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You remember watching a video once, one with a dog deep in the throws of rabies. The way it gnawed at the bars of its cage, unheeding of the wounds it was causing itself and only spurred on by the taste of its own blood. You wonder, if this was a street dog, had anyone ever shown this beast love?
And if so, once the cameras were off, did they show this beast mercy in the only and final way they could?
…
Atisse stays up late with you sometimes - followed shortly by Kivye who tends to linger in your peripherals and bookending your nights. In the weeks following Barolt’s death, you’ve been growing more restless - everyone has. Tonight, it's just you and your oldest friend.
From across the campfire you can see how the light glows and dances in Atisse’s eyes. He’s a dragon, you’re reminded, and think it sad that for a long time it was only just you -an otherworlder - who knew that information.
One day, you hope that he won’t have to hide that from the townspeople, the merchants, the beggars, the children running by - anyone.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Atisse catches you.
You pull your chin from your hand to lean back. “Hm,” You start, not embarrassed in the slightest at having been caught staring, but maybe slightly that he caught you thinking something sentimental, “What’s it like, being a dragon?”
As a kid, dragons were always the coolest thing - and as an adult, well, they were still pretty darn cool. The final boss. The strongest steed. They were fire and power.
And freedom.
Atisse starts, and you wonder too late if maybe that was an insensitive thing to ask. Before you can correct yourself, he answers you.
“Well…” He looks to the rocks encircling the fire, keeping its searching fangs contained to the pit. “That’s not really a question I know how to answer. I guess I just feel like me?”
There’s more to it than that. More to it in a world like this . And you both know it.
He shakes his head before you can apologize, and so you find something new to say.
“You know,” You drawl, “In my world dragons are the stuff of myth.”
He already knew that you come from a world with no magic, and therefore no dragons. He looks curious at the fact that you had known of them before, even if just as a concept.
You continue, “They were always shown to be the strongest creatures. Sometimes they were monsters, sometimes they were heroes - but they were always the coolest characters.”
The night feels a little warmer, and you look over at Atisse to see him watching you intently.
“They were these unstoppable, magical things - legends themselves I guess. I loved playing games about dragons as a kid,” you carefully leave out as an adult too, and lean back on your palms as you observe your friend. “They were what most people thought of when they thought of strength and freedom.”
His chest puffs out a little at that, but you can see how he tries to retain his normal humble nature.
“I was blessed with strong wings.” Atisse explains to the best of his ability, and you realize that you maybe lingered on the word freedom a little too long, “So the air bends easily beneath them. I imagine the sensation is similar to that of wind running through your hair.”
Atisse looks off into the dark, star-studded horizon.
“I guess, in a way… it’s nice to be able to just take to the skies if I ever needed to.”
But curiously Atisse has never taken to the skies before. In all your previous fights, Atisse has remained grounded. Surely, even though that puts him next to you or the others, that puts him in a disadvantage. Yet you know, for some unknown reason, that Atisse will never change that.
In his position, you know you would not do the same.
You’ve never flown with Atisse before, only with Ephyr and even then it isn’t the same as feeling that freedom that they have yourself. You pick at the log you're sitting on to help try and ease the restlessness growing in you by the day.
You can’t fly away from this.
Atisse must sense that something didn’t settle right with you and waves his hands nervously, “You’ve only flown with Ephyr, right? Next time you can fly with me!”
The snort you give in response is good-natured, “Thanks, but you are a little more obvious than she is.”
There’s something wistful tugging at your stomach as you say it, and even Atisse looks a little down at the reminder of the reality of those words. This world would only marginally accept a dragon more than an otherworlder.
You feel bad about bringing down his mood again, “Y’know. If you were the one to be brought to my world, the people over there would be dying just to meet you once.”
The stick you toss in the fire pops. It’s warm and the night is peaceful. Atisse quirks a brow at you.
“But if you’re still willing to offer,” You look to the side like the child you haven’t been for decades, “Maybe when all of us get somewhere more remote. Like that desert again. That was a bitch.”
He hums a laugh in acknowledgement of your request, and then lowers his eyes as he returns to what you mentioned before.
“I guess here it’s just a little different.” He smiles at you - and you are happy, and you are heartbroken - to have such a good person with you on this journey, “I just don’t want to be seen as a monster here.”
You tighten your fist just slightly, but the split skin there stings from where you went a little too far beating in those monster’s skulls today.
You don’t want Atisse to notice, so he doesn’t.
And you pray that this restlessness ends soon. Before you see him as EXP one day.
…
Flashes of the fight play before your eyes as Hollian leads you through the halls where you suppose she is taking you to your friends. But are you - are they - still after all that?
You don’t want to face them. You want to see if they are okay - and pray that it was all a dream. And if not?
…Then why are you allowed to be walking free right now?
You see Leonhart leaning by a door, and the man is honestly so hard to read you aren’t sure. And yet, something sickening tells you that your hands remember what it feels like to cleave his flesh with your sword.
The three of you step into the room, and in your shame you confirm your nightmares are true by training your eyes on the destruction outside.
Atisse explains what you missed like nothing was wrong, Ephyr doubly as so. Kivye is there too, you know, but you don’t push as she stays silent and hidden.
You feel sick. But you pretend you aren’t and you pretend nothing is wrong and so they pretend nothing is wrong either.
Something heavy curls in your gut, and you are sickened with yourself as you realize it’s resentment. You’re horrified at that thought, and you are so, so ashamed - but against your wishes it is resentment and it’s directed towards your friends.
They didn’t put you down.
Ephyr raises her fist to you, an olive branch maybe, and you wonder if she believes that too.
Ephyr, ever so brave as she dashed between your Cross Impact (death.death.instantdeath) - closing the unfathomable distance between her and you when you wanted nothing more than to kill her. Kill her and level up.
So when she asks you if you would help them in the next dungeon, return to the fight like it was a normal weekday, you say -
“No.”
And though Ephyr pleads, you see that you have caused irreparable damage to the bonds you so painstakingly built. Ephyr and Leonhart flinch at your movements as you attempt to surrender your sword, dreading that the mad dog that you are is baring its fangs at them once more.
But Atisse (all power and strength and chained freedom - but more freedom than you), steps up and offers you the bullet you so desire for.
“Thanks for being this dragon’s friend.”
Atisse hadn’t killed you. But he lets you go.
And maybe that is all the mercy he can give you.