."

There was a sadistic satisfaction in grinning wider, purposefully showing Salaldir his bloody teeth from the earlier fight, watching her eyes dart to his fangs then back to his eyes and back down over and over again. Even now, she still had faith that Sadara could be redeemed, that he wasn't the monster he's proven himself to be. Touching, in a pathetic sort of way.

"I said," Sadara drew himself up to full height, crest of feathers puffing, watching Salaldir ready herself in a battle stance, "that it was a shame that they both died so easily."

Salaldir hissed, crest taking on a more aggressive position, tail hastily releasing Sadara's to whip behind her, snapping a reed in half. What a shame. If she had continued to fight, Salaldir might have been a worthy opponent, a fun fight. Instead, she was reduced to this, growling and hissing in a vain attempt to intimidate Sadara.

Shame.

"They tried so hard. Even Ybium." Sadara shook his head, eyes glinting joyously as Salaldir backed away, hackles raised. Where was her faith now? If he could not fight her, the least she could give him was the satisfaction of seeing her realise that the dragon she once knew wasn't there anymore.

It's a vindictive satisfaction. Beneath the fear in Salaldir's red eyes, he could see the myriad of emotions. Sadness. Regret. Guilt. The most heady, was loss. She lost more than her friend today. They both knew it.

Sadara wouldn't kill her. Even someone as strong as himself was still plagued by the uncomfortable burden of familiarity, of hesitance. Of seeing someone he would have given his life for all those years ago, steadily back away from him.

Good. The worse he made himself out to be, the easier Salaldir could forget. She was stubborn, obstinate even, and would adamantly insist that Sadara could be saved from himself, even if everyone else could see that he was too far gone. Sadara himself, knew that he was too far gone. What Salaldir wanted for him was normalcy. To find a mate, brood over a clutch, and live life as part of the clan. Happily. Without conflict.

In an eternity of perpetual boredom.

It's a good thing Sadara was a natural liar. Watching his oldest friend slowly back off, as though he could ever attack her, stung. But maybe she was right. Maybe he would snap, not today, but someday. Give in to his bloodlust, lunge for her throat. It won't be the first time he's lashed out at a clanmate.

He's practised different faces so many times that it was easy forcing a predatory glint into his eyes, to make his smile bare just a little more teeth. He forced himself to stare at Salaldir's eyes. It hurt to see her look as though he was a stranger, but she deserved to witness the fact that her friend, the Sadara she knew, was dead.

Salaldir took a step closer. Sadara took two steps back.

"You were my best friend," Salaldir confessed, baring her teeth indignantly even as her wings pulled tight to shield her from Sadara's threatening aura. "I would have died for you."

"I know," Sadara replied. You're my best friend too, he thought, the words remaining stuck in his throat. Unsaid. I hated it when you changed. When you sided with the clan. When you just can't accept the fact that I'm not like one of you. Will never be one of you.

He took a step closer, mind running a mile a minute. He never could say what he wanted to say in front of her. She did not know that even now, he did not want to hurt her. She didn't know about the reeds in Sadara's cave that sung sweeter than sugar when hung before the breeze. She didn't know, because Sadara, for all his fighting prowess, turned into a coward when talking to her.

"I want you back to normal." Salaldir looked so sad. It took all of Sadara's willpower not to frown. I want things back to normal too. He can't say that. I remember when you didn't look at me like that.

Salaldir took a step back. The delicate edge of the cliff crumbled, the rocks fell into the rivers below. All of Sadara's forced bravado faded, his expression quickly turning into panic and desperation as he dove for Salaldir just as she fell, claws uselessly trying to find purchase on the edges, where the rocks crumbled away.

She fell onto a reed, the sharpened edges piercing through her wings right where it met her body. She shrieked in pain and her body convulsed automatically, trying to get herself off.

She fell, but not far. Sadara could still reach her. Thankfully, the reed that had pierced her wing stood on a tall rock, jutting out defiantly from the sea. Sadara could almost reach her. If Salaldir would stretch a limb out, arm, leg, tail, even her uninjured wing that violently beat against the rock responsible for keeping her alive. Anything.

Sadara felt like a child again, and suddenly, he was back at the nest, Salaldir pinning him down in one of their play fights for the hundredth time in a row. He'd know. He counted. "You're so weak, Sada!" she growled, sitting on his back to keep him from rising. "You're so weak."

He'd laughed then. "Good thing you're here to protect me, right, Salal?"

She smacked him lightly with her wing. "I'm not protecting you, and I'm not letting you protect me." She got up then, dragging Sadara back to his feet. "We're protecting each other. If you fall, I'll pick you back up. But you have to promise to do the same to me!"

Why did he remember that now? They hadn't sparred since they were children. Salaldir had steadily grown further away from him. This was the first time in a long time they've been in each other's presences for longer than a few minutes.

Sadara strained, claws digging into the rock to keep his perch as he tried to reach for Salaldir, desperately. "You hand," he groaned, watching as he just shy out of reach. "Salal please! Give me your hand."

Salaldir stared at him, blankly. Then, her face twisted, expression mimicking the mocking smirk Sadara had undoubtedly worn just moments before. A parody of his lies, though he was certain Salaldir meant her smile. This is what he looked like when he pretended that he was fine with losing Salaldir as a friend. It did not suit Salaldir.

What a horrible expression.

"Ybium felt like this." Sadara stared as Salaldir's wings beat violently against the rock. Sadara watched it splinter, and watched it as it slowly slid into the sea below.

"Is it worth it?"

He was not a good flier. Even so, he dove down the cliff, into the rapids, hoping, begging, that she would survive.

She stared at him when she fell. Vindictive glee in her eyes. A perfect image of the facade Sadara had worn before. He didn't mean for this to happen.

The currents took them far.

Sadara resurfaced, barely breathing, wings beating feverishly against the waves, pulling himself and Salaldir, wrapped gently in his front limbs, to a sandy beach that bordered the Plateaus and the Sea of a Thousand Currents.

Salaldir wasn't breathing.

He was never great at magic and exhaustion clawed at him, fervently tempting him to sleep and never awaken. Still, he forced himself to expel as much magic as he could. Wind surged at his command, flooding into Salaldir's lungs, forcing the water out.

Not enough. She still wasn't breathing.

Not enough not enough.

Even as Sadara lay awake until dawn, willing air into Salaldir's lung's, she never took another breath. She never opened her eyes.

That was probably the first, and last time he'd care about anything other than a good fight.

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"Are you stronger than me?"

"Yes."

"Are you faster than me?"

"Yes."

"Are you smarter than me?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you can kill me?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to?"

Sadara watched. Waited. It wasn't the first time they had fought like this, vicious and bloody and with the intent to kill. Still, the two of them always stopped before either one could die. It wasn't the first time Sadara lost, though it was certainly the first time he had deigned to elicit a conversation after a spar.

In front of him, jaws bloody from tearing through Sadara's wings like paper, ?? paused, uncharacteristically hesitant.

[xxxxxx]

"Why would you ask that?"

"I asked my question first so you have to answer."

"Well, I won, so I say that I don't have to do jack."

Sadara couldn't help but laugh, clear and song-like. Although ?? insisted on wearing his mask, Sadara could have sworn that he was laughing too. He just wasn't making any sound. Or moving.

He finally understood why ?? was called The Ghost.