When Technical Support is Too Helpful

"Land here," she commanded as her heel dug into his scales.

"Yes, Mastress," the dragon obeyed, he tucked in his wings, and dove to the ground. A cloud of dust plumed when he touched down.

For all the wonders of the world he had read and heard about, Pat felt he had been lied to. Nothing, nothing but dirt and red skies as far as his deep purple eyes could see. A warm wind picked up more dust as it lazily swept over the desolate landscape. Pain flared in his head.

"You even think about flying away," he heard her sneer above a beeping noise in his head, "You are dead."

"I would not think of it, Mastress," he winced as she jumped off his head and landed flawlessly on her feet.

Her pale yellow eyes buried into his soul, "Good."

He watched his new mastress walk off to a mound of dirt. Shade Whulphe, compared to her  demons are saints. He was never the brightest color in the box, but if even one percent of the stories he has heard of her are true, it would be wise of him to listen and follow her every order. He saw her rosewood hair disappear behind the hill of dirt.

Pat never enjoyed his own company. All he ever thought about were the better days of his past: growing up with Onyx, being a soldier, having a wife, having dragonlings of his own... A heavy sigh escaped his nostrils. He laid his head down on the ground as a single tear soaked the parched land.

Vault 81 the sign read and Shade stifled an unamused grunt. She stood atop a metal airlock for the vault. To her surprise, the hatch opened without any resistance, which only made her eyes narrow. She dropped down into the vast darkness, her boots hitting the metal with a soft clank. With her night vision, she could see perfectly clear as she walked down the tunnel to the main chamber. For several minutes the only thing that kept her company were her light, metallic footsteps which echoed through the corridor. She found what she was searching for in the middle of the vast empty vault.

"Have you spoken to him?" she asked, her sharp tone cutting the thick silence.

"The only 'him' I have spoken to recently was Destray," a hooded figure informed her with his monotonous voice.

"Then why is he here!" she shouted, "I thought that brother of yours took care of it!"

"If you want something done right," two bright yellow orbs flashed, "then do it yourself."

"Listen, old man, you are only alive because it would be too much of a pain to kill you," she huffed and rubbed her temple in thought, "You need to  "

"I," the man interrupted her, "do not need to do anything. He is your personal problem. You deal with it."

"I can't," she grimaced, "he has my uncles and a few minor gods with him."

"Then maybe you should forgive him."

Shade scoffed and waved him off, "It was pointless to come to you."

"I agree. Away with you."

She growled at him before returning the way she entered.

"You can not kill him. She will not let him die. She loves him too much."

This made her stop in her tracks and look over her shoulder, "'She?' She who?"

Heaven

Dèshū impatiently blew strands of her pink hair out of her face. She kept herself entertained by watching Grey and the others through an orb on top of the chess board. You can't screw up now, big brudder.

The sound of glass rolling on the marble floor drew her attention away from the crystal ball and to the doorway. Mystin rolled his favorite prisoner into the room. She was sealed in a crystal globe with an enchanted golden cage impregnating the crystal. Her green eyes void of life. He entered the room beaming from ear to ear.

"Ah, my treasure," he cooed at the petite woman in the crystal prison, "I will not let you get away this time."

"Creepy~," Dèshū singsonged which earned her a glare from him. She smiled cheekily back at him.

He grabbed the rests of her throne shoving his face in front of hers, "Tell me what is happening in the orb."

Dèshū glanced at his hands defiling her throne before flashing her pink eyes at him, "No."

His face twisted in a dark grin, "Good, I was hoping you would say that." He stepped away from her and sat on his own throne. A black cage popped beside him when he snapped his fingers.

She stood up and stared in horror at the young boy with black wings trapped in the cage, "You leave him alone!"

"Tell me what I want to know," he demanded sternly.

She sat down on her throne, her grip cracking the bones of the rests, "If you think Darqlon is pissed now, you touch one hair on Ēōrùs' head, and you will beg for Darqlon to kill you!"

"Oh, but I won't be touching his hair," Mystin smiled, reached inside the cage and plucked one of the black feathers from the child's wing, who screamed in pain.

"I... I'm so sorry... Ēōrùs..." she began to cry.

"Auntie! Help me!" the young boy cried.

She gritted her teeth, "You are a monster, Mystin!"

"Tell me what I want to know!" he roared and pulled a hand full of feathers out of the child's wing.

Pyæ  Vault 18

Darqlon flexed his back as his black wings twitched.

"Big storm abrewin'?" Grey asked with a slight chuckle when he noticed his friend's discomfort.

"I do not know. Something feels wrong," Darqlon voiced.

Grey covered Luna with a blanket and knelt beside her. Onyx had finished covering the others and Kyllgorr held Amy in his arms as they both slept.

"I am going to go get some fresh air," Darqlon informed Grey. He walked down the dark corridor, the shadows absorbing him and comforting his troubled soul.