Renegade

He was a stranger to this clan, and therefore he couldn’t understand why they were so readily willing to help him. They should just leave him alone, let him be to take care of himself, like the others he met along the way to this place did.

It didn’t matter if he was injured, it didn’t matter if the gaping wounds on his leg and back were infected, he didn’t need their help. He made that clear.

So why, then, were they so persistent in following him around and trying to help him? He swore these strange dragons chased him around with herbs and other assortments of medical supplies. He didn’t need them, which he had also made very clear. So why? Why didn’t they stop?

The Banescale had also persisted in denying their help. He didn’t need anyone, not anymore. He persisted on turning a blind eye and limping away, or hissing and yelling and snapping his jaws at those who had tried to help, shrieking that he didn’t need their help and that he could care for himself. He persisted limping through the clan’s residence and ignoring their looks, whether they be of confusion, disgust, or pity.

Though, despite all of this, the clan he had ended up in showed no ill-will towards the Banescale, and he ended up taking his rest just on the outskirts of the clan. He wasn’t against letting himself rest and heal.

He was only against getting help. He was against getting anywhere close to these dragons.

The last thing he wanted was an excuse to get attached to this clan.

The Banescale did this for a few days, resting around the edges of the clan but keeping his distance and incessantly refusing their help. The rest wasn’t helping him heal, however. His wounds just kept getting worse. The normally brown colored scales and skin around the gaping wounds were now turning ugly shades of red, purple, and even black in some places. They filled and oozed with pus and contagion. The Banescale ignored it though, even as the pain got worse, and stayed his distance from the clan.

He insisted to himself that he didn’t need anyone.

He insisted to himself that letting them help him would only draw him into another world of pain.

He didn’t know, however, that there was a dragon that was keeping an eye on him from the clan, and this dragon had already had enough of the Banescale’s antics.

As the Banescale laid by himself in the grass, trying to fight the pain and sleep, a gray and white Tundra was marching towards towards the Banescale, a grim and tired expression on his face.

“I can smell the infection in your wounds,” The Tundra said bluntly when he approached. “It’s getting worse.”

The Banescale’s head snapped up, and he narrowed his eyes at the Tundra. “I already told ALL of you that I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!” He snapped, partially yelling and partially snarling. “Now BUG OFF!”

The Tundra’s lips drew back, revealing the dangerous fangs Tundras were known for. His yellow eyes blazed with anger.

“YOU DO NEED OUR HELP! Your childish tough-guy act has only been making your wounds WORSE! You’re going to get gangrene and DIE if you don’t let someone take a look at you!” The Tundra yelled. “I’ve never seen such a THICK-HEADED dragon before! No one EVER denies help when their life DEPENDS on it! What, is it just pride or stupidity?!”

The Banescale was taken aback by the Tundra’s outburst, and watched as the Tundra was heaving in air after his mini-rant. The Banescale looked away in shame and squeezed his eyes shut. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and he winced as the wounds on his leg and back throbbed with pain. He knew he needed help, and that the Tundra was beyond right.

He had let his fear get in the way.

“Please, let me take you back to the clan. Let us help you,” The Tundra pleaded.

The Banescale let out a heavy sigh. “Fine…”

The Tundra’s serious expression softened, then lightened into a small smile.

“My name’s Anastasia, what’s your’s?” The Tundra asked, moving to help the Banescale up.

“Renegade…. My name is Renegade,” The Banescale said as he stood on shaky legs.

“We’ll get you fixed right up, Renegade,” Anastasia said with a smile.

Renegade said nothing more as Anastasia led him towards the clan, and tried to focus on banishing the sick feeling that settled like a rock into his stomach.

Renegade was held up for months, healing from his infection. In that time, he had met many of the dragons of Radiant Peak, and to his dismay, he was beginning to fall into place among these dragons. They treated him as if he always belonged there among the Radiant Peak.


When he was healed, Renegade was given a duty before he had the chance to make his leave. He became known as an Executioner, the one who “took care of” the dragons that entered the ruins near the clan. Renegade couldn’t help but wonder what was in those ruins that he had to silence dragons over, but then again it was none of his business. He also couldn’t help but wonder why they would trust him with such an important job, but he supposed he had been there long enough to garner that trust, having fallen into place in the clan.

But that didn’t stop Renegade from overthinking it. He couldn’t help but wonder why he was even here in the first place. Everything in his old life had gone terribly wrong, then he has ended up at Radiant Peak, wounded and getting ill, and then through his healing process, he’d been adopted by the clan and given a new role. Why? Why had life sent him this way?

He never asked for this!

Renegade never gave hint that this was bothering him though. He just silently went about his days as the new Executioner, silencing the odd bandit or two that managed to sneak their way into the ruins only to meet their doom once they emerged into the daylight. Renegade did his best to forget the horror on their faces when he sent their souls to whatever deity they followed. He never let anyone know that that bothered him either, no one had to know he disliked his job. After all, he was assigned to it for a reason. Perhaps it was the walls he’d put up while he was injured, the stoicism he used to hide his despair when he was healing. Perhaps the others felt he wouldn’t be so affected by death.

They were wrong. Mostly wrong, at least. But he wouldn’t let them know.

Though, sometimes the thoughts whirling in Renegade’s mind like a tempest would get to be too much. He’d have to take a break from his post at times, excusing himself for a moment or two alone to chase the thoughts and quell his anxiety. It was during one of these breaks, at the dawn of a new day, when he found himself in the rose garden.

The sky was the colors of a ripe grapefruit, pale orange with pink-tinted clouds floating lazily overhead. The sun peeked over the horizon, causing the morning dew to sparkle on the blood-red roses that surrounded him. The butterflies and bees were already buzzing about, visiting the roses. Renegade couldn’t help but stare at the sky, listening to the insects mill about, as his breath caught in his throat and he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting a visitor in my garden this morning, much less the new Executioner.” A voice rang out behind Renegade.


Renegade jumped at the voice, startled by it, and quickly turned around to see the dusky colored pearlcatcher behind him. He silently cursed himself for being startled so easily and watched the pearlcatcher, Ambrosia, if he remembered the name correctly, set down her gardening tools gently. At least she wasn’t laughing at the reaction and look of surprise that Renegade surely held.

Ambrosia sighed as she knelt down beside her roses and began pruning one of the rose bushes. Gently, she trimmed away dead leaves with a pair of shears, revealing new growth from beneath. With her free hand, she popped off rosehips and dead buds with her talons. Renegade silently watched the pearlcatcher work, her tender way of tending to her thorny flowers mesmerizing him and taking his mind off of the whirlwind of thoughts he was experiencing. At least, that was until Ambrosia spoke up.

“You know, when I have intruders in my rose garden, they’re usually annoying pests or have something bothering them,” Ambrosia said, breaking the silence. “I’d say it’s the latter for you, so what’s on your mind?”

Renegade paled for a moment, his jaw going slack. Was he that easy to read, despite the wall he’d put up, or was Ambrosia a psychic? He floundered for a moment before finally putting words to his inner thoughts, deciding it may be easier to speak to this dragon than just keep all of his feelings bottled up inside.

“I guess… I guess I just don’t know what I’m doing here,” Renegade said, giving a sigh. “Like, here I am, just a misplaced dragon in a new clan with a job I’m not sure I want, after having been through Hell and back.”

Ambrosia stopped caring for her roses and stared at Renegade, as if wanting him to go on. This flustered the Banescale, and he turned away, moving his focus onto a butterfly that was fluttering around the roses next to him.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing, I don’t know why life thrust me into this!” Renegade said, getting more agitated. Though, it was with himself more than anything. “Why did I, out of all dragons, get put through all this?! Is there a reason??”

Renegade heard the pearlcatcher sigh. He looked back over towards Ambrosia, who had stopped working on her roses, and putting her full attention on Renegade.

“What the reason for all this happening is, or was, doesn’t matter,” Ambrosia said with a tone that had finality in it, like she was done hearing Renegade’s moping even though it had only been a few minutes. “The world decided you needed to be here, with us, whether it was to save your life or if it was something yet to come. Though, even if it was the latter, your fate is for you to decide. You’re allowed to do whatever you want, you have the power and rights to do so. It’s what you do with your freedom in the life you’ve been given, that’s what counts. After all,” At the pause, in a movement so swift and almost practiced, Ambrosia sent her garden shears whizzing past Renegade’s head into some woody growth next to him. “No one ever suspects that the helpful little rose gardner was once an assassin.”

Renegade stood shocked for a moment, before turning to see where Ambrosia had sent her shears. Next to him, pinned to some vines by the shears was a freshly killed snake, that, unbeknownst to Renegade, was getting ready to strike at the butterfly he was just watching. He quickly looked back to Ambrosia, who had gone back to caring for her roses with a small smile on her maw, as if nothing had happened.

Renegade was sure he would never forget her words that day.

She was so bright compared to him, Renegade couldn’t help but gaze in awe at the new Banescale that had moved into the clan. Her minty green and blue scales and red wings gave her the appearance of candy, and her amber eyes caught the light in a mesmerizing way.

Having been one of a kind for his first few months at Radiant Peak, having a new Banescale show up was astonishing enough, but the way she looked only shocked him more.

So, it only seemed right to avoid her.

It wasn’t like Renegade actually wanted to, but he was afraid of getting close to such a dragon. It didn’t seem right. He probably wasn’t good enough for her anyways. He was just a broken dragon that killed intruders, after all. Though, it wasn’t like he’d let her know that. Heck, she probably wouldn’t figure out much about him since he was avoiding her anyway.

But while Renegade seemed to be dead set on avoiding her, she seemed to be dead set on meeting him. Everywhere he went, this other Banescale just happened to appear. It was as if she was trying to become his shadow. It eventually got to be too much for Renegade to keep avoiding her, so he finally just gave up and let her approach him.

“Have you been avoiding me?” She asked when she approached, though her voice was level and not accusatory like Renegade was expecting.

Renegade wasn’t sure how to answer that and forced himself to look away from the other Banescale.

“Why? We’ve never even spoken before. Are you shy?” the other Banescale asked.
Renegade let out a small laugh. Shy. He wished that was the truth. “I guess….” He responded.

The other Banescale gave a small smile. “Well, let me introduce myself. My name is Prodigy,” She said.

Renegade gazed back over at the other Banescale, Prodigy, and sighed. “My name is Renegade.”

“Renegade,” Prodigy repeated. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

Renegade said nothing but gave a slight nod, and watched for a moment as Prodigy smiled and turned to begin walking away before he followed. He had expected her to be mad at him for avoiding her, but instead she was much more level headed about it. She was kind, nice, and understanding. Renegade felt himself being drawn to her in some way, and felt warmth prickle along his cheeks as he listened to her talk as they walked along Radiant Peak. He wasn’t really hearing the words, but he was hearing her voice. She spoke in a sweet tone, and the smile on her face as she spoke complimented her voice nicely.

“Well, what about you? Where did you come from?” She asked.

Renegade paled for a moment, reality crashing back down around him. She must’ve been talking about her past and he missed it, now she was asking him about his own. He clenched his maw for a moment and looked away.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” He said in a somewhat grim voice, and his tail reached up to scratch a phantom itch across his hips and leg on reflex.

Prodigy took note of the movement, and her expression faltered for a moment before she smiled again. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t know it was so personal for you,” She apologized. “Forget I asked.”

Renegade let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and felt a smile creep up on his own maw. Her happiness was almost contagious.

“It’s nothing important anymore anyways,” He lied, holding his own smile as if it was the only thing keeping the day from shattering.

“Well, then why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” Prodigy asked.

Renegade now faltered, looking for something to say.

“Well, I’m an executioner,” He blurted, then mentally smacked himself for being so smooth (not).

Prodigy’s face turned to one of confusion, then of fascination. “An executioner?”

”Okay, so far so good… I guess,” Renegade thought to himself when he gauged her reaction. “Yeah. See, we have these ruins, and it’s against our laws to go inside those ruins. I have to take care of anyone who manages to get inside, because the punishment for breaking the law is death.”

“Oh wow… Do you know why the punishment is death?” Prodigy asked, voice full of curiosity.

Renegade shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. I always guessed that there was something in there that we’re not supposed to see.”

“Have you ever been in the ruins?” Prodigy asked.

“Heavens no!” He said. “Why would I go in there if it’s so egregious to trespass? They’d just have someone kill me, if not make me kill myself.”

“Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” Prodigy said, getting ready to walk to the ruins.

Renegade could feel his anxiety begin to surface, but instead he furrowed his brows and stepped in front of her, cutting Prodigy off before she could go any further.

“Prodigy, no.” He said firmly. “As tempting as it is, we have the death penalty looming over our heads. Besides, I’d much rather have you alive, here, with me. If you go, I’d have to kill you.”

Prodigy looked up at Renegade and sighed. “Fine, we won’t go then,” she said with a sigh. “Living is more important I suppose.”

Renegade watched her look away and his breath caught in his throat. He backed away from her and looked away himself.

“Come on,” Prodigy said after a moment. “Let’s go find something else to do.”

Renegade nodded, and followed her as she walked into the woods, looking for something interesting to do.

The next few weeks went by like this, the two of them adventuring together around Radiant Peak and the surrounding territory. Sometimes Prodigy would want to do something Renegade didn’t agree with, but he’d go along with it to make her happy. Sometimes Renegade wanted to play it safe, or find something that riled him up and Prodigy would grow frustrated with him, talking him down, sometimes down to him. In the end though, they always returned home as friends, and eventually, they would return home as mates.

Though, even as mates, there was some unease in Renegade. He’d sit and watch his mate, now with their young hatchlings, and wonder if everything was truly alright. He feared that this was just another thing waiting to fall apart in front of him.

Did Prodigy truly love him? Renegade couldn’t help but wonder if she loved him like he loved her. The way she spoke to him sometimes, or regarded him when he returned to their nest, seemed cold at times. Perhaps it was just his fear getting to him, but whatever the nagging feeling was, he didn’t like it.

Would she love him once she found out about his past, or his problems? If she did truly love him now, and was merely frustrated with how he acted, would it be the same if she found out about the past he kept under lock and key, or if she found out about his fear? Would it offend her or chase her away? Renegade couldn’t bear the thought.

So instead, he just vowed to keep Prodigy as happy as he could, and keep her content with the life they had.