Silver Ore Minerals & Ores Particularly useful should you ever meet a werewolf. 60 Silver Muck Transmutation A bubbling mass of silver muck with a brilliant metallic surface. It is pockmarked with tiny gaseous boils. 0

Good heavens. Now this place was a mess—a bloody, gore-filled mess. I looked down into the huge pit through the chain ceiling -to prevent the gladiators from carrying their battle out over the crowds- watching as a banescale pinned a guardian. Then ripped out her throat. A chime sounded to signify the end of the fight. Just lovely. Exactly how I wanted to spend my Friday evening. But the female tundra -after shoving a peculiar ring on my finger- told me to come here, to this hidden, illegal fighting pit, if I wanted to find my destiny. I knew it was all smoke and mirrors, but she caught my curiosity. There was no harm in exploring this place either—even if it was filled with the thick rotting stench of the dead dragons. There was no escape from the dense scent of metal from the blood, it clogged my nostrils and it felt as if it clung to my skin like oil. It felt like death was grasping at me with oddly warm and sweaty hands, trying to tempt me into the false gentleness of its fatal arms. I wandered through the cheering crowd, shooting a charming smile towards any dragon that I caught the attention of. Though I stayed clear of the betting stands, it wasn’t hard to see the large chalkboards being erased and rewritten with dozens of -frankly outrageous, in my opinion- numbers, and to hear dragons calling out numbers left and right. A waste of money, I knew that some battles were predetermined only so the wealthy few could get wealthier off this illegal career. I weaved through the crowd to the edge of the pit again, peering down at the dragon. The banescale was still there, and they just brought out another dragon. A pearlcatcher this time, clutching a dagger close to his chest as if that would keep him alive. The banescale, with an outer skeleton that looked like ice, surveyed the other pearlcatcher with a small smirk. A chime went off, so soft I almost didn’t catch it from over the crowd, and the two dragons disappeared in a blur of scales and wings and claws. I frowned. I would much rather, if doing anything illegal, go clubbing in the land of shadows instead of watching two dragons fight to the death, but it could be worse. I could be that poor pearlcatcher in the pit. I turned away from the pit once again -just as the banescale was cornering the pearlcatcher- and wandering deeper into the underground building, where the lights got darker and dragons could more often be seen with a cup in their hands. I moved farther and farther away from the pit, not really knowing where I was going but also not really caring. My feet took me where they took me, and today they seemed to be taking me to a friendly-looking bartender. “Just a water, please,” I said, voice as smooth as honey, as I leaned up against the counter. “Coming right up,” The male mirror replied with a grin, filling me up a glass and placing it in front of me. He leaned on the counter across from me as he asked softly, “I don’t see you around here often. What brings a dragon of such beauty to our… entertainment?” I looked back towards the pit, smirking a little at the compliment as a I responded, “A curious looking tundra pointed me this way. I have nothing else important that I must do, so I figured I’d come check it out.” I sipped from my glass, smiling pleasantly at the mirror. “Ah. You see, it’s not often that we get, uh,” The mirror cleared his throat, “‘non-fodder’ dragons here.” All it took was a quick glance to notice how everyone had mismatching colors or less-than-savory genetics. Even the bartender wasn’t all that handsome. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” The mirror slowly moved his hand closer—subtle, but I could easily catch the movement—and leaned in. I did the same, after all, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun tonight. Maybe this was all that ‘destiny’ talk was about. I moved my hand even closer, brushing my claws over his. “You as well, Mr…?” I trailed off, my lips curling upwards, as the mirror’s hand crept up my wrist over the curve of my shoulder. We both knew what this was, or at least I knew. This wasn’t love at first sight -it didn’t exist, I could tell you that- but it was a better form of entertainment than what was going on in the pits. “My name doesn’t matter to you,” The mirror replied as his grin grew into something a little more… devilish. I paused, but failed to notice the small syringe until it had been jabbed into my wrist. I opened my mouth, but my lips felt heavy, and soon that feeling spread throughout my body. The room swirled, and I tried to get words out, to shout for help, but before I knew it my head was on the counter. The cheers of the crowd and murmurings of other dragons felt distant and my hands lost the ability to feel. The last thing I saw was the bartender’s greedy grin before the world went dark. ... I woke up cold. My head throbbed as I wearily cracked my eyes opened. Everything felt wrong. That man… A shudder went through my body. I was about to be sick. The air felt shallow I immediately wished I was in a different body, a different time, a different life. My joints ached, and it took me a moment before I was able to stand. I was surprised to find none of my outfit stolen or damaged, but… I was in a cage. A dark cage, the outside of it covered in tarp as if the prevent me from seeing out. I took a step forward, but my legs failed me and I stumbled against the wall—pain spiking in the arch of my back foot that caused me to look down. Blood leaked out of me, onto a sharp blade that I had apparently stepped on. I winced, but kept my breathing calm, as I bent down and picked up the blade. I nearly fell when I heard a click, then the groan of machinery. Slowly the tarp was pulled up, the sudden light temporarily blinding me, then with it the cage. I limped out and was met with the roar of a crowd. Oh no. This was bad. Very, very bad, judging from how I could hear numbers being thrown out—bets. I never should have followed the mysterious tundra’s guidance; my ‘destiny’ would be the death of me. I heard a snarl, and my focus pinpointed on the banescale before me. Oh no, oh no, oh no. “This is a mistake,” I started, keeping control of my breath as I dropped the knife off to the side, “I am no gladiator.” The banescale laughed, the noise dull yet sharp at the same time. A laugh that held no humor, no sympathy, only the cold. “Clearly, Mr. Model,” He replied, a combination of a snarl and a smirk on his face. “I don’t know how much money you were hoping to win, but you can’t claim any of that when you’re like them,” The banescale jerked his bloodied chin towards one of the dragon corpses not too far away. I opened my mouth to respond, but a small chime sounded, and I knew I was done for. The banescale lunged forward, maw agape with fangs gleaming, and I did the only thing I could do—I fled. My wings sprung out and I leapt into the air. “Let’s just talk about this! I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours,” I called, trying to squish my rising panic as the banescale chased me into the air. I rose up, up, up, a small flicker of hope in my chest because I could fly faster than the beaten up and tired banescale, but the hope was destroyed as I slammed into chains. The chain ceiling. I moved, trying to fly, but was abruptly stopped by an unseen force. Somehow, a string of chains had managed to slip around my neck. I hadn’t imagined I’d die this way. The crowd roared, and the deafening noise only grew when the banescale slammed into the chains next to me. “Please,” I finally said as the warrior stalked closer, “Please, I-” A flash of icy fangs flew towards me. I just barely caught the burdened look in the gladiator’s shadowy eyes, but it was there. It was the last look I’d ever I see, I realized, as those fangs came down on my neck. I threw out my feet in defense, but I only met the gladiator’s leathery stomach as the male pinned me against the chain ceiling. Cold, oh so cold, teeth pressed against my silver scales, and I was sure I’d be dead in a heartbeat. But those fangs stayed there, just barely drawing blood, on my throat. It was as if each and every dragon in the crowd held their breath, waiting for this dragon to shred the delicate column of silver scales that was my neck. Even now, even with my death only a couple heartbeats away, I managed to put on my signature smirk, pretending as if this was all okay. “C’mon. At least buy me a drink first,” I said softly, so quiet that only the banescale would hear. The dragon didn’t move. I waited for when he’d suddenly chomp down with those glimmering, cold teeth, but he never did. A dragon shouted out from the crowd, taunting the banescale to snap my neck, but he never did. The gladiator moved, and I was sure I’d be taking my last breath, but he never did. Instead, he pulled his jaw back—but still kept me pinned to the chain ceiling. “Where did you get that ring?” He asked quietly, his voice hoarse and broken. He didn’t sound like a dragon at all, merely a cog in the machine. I swallowed. “Someone gave it to me,” I muttered back, my racing heart beginning to calm down as I focused on my breathing. “Why does it matter to you?” I added quietly, pressing my feet against the male’s stomach a little harder, but he seemed unaffected. The banescale was silent for a couple moments, and I could tell the crowd was getting restless. A couple more shouts were being thrown out, some dragons snarling to finish the fight. “I’m going to get you out of this place, but if you cross me, you’re dead,” The banescale whispered quietly instead of answering my question, his cold breath tickling my ear. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” I muttered back, forcing my lips to curl upwards, “The crowd wants death, they won’t just let either of us waltz out of here.” The banescale grabbed my ear between his teeth, piercing through the skin as he growled lowly, “You’re arguing against you’re only chance at living.” I had to hold in my whimper as the male didn’t let go of my ear. My lips curled upwards a bit more. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. Only that it’s a bad idea,” I countered softly, curling my claws against his abdomen. “And how would you propose getting me out?” And why would you want to help me get out? The male finally let go of my ear. “I want you to slash my gut open, right now.” I tensed, my feet freezing over his abdomen. He chuckled lowly, the first noise that came out of him that didn’t sound empty. “And then yank your head out. I’ll help you. You just need to attack me, make it look like you won.” I forced out a soft laugh and drawled, “I couldn’t attack someone as handsome as you.” I can’t attack anybody. The banescale let out a low growl, pressing himself closer. “Do it. Use your claws, pretty boy.” I looked down at me feet against his abdomen. At my claws, at their potential fatality. I think my heart stopped beating for a moment when I sliced into him. Everything after that happened so fast that I almost missed it. The crowd changed from angry to excited as the banescale let out a animalistic roar of pain and yanked me downwards with too-sharp claws—pulling me out from the chain ceiling and freeing my head. I jumped away from him and he fell, shooting me an almost imperceptible look as if to reinforce what he said earlier. You just need to attack me. I lunged down after him, about to claw hit but changing my hand into a fist right before it connected with his face. It was like a dance. He would maneuver us around, switching it up and twisting us so neither one of us was clearly winning this manufactured fight. He would cry out shouts of pain every once and a while, and he’d dig his claws into my flesh just enough to draw blood, but not enough to kill. At times I thought he really would kill me, but it occurred to me that I’d already be dead if that was the case. He seemed to know this lethal dance well, where to cut but not hurt, how to dominate for one second before losing in the next. It pleased the crowd, obvious by the cheers and shouts from above. However, it all went back when the male grabbed my arms and twisted us so fast that his head slammed into the dry earth beneath us with an all-too-loud boom. I paused for a second, waiting for him to guide our next move, but he didn’t. His eyes were closed. “I…” I trailed off, staring down at his somber face. I looked up, at the faces in the crowd, the voices even more deafening than before. For a couple moments, I just stood there, staring upwards, but then chime sounded—the end of the fight. “But…” I mumbled, looking down at the male with slightly fearful eyes. He was the guy with the plan. But my potential fears were extinguished when I felt his claws tighten ever so slightly on my wrists. “Leave this place, wait by the pine tree arch,” He whispered, so subtle that even I almost didn’t see it when his lips moved, I didn’t have much time to respond, a stone door opened at one end of the arena. After a moment of hesitation, I slowly got up off of the banescale and backed up a step. There was so much blood pooling around the male, for a second I was going to stay, but I quickly shoved those thoughts away. I turned and put on my best, most charming smile, then waltzed out of the pit to a huge set of stairs. I walked up them and found that they led to a set of doors, which I opened to reveal I ended up where I first entered. I kept my breathing under control and didn’t pay any attention to how much blood was dripping off me as I walked to the exit. Only one more thing caught my eye and made me pause. The bartender, probably with his coin sack a little heavier, was watching me leave. I gave him the finger and walked out, hiding my exhaustion and pain for now. How many others had died because they had been forced into that pit? Was that how the banescale had ended up there? I didn’t dwell on those thoughts, however, when the fresh pine scent hit my nostrils and I increased my pace out of the cave. I let my shoulders sag a little as sunlight hit my skin and stopped trying to hide my limp. I glanced back at the cave that led into the fight pit beneath the mountain and debated if I should just go. Dirt caked my cut and wounds, and I could feel blood dripping down the side of my face from when that banescale had torn into my ear. It would be easily just to go home, to treat these cuts before they got infected instead of waiting for a vicious killer. But something still nagged at me. Where did you get that ring? I looked down at my hand, at the white ring that had swirls and markings carved into it. It meant something to that banescale, and curiosity kept me from flying off. I looked around and began to wander, searching for the ‘pine tree arch’ that the male had referenced earlier. I was deeper in the woods by the time I finally saw the huge trees. At one point I thought of turning back, that I had accidentally wandered past it, but there was no mistaking that I was at the right place when I saw three large pines, broken and bent, holding each other up precariously to make an arch. I slowly limped over and tucked myself against the base of one of the broken pines, an involuntary groan coming out of my throat. Every cut and scratch stung and throbbed. I didn’t know how long I waited there. Seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours. At one point, my eyes closed and exhaustion swept over me. Sleep welcomed me into its soft, pillowy arms and I drifted away to the sounds of birds chirping. ... I jolted awake at the sound of a harsh word. My eyes darted upwards to find a familiar face standing above me. “Shadowbinder… I though you were dead,” The banescale muttered as he crouched down beside me. He wreaked of blood and was covered in filth like myself, though it looked like he’d gotten loose bandages for the large cut on his stomach. I lifted my head, consequently bringing us so close that our snouts almost touched—the banescale seemed mortified, but my lips curled upwards a little and I ignored our closeness. “I have been waiting for you for,” I glanced up at the sky and judged the position of the sun, “-hours.” “Get off me,” The banescale grunted, shoving me away. I pouted at him, which earned a frown. “Stay put, you’ll get infected.” “I wasn’t moving-“ Pain shot over my skin along my chest, a weakened whimper escaping my lips as I shriveled. The banescale’s hands were moving along all the cuts and slashes I had taken, a bottle of disinfectant in one hand. Disinfectant that hurt. The banescale muttered something indistinguishable, and all I could manage was a pained little noise. Gosh that hurt. It felt like someone had took a grater against my scales and rubbed them raw. “Please… stop…” I managed to get out, voice wavering as my hands quivered. “It’s… it’s gonna be alright, okay? I know it hurts now, but it would be worse if you got infected,” The banescale murmured, but his hands slowed as they cleaned out each and every cut. “You’re not used to getting hurt like this, are you?” I managed a stiff shake of my head, and the banescale sighed. “Why did you volunteer for that d*mn arena in the first place?” Volunteer? I shook my head again, squirming and trying to pull away a little but the banescale held firm- at some point one of the male’s hands had settled on my shoulder while the other still worked away on the cuts with the disinfectant. “I didn’t volunteer for anything…” I started, closing my eyes for a moment as I tried to regain my composure despite the pain ricochetting across my skin, “The bartender… he just couldn’t resist drugging me.” I managed a small faux smile that quickly turned into a grimace. The banescale’s hand stopped. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning. The birds chirped, the breeze rustled through the pines, everything just felt peaceful. It felt like a luxury escape, a vacation to last forever, somewhere to let the memories disappear and to never think again. The feeling of the banescale’s hands retracting pulled me out of that false reality. “I got most of the cuts and scrapes. There’s some on your neck and face, can I touch you?” The banescale asked quietly, to which I raised an eyebrow. The male’s demeanor changed- once, very direct and confident, now, cautious and gentle. “I think it’s a little late for that question, you already caused some damage with all that disinfectant on my other cuts,” I joked, scrunching my nose at him, anything to pull the situation out of the strange tones the banescale was setting. The other wasn’t having it. He was already holding out the bottle of disinfectant for me. “Here. Just a bit will do the trick, but make sure to get the dirt out of the slashes, you have a lot of dust all over your head and-“ “It’s okay, you do it. Please. For me?” I interjected, adding a cute look for the male too. He stared at me for a moment, sharp eyes sweeping over my face thrice before he gently -even more gentle than before- touched my neck with the disinfectant on his hands. I let out a hiss of pain, but held still as the male carefully worked away on the cuts.

---

From Japanese 新 (arata) meaning "fresh, new".


Palindrome Birth date!
02-02-2020
0202-20-20

It's the only day this century that will read the same forward and backward AROUND THE WORLD. It's also Super Bowl Sunday AND Groundhog Day. And to top it all off, it's the 33rd day in the year and is followed by 333 more days.





Spoiler Alert: View into the future


I approached with a lazy grin on my face, not hesitating to make myself comfortable across the table from the handsome banescale that sat before me. He watched me like a predator with prey, though a small smirk of his own laid on his lips. “Enchante,” The banescale murmured before pushing a plate of roasting hardshell moonstings towards me. “I hope you enjoy. Caught them fresh this afternoon.” I raised my eyebrows.

“Well look at that, my lucky hunter I see. You pamper me too much,” I purred, and it was true. Balafire only treated me with the best, and it warmed my heart. I could never find someone better than the male sitting before me.

The handsome banescale moved, holding up a bottle of aged drink and unscrewing the cork with a sharpened talon. “And of course, only the best drink for the best dragon,” Balafire told me with a steady smile, “This was really popular back where I ‘worked’, so I imagine it’s good, so many patrons ordered it as they…”

Balafire’s words faded out of my mind as the banescale continued talking. All I could focus on was one thing. The stench. I was back there in an alcohol filled, gore stained arena, sitting at the bar. The bartender was there, with greedy hands and evil intent.

One moment I was sitting across from Balafire at the table, the next, I was hurtling away, my tail sending the table and meals flying as a spin and ran for the bathroom. Vomit hurled up out of my throat and to the floor before I flung myself into the corner of the bathtub—surely bruising myself as I slammed into the wall. My wings tucked into close to my body and my eyes couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing. Safe. I needed to be somewhere safe. The only problem was, there was no where to go that was safe. A figure came to stand over me, claws reaching out-

“Arata, Arata, shhh… shhhh…” A soft murmur. I covered my face with my arms, trying to collapse down on myself as if I folded myself over so many times I would just disappear. “Arata, it’s just me, it’s just me, it’s just Balafire, okay? Shhhh…” My heart raced, I felt like I would throw up again. I wasn’t safe. This wasn’t okay. “Arata, it’s okay. I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

And then there was a hand, gentle and warm, on my elbow. Balafire. Safe. I broke down, reaching out my hand to tug at Balafire. The other did not hesitate to crawl into the tub with me and wrap me in his arms and wings. I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed as I pressed my face into the other male’s chest. I tried to explain why I just snapped like that, but after a few failed attempts at sentences that dissolved into stuttering, I stayed quiet. Only when the sobs turned to light sniffles did I muster up words again. “The drink… it smelled like- like the bar at the arena. I- I just felt like I was back there, with the bar tender, and the needle, and- and-“ I bit my lips hard enough to draw specks of blood and pressed my face into Balafire’s shoulder even more. “Th-there something I- I didn’t tell you about that night, I- he-“ My voice wavered, and Balafire held me tighter.

“It’s okay, I know, shhhh, I know,” Balafire whispered, stroking my head with his gentle claws. “It’s okay. I know,” He repeated, pressing his own snout against my cheek. More tears slipped out of the corners of my closed eyes. He knew. He knew.

“W-When?” I asked, lips wobbling as I clung to Balafire.

“As soon as you told me he drugged you,” The male mumbled gently, rubbing small circles into my back with his thumb. “That b*stard has a reputation for giving out bad drinks to those who catch his eye, and… gosh you were so bruised up when you entered the arena.” I felt Balafire’s arms and wings tighten around me as the other male took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry I couldn't have protected you."

I pressed closer into Balafire, taking in his smell and warmth. Safe. Safe safe safe. My mind knew it, but my instincts still had trouble believing it. "I'm sorry I ruined..." Their meal. Tonight. Everything.

"You didn't ruin anything," Balafire immediately whispered gently, tucking me in closer. "Let's just stay here for a while, is that okay with you?" How was it that Balafire just knew what I needed from him? It was okay. It was more than okay. I could only muster a weak nod as I slowly -oh so slowly- relaxed into the safety of his arms.