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Deviant is often seen as the quiet brooding type, but his silence has a story to tell. He’s the eldest of the sanctuary, and runs the military with a calculated knowledge. Under his command, the group is close-knit and is always up for a challenge, as they feel empowered by his trust in them. His command is kind, and encourages individuals to shine in their respective skills. Thus, the military is made up of mighty dragons, ones that hardly ever lose due to their tactile advantages.

Underneath his external facade of silence, lies a darkness that cannot be undone. A wound so deep that not even the most caring of souls can heal it. Each and every one of his children were taken too soon, and under harsh circumstances. The few that survived, he’ll never see again. This great sadness drives his affinity for skulls. After a battle, he can be seen stalking the carnage, spending time with the dead as if they’re living beings that can speak with him. He finds solace there, resting his claws on corpses, telling them how honorably they fought and how their sacrifice will not go unnoticed.

Any chance he gets, he will collect the skull of a fallen enemy, ally, or any dead thing that crosses his path. His collection lines the sanctuary, showing visitors a macabre wall of death. To him, it is beautiful. An expression of death that shows how anything can live on, be remembered once their souls leave their body. The impact they left on the world still alive, one that everyone can see. No one dares disturb the resting place he chooses for these skulls, they seem too important to him, and although he’s never spoken out of anger to his companions, many fear what would happen if his collection were to be disturbed.

Formaldehyde

As I wander through these corridors, shadows dance in the light of the windows. Everything is eerily calm, and my whiskers twitch as the dust floating through the air comes in contact with them. I finally reach my destination – Clavier’s room. Poking my head through the door, I don’t find Clavier, but Theodore, the nuisance of a dragon that I’d prefer not to interact with.

This was our space, Clavier and I, why did he always have to intrude? He’s running his claws long the spines of the books lining Clavier’s shelves, as if he’s looking for something. Didn’t he have enough of his own books? Boldly, I stepped into the room, walking right up to him. My fur bristles as I let out the meanest hiss I can manage, a warning to vacate the area.

To my fury and disgust, he doesn’t leave. Instead, he turns to me, kneels down and lifts me from the floor. I fight against him, all claws and teeth, but he won’t be discouraged. He runs his claws gently down my spine, a sensation that I hate to admit feels good.

Theodore

A hiss disturbs my pensive search for this book I really need, and I turn to see Formaldehyde, Clavier’s cat – the broken soul of his former love within. I pick her up and she fights me at first, but calms once I pet her a few times. She’s never been particularly fond of me. I return to the bookshelves with her in my arms.

“I’m looking for Clavier’s notes on a medicine that he needs, he doesn’t feel well enough to be able to make it himself.”

I feel kind of silly, talking to a cat as if it can understand me, but Clavier always does, so I hope that it’ll help calm her. Turning towards the bed, I gently lay Formaldehyde down next to the sleeping Clavier, and return to my search.

“Ah, here it is.”

I pull the loose pages from in between a field guide and an alchemy book, skimming my claws along the paper until I reach the recipe for the medicine. Retreating to my laboratory, I swiftly put the medicine together and finish it without a hitch. The recipe was simple enough, although Clavier’s handwriting left something to be desired. I’d often joked with him that he should give me lessons, I’m the one who’s a doctor after all.

Returning to Clavier’s room, I set the vial of medicine on his bedside table, taking a moment to watch over him and the sleeping cat. Formaldehyde stirs, looks up, and meows at me. Soon, she gets up and walks to the edge of the bed towards me. On some level, she must know that I’m helping Clavier. I lay a claw on her head and pet her.

Suddenly, I’m lost inside my mind’s eye. No, not mine, Formaldehyde’s. I see a flash, an inkling, a scene of Formaldehyde with a brown tundra – not Clavier. Then, the flash is gone, and another is in its place – Formaldehyde and Clavier. I sense a longing, a desire for both souls. And guilt, oh the guilt of lying. She can’t decide between the two, and so she continues this charade, hopping between the two, keeping them a secret from each other.

The flashes fade away, and I’m left looking at Formaldehyde in a new scene, one that feels much more real, as if I’m actually there. Someone tells her to go to the river – something’s happened. She runs as quickly as her feet will carry her until she reaches the riverbank, panic rooted deep in her chest. Once she arrives, it’s as awful as she imagined, maybe worse. Clavier is lying on the rocks lining the river, unmoving. She runs to him, tries to wake him up. She lays a claw on him gently, and it comes away bloody. Resting her head against his, she feels nothing. He’s cold. No pulse, no heartbeat, no life within. She lets out a wail, her love dead in her arms.

The brown tundra from the first flash approaches her, and wraps his arms around her shoulders. He tries to bring comfort, breathing slowly as she cries.

“Everything will be okay.” He whispers softly into her ear, and she turns to him, burying her face in his mane.

Everything fades, and I’m seeing a town engulfed in the dark of night. Almost silently, a tundra stalks the streets – Clavier. He’s looking around frantically, trying to find Formaldehyde. She sees him, and begins to run towards him, but stops short. The realization comes that he’s resurrected himself – and she’s scared. Does he still hold all the same memories? Is he still the same dragon? Sometimes, on resurrection, things get broken. Not everything comes back. The body lives again, but the mind is fractured.

Suddenly, her fear is amplified when she sees the brown tundra walking towards Clavier as he scans the town. His fur is bristled and he wears a scowl, and once Clavier notices him his posture matches. They stand off against one another, mere inches from each other’s faces, fangs bared and eyes narrowed.

“Oliver.” Clavier growls.

I already know the next part of the story. Everything goes completely black. There’s a barrier, something keeping Formaldehyde from remembering, but Clavier has told me himself. It doesn’t need revisiting, a tragedy on all accounts. A fight for the history books, but only so that history doesn’t repeat itself.

Darkness surrounds me once again, this one dank and wet. I can hear water dripping – I’m inside a cave. There’s a light coming from deeper in the cave, and I walk towards it, feeling the wetness and cool stone beneath my feet as if I’m really there. As I approach the light, I hear a noise, a harmonized humming. I round the corner to see glowing orbs of light – souls wandering the cave. Formaldehyde’s is almost too easy to spot, and I watch her wander aimlessly, lost on all accounts.

I take a step closer, eyes filling with wonder. This is a huge system of caves, thousands of souls trapped within. I look up at an ocean of light dancing along the ceiling, reflecting onto the walls of the cave. Formaldehyde’s soul stays close to the ground, as if something is weighing it down.

Suddenly, I realize I’m not alone. The figure of a dragon emerges from the shadows – Clavier. He’s come for her, to take her home. He approaches her soul with caution, cradling the orb in his paws. Closing his eyes, he clasps her soul between his claws, as if he’s trying to leave with her. Nothing happens, he’s still there, her soul’s still trapped between his claws. He closes his eyes tighter, grimacing this time. He can’t leave with her, it just won’t happen. A sigh escapes him, and he lets her soul float slightly above one of his paws as he recites an incantation, coaxing the soul closer to his chest. This time, the two of them disappear from sight, as if they’d never been there. I squint, trying to see if a shadow had obscured them, but it hasn’t, they’re gone.

Next thing I know, the scenery changes around me. The cave slowly disappears, all the souls with it. As it fades, I’m met with a frigid chill that ruffles my feathers as the wind blows against them. I’m surrounded by white, so much light that I have to squint my eyes to see. Taking a step forward, my paws are met with the crunch of fresh snow. I scan the field to find Clavier lying in the snow, a small cat lying next to him. Slowly, he stirs and hoists himself to his feet, picking the cat – Formaldehyde – up and cradling her in his arms.

I’m thrown from the vision, and as real as everything had felt, it suddenly slips away from me as I regain my wits in Clavier’s room. Had I just seen inside a cat’s mind? I blink, shaking my head as my feathers ruffle forward, then look down at Formaldehyde, who’s staring up at me with the most intense eyes I’d ever seen on a cat.

“Please take good care of Clavier.” Echoes in my mind.

I squint – the voice inside my head wasn’t my own. Formaldehyde continues staring up at me before a meow escapes her. I run a claw along her striped back and try to communicate back with her.

“I will.” I say in my head.

But our connection is gone. Whatever had just happened, it was temporary, she wasn’t meant to be connected to me. She’s Clavier’s, and Clavier’s alone. Now I understand why he talks to her so much. So I say it out loud.

“I will.”

Clavier stirs, slowly opening his eyes, “Huh?”

My attention snaps to him, and I smile as I pick up the vial of medicine I’d made, “Here, drink this.”

Clavier takes the medicine, grimacing at the taste before resting his head back on the pillow. Formaldehyde walks up and rubs her head against Clavier’s chin, and he manages a smile, resting a claw on her back.

“Hello, my sweet girl.”