Tangerine

Tangerine
Friend of the Shade


Tangerine sat in the wooded field just outside town, dawn’s light peering in through the soft yellow tree leaves. An open book sat out beside him, the old yellow pages rustled slightly in the wind. He set down the items he had brought with him, a raven’s feather, a bone of a dragon that still lives, and something he loved dearly. A pair of white eyes peered out from the darkness beyond the trees, the sky seemed darker, though he hadn’t even started his plan yet. He grabbed the book that was sitting near him and started.


He was a poet, emphasis on was. That’s why he came here, he’d never make it big back home, he’d never tap into what he wanted. He wanted knowledge, he wished to have his works known, he didn’t want his memory to die. What better way to do that then being immortal? He scoured books for any known way, he searched his hardest, but none came up. That was when he found an odd, thick, purplish black stained leather back book with metallic gold accents. There was no title, just scribbles in an unknown language. Staring at it too hard gave him a headache. He quickly grabbed it, nobody would miss it if it dissapeared, right? Plus it wasn’t even tagged, nor, now did he thought about it, was it there a minute ago.


“Hello there, I’ve come to strike a deal with you.” The orange and white skydancer said calmly, before him was nothingness, or everything, there was a defined shape, but if he stared hard enough it seemed to keep expanding forever. He didn’t want to think about it, that’s not what he came here for.

The voidly creature made a garbling noise, sounding as if a thousand voices were calling at once, no words were discerned, but somehow, he knew what they meant.

“I’m guessing you know what I want.” Tangerine said, nothing was said, but he suddenly replied, “Yes, I do understand the consequences of this. Do you not think I’m ready to sacrifice the lives of others?”


Tangerine sat at his light wooden desk, reading the old tome by the illumination of trapped light magic. They depicted old rituals, most he couldn’t discern, others had no words but screamed at him as he stared at the pages, he did not like those as the cacophony of yelling hurt his ears, despite no sound emitting from the book. Eventually tucked away in the middle was a ritual written in perfect modern draconian, he did not wish to know what made it different. It was to summon something, something all dragons learned to fear from a young age. As he stared at the drawing of the shadebeast, he swore it moved.


“I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement, their lives for an extension to my own. Pleasure doing business with you.” Tangerine nodded, and held his paw out to the creature. The creature lunged at the outstretched paw, it was cold, he didn’t know whether it was soothing or if it hurt. The sky seemed to darken, despite it being impossible for Light territory. The creature backed away, his paw still felt cold, and was seemingly stained black, before it slowly faded into his fur. He did not know whether to be worried or not.


The hatchling woke up with the tip of his tail gone, replaced with bloodstained bandages, he didn’t know what happened, neither did his parents, he cried softly into their feathers, it still hurt.


Tangerine held the last letter from a late friend, he read it for the last time. He had to rid himself of it, his friend was not strong enough to carry himself on, but he was, he would be.


The feather was the easiest to get, and the last, all it took was a small trip to shadow to find one, he went to catch it before it dissipated into smoke. The wood knew his intentions, he knew he must get around them. He had to.


Today a band of travelling merchants left, one turned into a pile of dust and bones apon leaving, the bones looked weathered from age, the second collapsed over dead, wrinkles of age covering their skin and their eyes glazed over, the third looked looked apon his companions in horror, before realizing he looked significantly older. Tangerine knew why.