4-A simple step

  -As Kaelia, an Omen of Ruin

  Entry 49 - A Predator's Grace - Year 985

  I know he is kind. I have seen the evidence. But I cannot quiet the instinct that screams when he is near. I am a Leporid. My people are prey. He is... a predator on a scale my ancestors could not have imagined. When he sits in the great hall, perfectly still, it is not his power I fear. It is his stillness. The utter, absolute calm of an apex predator that knows nothing in this creation can threaten it. Others find comfort in his peace. I see the patience of a mountain that knows it will outlast us all, and my heart hammers against my ribs.

  — Pip, a recent arrival

  “Processing shall take place…” The shorter, furred man spoke. A ‘Broker’, a signer of lifes. Void-Pelt has seen them before. Touchy, Feely. They take from Void-Pelt, they—

  “No, Tobias.” The tall draconic being rumbled. They were strong, powerful. They speak of freedom. Does… Void-Pelt get freedom? How does… Ruin… Trav—

  Over the guard rails, the large draconic being placed his hand directly on the glass. It resonated, hummed, demanded he step back. Yet he does not. Inside the palm of his hand a small swirling dark mass began to form. Void-Pelts own fur, as I look down, matches that masses color. But how? Does he see the destruction that darkness has brought her?

  Yet he does not wait. The dark mass turns spherical, hard, yet soft. It runs the sphere through that which contains Void-Pelt. It pulls, it consumes. Nothing is left in its wake, like where Void-Pelt goes.

  “S-Sir Dragon that cell is—” The shorter furred man exclaims, as one of Void-Pelts kind places a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up.

  “I believe Fethrblaka will pay for all damages, as he always does Tobias.” The beautiful, elegant lady, who has many-more tails than Void-Pelt, speaks so calmly. Is that the freedom Void-Pelt will have? Will ‘Sir Dragon’ make Void-Pelt be like her? Can Void-Pelt even—

  ‘Sir Dragon’s’ hands reach through where the sphere was, the sphere the color of Void-Pelt, and physically pulled down the remaining part of the wall. The sound of it hitting the ground, the guard rail, was resonating. It did not shatter; it did not break. It echoed through this captivity time and time again. Sir Dragon stepped through that large hole now… No smell of destruction, merely the fresh breeze of that which was outside, now inside with Void-Pelt. He kneeled, some distance away from Void-Pelt… Near her bed, near the hole he created… He does not reach for Void-Pelt, but they always reach for Void-Pelt…

  “Kaelia…” He spoke, roughly in my language. Void-Pelts heart stopped for a moment, she could feel the swell of something she doesn’t know. Doesn’t understand. Why.

  He sits a band of silver down, it’s a collar. Next, he lays a cloak. Both on Void-Pelts bed. He moves to the opposite corner of Void-Pelt, there’s space between us.

  “The collar keeps you safe from anything you don’t wish happening to you. It will form to whatever you desire, and can be worn anywhere.” ‘Sir Dragon’ spoke, his voice low, rumbling. He held up his own, so shiny, so silver… He moved it, placing it on his thigh, why a collar on his thigh? But it formed, it laced itself around it. Even above his clothes, it formed a band of prismatic coloration, matching his chestplate’s.

  “The cloak will prevent others from seeing you, except those who have high perception. Who have a deeper magical knowledge. Who have strong instincts.” ‘Sir Dragon’ continued as he knelt once more, now moving to sit in the corner. Why.

  Void-Pelt doesn’t understand, why is she being tested… Minutes… Void-Pelt has stood for minutes, and only two of the three outside has left. The elegant one of her kind rests so calmly, amusedly on the rail outside. She watches ‘Sir Dragon’ so closely, almost… Intimately. Why.

  His gaze does not rest on Void-Pelt, his gaze looks above. But as Void-Pelt looks above, there is nothing. Only glass. Only the second layer of her cage. Yet looking back, he does not move. His chest, slow rise, slow fall… The sounds of something fierce held back within with every breath. Why does he not tell Void-Pelt what to do. She is just standing. She is just…

  The elegant one’s tails flick amusedly, her gaze resting on me. Does she command me? Only a small smile crosses her face. Void-Pelt’s eyes come back to rest back on the collar, the cloak. Does Void-Pelt choose? Are they both for Void-Pelt?

  ‘Only the strong can see you in the cloak’ Void Pelt remembers, glancing at ‘Sir Dragon’. He is strong, he can see her in it. But all are stronger than Void-Pelt…

  A single, lightless step… And another. ‘Sir Dragon’ does not move, his breaths still steady….

  One more…

  One more…

  The collar is… Smooth… No spikes, but magical. No curses, no harm. It is new, it is fresh, none other has worn this before. Was this made for Void-Pelt? Is the collar the wrong choice?

  The cloak is… Ancient. Void-Pelt feels the air leave her lungs as her paws caress it, in awe, in… Everything. Illusion, Reflection, the smell of ‘Sir Dragon’s’ very aura rests within this. Of his feathers, of his very hide. It is a piece of him. No curses, no harm, and Void-Pelt can tell many have worn this coat before… They felt… Secure… Calm… Concerned… Conflicted… Is this the wrong choice?

  Are they both the correct choice?

  Does Void-Pelt… Choose?

  The elegant one’s tails flick more now, her posture unchanging but the smile, the smugness on her grows. She peers, gazes. At Void-Pelt, at ‘Sir Dragon’. Yet he does not move. He does not stare. Void-Pelt has felt his eyes flick in her moments of unknown, but barely for a fraction of a second. Like he merely wishes to understand Void-Pelt…

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  “V-Void-Pelt… Would ruin these…” Void-Pelt speaks, quiet, unsure. Void-Pelt needs guidance. These are special. These are valuable. Too valuable for Void-Pelt, that must be the test.

  “Those are Kaelia’s. For you, to use as long as you wish to.” Sir Dragon’s voice rumbles quietly, reverberating off the glass, the hum nearly musical. But Void-Pelt winces, expecting witticism, expecting normalcy.

  Kaelia… Void-Pelt said that unknowingly, amidst the frantic panic, of the gaze he gave her. Her new owner was mad, yet he didn’t heed to him. ‘Sir Dragon’ was different. But difference meant bad, right? Void-Pelt was different, Void-Pelt was—

  “He’s been in there for the last half hour.” The Elegant one spoke to the small furred male, who returned. Her amused tone, her tails still so beautiful, so lively… Sir Dragon’s eye landed on her, slowly he... Nodded?

  “Ooh? Did I miss something, Fethrblaka?” The Elegant cooed, amused, now stretching. Her sandals kicked off, she gracefully came over the bar, and walked towards the entry of Void-Pelts cell.

  “May I enter, you cute little thing?” The Elegant asked, staring at Void-Pelt… Sir Dragon’s attention was on The Elegant, not on Void-Pelt. But Void-Pelt could feel he was paying attention to Void-Pelt… Void-Pelt looked back to The Elegant, who stood still, her smile unwavering, her tails still so lively as they flicked too and from… Slowly, the smell of unknown flowers glided across the space…

  “Void-Pelt… Cannot say no…” Void-Pelt speaks sheepishly, her grip on the coat stronger now. Why is Void-Pelt still touching such priceless things? The collar, more like a crown. The Coat, more like….

  “It’s… Like a Void… Like Void-Pelt.” Void-Pelt murmurs, was this… So Void-Pelt could finally disappear?

  “It’s Fethr’s favorite trinket~.” The Elegant’s voice traced Void-Pelts ear. So soft, so warm. A shiver ran through Void-Pelt, glancing back. But she was distant, more than an arms reach away now, in her cell. With Void-Pelt. “He is loaning those to you. Don’t worry, they’re as durable as he is.”

  Void-Pelt looked back down, unsure. Those words weren’t from her new Master. They weren’t from ‘Sir Dragon’. But, he did not speak. His gaze now rests on her, her hands. He watches… Is this his demand? Is this his test?

  Void-Pelt’s breath is shaky, uneasy, she swallows despite the dryness in her throat…

  The coat is… Warm. Kind… She can feel the pressure from her very existence lessen. The small furred one is confused, perplexed. Yet The Elegant and ‘Sir Dragon’ remain knowing…

  Void-Pelts crown is… Smooth, comfortable. Removable. Neck, arm, thigh, even hip and fingers… Void-Pelt can… Choose?

  Neither of them move, but The Elegant’s playfulness, her glee is uncontained. She watches, like she wants to pounce on Void-Pelt.

  “Kaelia, you said Fethrblaka?” The Elegant mused, glancing toward ‘Sir Dragon’… Feather… Blaka…

  “Feather….” Void-Pelt slowly whispered, her throat constricting lightly, like Void-Pelt was trying to swallow and remember her new owner’s name. His ears perked, like Void-Pelts would to catch the smallest, lightest of conversations. He heard Void-Pelt… But… He does not move, does not scorn or threaten Void-Pelt for saying his name, instead of Master, Owner, or other names….

  “You may call me that, if you wish.” Feather… Fethrblaka… ‘Sir Dragon’… Owner, Master, Feather—Fethr—Owner—

  “You’re overthinking it, little cutie.” The Elegant’s voice cut through the symphony in Void-Pelts head, causing me to turn, to grasp Void-Pelts Crown more, now laying on Void-Pelts wrist. It was the same color as Sir Dragon’s plumage, a deep purple… The Elegant was closer, her hand held out face level. To slap, to shame, to hurt Void-Pelt…

  Void-Pelt tensed, eyes closed, waited, but the touch never game. It was held there. Was The Elegant’s hand too graceful, too beautiful to strike Void-Pelt? Was the mere action alone meant to cause the pain Void-Pelt deserves? Is Void-Pelt meant to—

  “Lean into it.” The Elegant’s voice spoke, as Void-Pelts eyes opened slowly, her hand unwavering, unmoving… Her smell of unknown flowers was stronger, yet calmer. She tilted her head, like she was weighing Void-Pelts worth with a mere glance… Lean into? Void-Pelt was told to strike, to move, to—

  “Slowly… Lean into it.” The Elegant’s voice came again, quieter, more… Personal… Void-Pelt caught Sir Dragon’s body tenser, his body ready to snap forward… What was Void-Pelt supposed to do?

  Void-Pelt… Slowly… Leaned her face into The Elegant’s hand… Void-Pelt winced… But the softness was all that was there… Void-Pelts void pelt merely grazing her warmth, unsure of how much. But… More…?

  Slowly, Void-Pelt felt The Elegant’s hand finally touch her skin, beneath the void. She was warm, she was… Soft… My heart fluttered, it raced, like an escape attempt, like a beating that never ceased, like a sentence being dragged through the streets… But this was… Different. Void-Pelt could meld, could lean into this, and it was… Fine…

  Void-Pelt could feel a string of tears, but she…. I… Couldn’t tell why…

  “The place he will take you… Will offer you more of this.” The Elegant finally spoke, Void-Pelts emotions running rampant. I couldn’t breath, yet all I could do was breath. I couldn’t think, yet all I could do was think. Was The Elegant giving Void-Pelt… Something? Her fingers traced deeper into Void-Pelts fur. Softly, tenderly, yet tears never stopped. “Remember this feeling, Kaelia. It is one you will experience over and over until you understand.”

  But Kaelia isn't... I can't feel anything from that name. It doesn't belong to me. I am Void-Pelt...

  …

  …

  …

  When I awoke, I was no longer in the House of Glass. I was not left stripped bare, I was not chained in a small enclosure, nor was I forced to stand.

  Void-Pelt… Was… In a bed. Alone. Covers, pillows, things only given to those who owned Kae—… Who owned Void-Pelt. The room was warm, but not hot. What was Void-Pelt to do? When was Void-Pelt supposed to leave? Was Void-Pelt confined here?

  …

  …

  …

  No matter the time, Void-Pelt was… Comfortable… Nothing rushed in, nothing demanded… But, a grumble from Void-Pelts stomach finally shifted herself. Void-Pelt had gone without food before, this was like then… Right?

  …

  …

  …

  Void-Pelt heard not when another entered, not sat beside her. But when she awoke… Sir Dragon sat there. Food in one hand, the cloak in the other. He sat away, distant, but there.

  “Don’t force yourself to eat if you can’t stomach the food. When you’re feeling up to it, you can leave your room and… A kind soul will help you find what you need.” Sir Dragon spoke, quietly, the rumbling Void-Pelt has learned by now. The sound of the master…

  “Is… Void-Pelt… Allowed to… Eat? And… Move?” Void-Pelt’s voice was hoarse as Sir Dragon nodded towards a cup on the nearby table. It was a darker liquid, but shined in the low light. Void-Pelt didn’t think, she merely grabbed for it, drinking it all in one deep drink. It was chilled, it caused Void-Pelt to choke… But, Void-Pelt could feel herself feeling better immediately. The plate of food, chunks of meat, green plants, elegance and decadence served only to her masters… But he placed it in front of Void-Pelt. Void-Pelt cared not for the consequences, her stomach churning and howling, as she wolfed down the food. Was this her only meal? Is this the only chance she’ll get?

  “There are clothes in the wood box on the far side of the room. I will leave you this cloak… When you finally decide to leave, or wish for more food, or the bathroom, someone will be waiting for you.” Sir Dragon rumbled, causing Void-Pelt to freeze. The food was delicious, it was sustenance, it was beyond what Void-Pelt deserves… And her plate was empty.

  But… Sir Dragon offered… More? He stood slowly; the cloak left in the chair where he was. He moved slowly, too slow, too controlled… As he took the plate from Void-Pelt. He got so close but didn’t strike Void-Pelt… This was certainly a test.

  Even as Sir Dragon made his way to the door, a simple opening of it, he glanced back.

  “Welcome to The Hearth, Kaelia.” He spoke, so simply. So, calmly…

  Kaelia was rather hard to write.

  entire chapter would have been, probably, 25% the size. Because while he can feel what she's experiencing, you can't truly grasp the nature of such a thing without being them. I think this touch is so much better and fulfilling, and the thing I wanted to do with another book so desperately, but felt so out of place for... So, maybe I'm just taking out my creative frustrations here... Who knows! :D