Poetry in Motion
Introduction wrote:
Influenza is the clan's scribe, but also a poet and a huge literature fan. He enjoys writing about anything and everything, but especially likes emotion-filled and scenic writing.
His most notable feature are his ruined and scarred scales, which were gained from being thrown into the Wrymwound. He hides them with as much clothing and dim lighting as possible.
Influenza had always liked travelling. There's nothing that inspires writing more than wandering aimlessly and inquisitively, your only destination the pages of your next pieces of work.
Today, Influenza found himself at a rather small trading post. One could hardly call it a trading post, in the dim light he was sure it could have been mistaken for some kind of graveyard. The only thing that guided his steps were the blue bioluminescent fungi that were littered about the land, but he didn't mind. This place, the Wispwillow Grove, was always worth visiting. It was the most beautiful place within the Tangled Wood, its glowing fungi and looming trees were something out of a marvelous horror tale.
Taking in every last detail of the trading post, Influenza's attention was stolen by a little sign with delicate writing. "Night Candle Tavern and Inn" it read. From the intricate design of the building, he thought it to be quite welcoming.
He hoped it was dark inside. His scales, scarred, ruined, and melted could frighten anyone from hatchling to deity. It would really, really, really be better for everyone if he kept his scales out of sight. They were why he wore so much clothing, after all.
Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to stay a while. To be fair, he did need a place to sleep for the night.
Interested but wary, Influenza slowly pushed open the door to the tavern. He quickly found himself entranced by the sights and smells that greeted him. He could smell the delicious aroma of what could only be carefully roasted meat. Of course mixed with that aroma was the stink of alcohol, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind at all.
The building was lit only by enchanted candles that floated about aimlessly. The whole area was shrouded in an entrancing blue light and soft purple fumes. Such ambiance was rivaled by no other place Influenza had ever visited.
He eyed the counter near the back of the room where the barkeeper was serving drinks. Such a sight was a dull reminder of how he hadn't drank anything in a while. Surely, one drink wouldn't hurt.
The stools before the barkeep were empty, as every other dragon had retreated to the tables to idly talk among each other. So when Influenza approached, the barkeeper smiled. His icy iridescent scales reminded him of his first home in the Southern Icefield. Ah, how he missed the cold.
"What can I get ya?" the Skydancer chirped, his snout baring a welcoming smile.
"Something cold," Influenza's despondent blue eyes peered from underneath hood, distracted by memories of a life once lived.
"Far from home, ain't ya?" He asked as he poured him a drink, big eyes bulging with curiosity. Afterward, he slid him the glass. "I mean I never seen ya around before."
"I live in the Sunbeam Ruins, actually. It's just about two days worth of flying." Influenza replied as he took a sip. The drink was watered down. A lot.
"I see, I see. Ya one of them clan dragons?" He asked. His eyes were peering downward at the floor and away from Influenza as he pondered something.
"Guess you could call me that. They treat me alright over there," Influenza answered with a uninterested but quiet tone as he slid a small bag of treasure as payment. Right. Shadow and Light dragons weren't known for getting along so well.
"... Well, I'd be careful if I was ya. Shadow folk don't like Light folk too much!" The barkeep laughed, half-joking, half-serious, as he took the treasure into his small talons.
"I wouldn't worry." Influenza responded curtly. He may be a scribe, but he could deliver a good kick or two if he had to. The thought of him losing... heh, fantasy.
The two's conversation was rudely interrupted when the door audibly burst open. Influenza slightly turned to see a group of Mirrors, four to be exact, run into the tavern with a cheer. The Shadow dragons eyed them oddly for a brief moment, but quickly returned to their own activities. Noticing their red glowing Plague eyes, Influenza silently adjusted his hood over his eyes. Filthy.
Influenza gripped his drink with sharpened claws as he recollected the time in which a pack of Plague Mirrors threw him into the Wrymwound. It's what gave him these ruined green scales, this unsightly appearance. He used to be pink. He used to be happy.
The Mirrors rushed over to the counter, interrupting his thoughts. "Barkeep! Four drinks for the Smoke Squadron Mirrors! Gimme your strongest!"
The barkeeper quickly abided by their request before shrinking away. He seemed to be intimidated by these dragons.
They sat down on the stools beside Influenza, who pretended not to notice them.
However, they very much seemed to notice him. "Hey there, pretty Nocturne," one said, a Mirror with coral ripples that made up his scales and a crimson smoke patterning running through his body, wings and tail. In fact, it seemed all of these Mirrors had some sort of smoke pattern. "How you doing tonight?" his friends laughed.
Influenza, careful to keep his eyes hidden so that his Flight allegiance may be concealed, took a sip of his beverage. He didn't reply.
"You got a brain in that pretty head o' yours?" The coral Mirror spoke again. The joke garnered boisterous laughter from his companions.
Perhaps with the low amount of light, they couldn't see his roughed up scales. Good.
Influenza's eyes were slits as he eyed the Mirrors. A coral one, a green one, a light grey one, and a dark grey one. He... hadn't met these dragons before, right? The likelihood that he was having a slip of the mind was low, right?
"Damn. Never heard of the Smoke Squadron, baby? Or better yet, Pack Powerful?" The green one piped up next. "We're stronger than the deities themselves!"
Something clicked. Influenza clutched his drink with shaking claws. Pack Powerful. Yes, that was the name of the pack of bloodthirsty Mirrors that threw him into the Wrymwound, the pack that made his beautiful pink scales sizzle and painfully morph into this coarse form of a body. They tossed him into that lake like an animal carcass being discarded after all the vital parts had been harvested.
The glass shattered under the pressure of Influenza's claws, earning surprised looks from the barkeeper and the Smoke Squadron Mirrors.
"Why not give us a look at that pretty face of yours, sunshine?" One of them, the light grey one, had gotten the hint.
If he did that... They might recognize him. Influenza gritted his teeth at the grim realization. Fine then. If they wanted to see, they'll see.
Silently, Influenza stood and backed away from the stool. Then with one shake, the hood was off his head. The coral one mimicked the sound of vomiting. The rest laughed.
The coral one paused to speak. "Damn. You're that Nocturne from a while back, yeah? Angered chief like that." He laughed, a hollow sound. "You deserved it."
The remark cut into Influenza's heart like a saw upon wood. Deserved it...? Nobody... deserved to have their scales burned off. Nobody deserved to be made into a monster. But some dragons aren't made monsters, weren't they?
Influenza looked down at his claws. He watched as they froze with Ice magic and didn't try to stop himself at all.
Without a warning, he brought one of his paws, covered in jagged eyes up in a vicious uppercut that featured the coral Mirror getting punched in the chin. He was knocked unconscious instantly.
Oh, how he loved Flight advantages.
The three remaining Mirrors were taken aback for only a moment. Then, they sunk into battle stances. Influenza could hear them cursing and insulting him, but it was if their voices were coming from some world far away, faded and muted.
The green Mirror aimed a blow at his head, causing Influenza to duck. The light grey Mirror charged into his chest, slamming him against the counter.
Influenza froze his claws and grabbed the dark grey Mirror's crest. He froze them over, causing him to shriek and fall backwards from the weight of the ice. The light grey Mirror rushed over to him.
The green Mirror locked his Plague-ridden claws around the Nocturne's neck and began to violently shake him, his infected claws beginning to sink into his scales. The light grey Mirror had risen from beside the darker grey one, who had began clawing at the ice, and leaped at Influenza's head, but missed when Influenza jumped on top of the counter. He crashed into the wooden frame of the counter and stayed down.
Roaring in fury, Influenza could vaguely hear the distant footsteps of the dark grey Mirror as he ran toward Influenza.
Coughing and choking, Influenza grabbed a glass from the counter and knocked it upside Carlyle's head. He slumped over, unconscious from the blow.
Suddenly, the green Mirror grabbed the back of Influenza's head and slammed it into the counter. Stunned, Influenza slowly raised himself upwards, only to be interrupted by the Mirror again who threw him onto the floor.
Influenza lay winding on the floor. With dizzy eyes, he could see the green Mirror grab a floating candle from the air.
"You Ice dragons don't like fire too much, don't you?" he heard his faded voice.
His opponent leaped at him, candle in his claws. Influenza weakly rolled to the side, avoiding him and causing him to fall onto the floor. Then, with one last heave of his Ice magic, entrapped both of the Mirror's paws in thick ice. The last Mirror had been restrained.
Slowly yet steadily, Influenza stood up and dragged himself over to the counter. That's when the sound came rushing back. He could hear the shocked and terrified murmuring of the costumers in the tavern.
Influenza saw what he had done clearly now. He saw the unconscious Mirror, head lodged in the counter. He saw the fainted Mirror who he had knocked out with a single uppercut. He saw the struggling and fumbling Mirror whose crest was still frozen. And he saw the furious Mirror whose paws were frozen together.
His world fell to ruins around him, Influenza fell onto a stool. His expression underneath the hood was distraught and torn.
He... He did that? Him..? Couldn't... be...
Maybe he really was the monster he saw in the mirror.