The beer mug slammed against the spruce wood table, the frothy brown liquid inside swirling back and forth like a roiling ocean. Chatter and laughter in the background made as much sense as crashing waves, and flickering lights danced at the edge of vision. Stars with the same red-yellow colour as flaming torches.

Grizzly calloused fingers held the mug, slippery with alcohol, and with white knuckles as the man gripped the cup as tightly as he could. His brown eyes stared down at his drink, unfocused and dizzy as his body swayed atop the tri-legged stool he sat on. A heavy fur jacket lay on his back, accompanied by ragged brown hair and a misshapen beard dripping the remains of the frothy beer. His stomach gurgled and rumbled in complaint as he raised the wooden mug back to his lips and gulped down the last of the bitter, stale liquid. A cough escaped him, followed by a wretch as his stomach tried unsuccessfully to dispel the drink.

He put the now empty mug back on the bench, turning his eyes to the spinning room around him. There were too many people to count... or not enough. Torchers were scattered all over the walls, moving around like shooting stars. Tables and chairs twirled and twisted. One man... or at least the drunk assumed one... stood on the other side of the bar.

"Sir... refill," muttered the drunk, sliding his jug across the bar table toward the barkeep.

Footsteps banged against the floor, and a hand firmly grabbed the mug from the table and out of the drunk's reach, "Look, sir... I think you've had enough."

"No... no. One... more," the man slurred his words, blinking as he tried to keep the barkeep's spinning head in his vision, "I'll... befine."

"No, you won't. You need to go home, alright. It's almost midnight."

The drunk blinked again. That didn't sound right. He had only been there for... he couldn't remember. When had he gotten here? Was the sun up then? He could have sworn it was. Or it was bright. Brighter than usual. Mid-day right? Yeah, that sounded right. Maybe he should go home. But it was so far away... so far away, and he hadn't been there in so long. He couldn't remember exactly how long. Had to be years, right?

"Sir?"

The drunk grunted, pushing himself off the chair and gripping the counter to keep himself from falling over, "I'll... I'll leave."

"Okay. You need to pay your tab as well sir."

"Right... right. How much?"

"Two gold pieces sir."

Gold piece? Was that a lot, or very little? The man shrugged, reaching carefully into his woolly cloak, and pulling out a pouch of jingling coins tied at the top by a small string. It took him several tries, but he was able to undo the top. The glinting of gold in the firelight did very little to subside the pounding headache that was rushing through him, and for several moments he simply stared down into the pouch. Why had he taken this out again?

"Sir, payment."

Oh, right. He put his hand into the pouch, grabbing several gold pieces and dropping them onto the counter, "Th... that enough?"

"That's too much... its only..."

"Bah!" the drunk grunted, waving it off, "Consider it... uh... a tip! That's it... tip."

He placed the now loose pack of gold back into his coat and staggered toward the bar's exit. He heard a couple of words of protest but didn't know what was said, so he ignored it. He knocked his knee against one of the chairs, grunting in pain as he pushed open the heavy wooden door. He was blasted with a freezing wind and the whirling of pattering rain.

As the door slammed behind him he looked around with squinted eyes. He could make out a few speckled torchers along the darkened ravine walls. That's right, human eyes were horrible in darkness. Where was he staying again? He shrugged, stepping out from the small overhang. He was instantly drenched. Oh, it was raining. At least it cleared his head somewhat. It only made him more aware of the roiling in his stomach. He felt it rising up. He fumbled over to a nearby alleyway that he could just make out from the few protected torchers hiding under overhangs.

His stomach wretched, and he heaved out the bile from his throat and onto the stone, emptying the liquid contents of his stomach onto the ground. It left him breathing in ragged gasps as water dribbled down his head and face. He used the back of his hand to wipe his lips and beard, before falling back against the wall on the other side of the alleyway, taking several moments to catch his breath. His head was bounding, and the blistering headache wound its way down into his sore, dry throat. He groaned, closing his eyes. Maybe he would just rest there for the night. It seemed as good a place as any. Not the worst place he had stayed recently either. The sound of footsteps broke him out of his stupor, and his eyes flickered open to see several dark shapes surrounding him. There was a snorted laugh from among them.

"This is the man?" one of the voices said.

"Yep. A pouch full of gold he has," replied another.

"He looks homeless."

"Maybe he had a bad day?"

"More likely a thief."

One of the shapes crouched by the drunk, tapping him on his head, "Hey, thief, you awake?"

The drunk waved his hand, as though trying to swat a fly, "Go... away."

"He smells like death," said another voice, "Let's just get the gold and leave."

"Yeah, yeah alright."

A hand began to reach into the drunk's jacket. A flash of anger burned through him. He may be out of his head, but he could recognise a robbery when it was taking place. Without even thinking he struck out with the flat of his hand, slamming it into the attempted thief's nose. There was a grunt of surprise as the assailant fell back onto the wet ground. The drunk widened his stance slightly, putting up his hands in a poorly held defence.

"Oh, he's got some fight," chuckled one of the figures, "Alright mate. Just give us the gold, and we can let you go."

"You don't... want this," muttered the drunk, annoyed at the possibility of losing his stupor, "I don't... either. Leave... me alone."

He blinked. Why was the world tilting? The next thing he was aware of was that he was face-first against the ground, his cheek stinging from where he had been hit. Wait, what happened. Hands grabbed the back of his cloak and turned him around. Another fist slammed into his nose, causing him to groan.

"Had enough, drunk?"

Hands began to lift up his jacket once again, searching and prying for the gold pouch he had poorly hidden in one of the pockets. Pain rang through his nose. Part of him wanted them to keep going. Maybe it was his time to leave the world, but some hint of pride refused to be allowed to go out this way. He knew what he had to do, though it would ruin the drunken haze he had managed to get himself into.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, and suddenly his entire body dissipated into a white mist. The clothes he had been wearing fell limp against the ground, and the man who had pinned him down fell forward with a cry of surprise. The white mist swirled around above the assailants for a moment, taking its time to grow larger and larger. They stared, terrified, as suddenly the mist solidified into a completely different shape. One much large, with petrified white scales, four sharp taloned legs, a whipping spear-tipped tail, and large bat-like wings that spread with the dangerous growl of an angry, toothy maw. Slitted yellow eyes took in everything much more easily than the human eyes once had, and two long horns sprouted from the back of the dragon's head.

Before a scream could even leave their mouths, and sharp tail flicked through the air, stabbing through the first man's chest, and sprouting out his back. His eyes went wide in surprise, gripping the tail with disbelief, before falling limp. The drake flicked his tail, sending the corpse into the nearby alley wall with a crunch. The other four humans, each dressed in drenched leather and woollen jackets, began to back away.

The dragon snarled and lashed forward faster than a snake. He shredded through one with his claws, sending limbs and blood scattered over the ground. Another he decapitated with a single bight to the head and a shake. One he broke their back with a swing of the elbow of his wing, and the final he cut their throat with his tail. It all happened in a bit of a blur to the dragon, leaving him standing in amongst the corpses with heaving breath, the rain washing the blood from his pure white scales.

He slowly sat down on his haunches, rumbling slightly at the pain still present at the end of his snout and on his bruised cheek. The wounds from his human form having transferred over, but not the overwhelming bliss of drunken stupor. He sighed, shaking his head in annoyance, turning back to the soggy garments he had been wearing. Wrinkling his snout at the smell of spilt beer and vomit, he nosed through the clothes until he found the pouch of gold. He gripped it with his teeth and turned to leave the alleyway when he froze, spotting another figure at the end.

This one wasn't a human, but a dragon. Like him, but a bit larger, with earthy green scales and a brown underbelly. A dragoness with curled, ram-like horns and a large spiked ball at the end of her tail. Her wings were held close to her side, and her talons gripped the stone with panicked desperation as she stared at the white drake with wide eyes. She had seen him.

Before he could think, he was rushing forward, dissipating into white mist once again. She wasn't able to even move as he shifted form yet again, this time into a far large dragon, with the same green scales and underbelly as her, but quite a bit larger. His talons wrapped around her throat and slammed her to the ground with a dangerous snarl. A desperate whine left her as she was suddenly trapped, the other dragon's weight keeping her pinned to the ground. All the drake's senses were on fire, ready to move at the slightest moment. His eyes and his body tense, ready to dodge any elemental, or physical, attack she tried to throw at him.

But instead of fighting back, the dragoness only closed her eyes, bracing with a grimace as her body went limp under his... like she had given up. It caused the drake to hesitate, and for a long moment, he simply held her against the ground, breathing heavily through bared teeth. Her yellow eye opened, looking up at him with fearful acknowledgement. He rumbled a growl, before relaxing his grip. She seemed to huff in relief as he stepped off her, turning around to walk back to where he had dropped the glinting pouch of gold.

There was a shuffle of movement as the dragoness got to her feet. He gripped the pouch in his teeth and looked back at her with narrowed eyes. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to run away, and the fear in her eyes had been replaced by curiosity. She looked around at the bodies littering the alleyway with concern, before glancing back at the other dragon.

"I... I won't tell anyone," she said.

The drake grunted. He couldn't really care less anymore. He had revealed his true self. It was only a matter of time before he was tracked down... again. He trudged out of the alley, walking past her and glancing at the storming sky in distaste. It was far too dangerous to take flight at the moment.

"Wait!" the dragoness exclaimed, her claws clicking against the ground as she trotted after him, "You're a spirit dragon aren't you?"

The drake let out a sigh. It seemed spirit dragons had become common knowledge now. That would take some getting used to. Still, he would keep his elder earth-drake shape for a bit. It was far less noticeable in a primarily earthen city.

"I... I saw what they tried to do to you. You were just defending yourself," the dragoness continued, "I was gonna see if I could scare them off. I didn't realise you were a spirit dragon of all things."

The drake glanced at her, tilting his head, wondering why she was still following him. He had been moments away from killing her not too long ago. But she didn't seem at all concerned. If anything, her curiosity had only grown. He stopped, sitting down on his haunches, and dropping the pouch into his paw. She stopped as well.

"What do you want?" growled the drake.

"Oh... um... nothing really. I just... well... I wanted to talk," she smiled.

"Look, no offence, but I really am not in the mood to make new friends at the moment. So if you can just leave me alone, I need to find somewhere dry to spend the night," the drake turned to walk away once again.

"Wait... umm... my cave is dry."

He stopped, looking back at her suspiciously. What was with her interest in him? He suspected she would have run off long ago but she was trying to... what? Woo him? There was something else to this dragon. Something that didn't feel quite right.

"You're not element starved... are you?" rumbled the drake carefully.

"What? Why?" she answered in confusion.

"Yes or no."

"Well... no."

"Prove it."

She hesitated a moment, before turning her head and shooting a small pebbled into a nearby wall. The drake relaxed somewhat, though still regarded her with apprehension.

"I nearly killed you a minute ago, and now you invite me to your cave. Why?"

The dragoness seemed to think for a moment, "Well... it's what I do. Most of the time with drunk humans that don't have a way to get home... and you were pretty drunk when you came out of that bar..."

"I'm not drunk anymore."

"No... but you were... and to get like that... and how you reacted when you saw me... well... I just figure you need a bit of kindness."

Kindness? The word felt so foreign to the drake. No one just... acted like that. Did they? He turned back to the dragoness. He could use a nice dry sleep for once... in a comfortable nest... somewhere nice and warm. He shook his head with a growl. No. Even if this was some sort of charitable act he couldn't risk it. He could very well put her in danger if he did.

"I don't need charity," rumbled the drake.

"Well... I don't suppose you do... but I do have a spare nest you can sleep in... though it might be a bit small for your... well, your current size."

"Look... I appreciate the gesture but being around me is dangerous. It could get you killed."

She frowned, "Are you a bad dragon?"

He hesitated at the question, "I... uhh..."

"No. Vicious, maybe. But not bad. If you were, you would have killed me. So, stop being all mysterious, and stop making me chase you through the rain, and come and have a good nights sleep," she turned and began to walk back the way they had come.

The drake sat still for a couple more moments, utterly baffled. Who was this dragon that so easily trusted him, and was now practically demanding that he come with her? It felt so strange, and in most situations, he would consider this sort of action a poorly designed trap. But, as out of the ordinary as this was, he couldn't even consider this as anything but a genuine request.

"Well, don't just sit there, come on!" She called to him.

The drake sighed, maybe just one night wouldn't hurt.

He could do with a good sleep, without worrying about looking over his shoulder. Besides, it had been years since he had last seen his pursuers. The war had likely pulled them all back to the conclave. At least there was something good that had happened out of that. A huff escaped his nose, and he began to follow the dragoness back through the rain.

* * *

Her cave was a cosy place, one of the few dragon homes on the ravine floor. It was perhaps three dragon lengths wide, with a feeding pit on the right, a firepit in the centre, and several human beds against the left wall, along with a nest made from straw, blankets, and pillows. There were two more openings in the back wall, one the drake guessed led into her sleeping quarters, the other into what smelt like some sort of garden.

Resting in one of the beds was a passed out, half-dressed human man. He was snoring loudly and stunk of alcohol. It looked rather pathetic really, which made the drake feel rather embarrassed about his previous state.

"Oh, yeah, I've already brought in one stray tonight. So, you're gonna have to share with him," the dragoness smiled sheepishly.

"That's fine," the drake responded, looking around the cave with soft interest, "This is already nicer than most places I stay."

"I suspected as much. Oh, I didn't catch your name by the way."

The drake thought for a moment, before sighing, "The name is Vitto. Yours?"

"Kivillia," she smiled, "But you can call me Kivi."

"Well... Kivi... I appreciate the hospitality."

Vitto walked over to the nest. It was a little small for his current size, but that was easily dealt with. His body faded into mist once more, the gold pouch dropping into the nest, solidifying into a smaller form than his previous. This time he had opallic scales, glittering in the firelight all the way down his body and along his tail.

Kivi watched with fascination, "So... can you just take whatever form you want?"

"Pretty much... as long as I've copied it from someone beforehand," Vitto responded, curling up in the nest.

"Copied it?"

"It's... a little difficult to explain," rumbled the drake.

"Ah... why not take your normal form?"

Vitto gestured at the human, "Trying to keep myself from getting seen as a spirit dragon. Usually,... when I get seen... others come for me. So, try not to use my name... okay?"

"I won't," Kivi promised, sitting down by the fire, and spreading her wings to allow herself to dry, "What's your favourite form?"

Vitto narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering where all these questions were coming from but decided to oblige, "Fire drake."

"Really?"

"Yeah... not one I use often though."

"Ah... of course... with everything going on."

"Yeah."

"Can you turn into other things... besides dragons and humans?"

"I can."

"Like what?"

"Umm... I've got a phoenix... a lizard... several types of fish... I can do a snake... a deer... a roc, those big birds in the wind nation... oh, I have a sea serpent as well."

"You can turn into a sea serpent?" exclaimed Kivi.

Her exclamation caused him to smile slightly, "Yeah... that was pretty difficult to get. There are others I can do as well, but those are the most noticeable."

"That's kinda cool. And you can turn into any species of dragon right?"

"Yeah. Well... every one except metal and rift. Metal dragons are kinda pointless to copy cause we don't get the metal shells... and rift dragons cause I just haven't had the chance before."

Vitto felt himself relaxing. It felt oddly satisfying being able to just talk about his abilities without the worry that he would reveal too much and put the dragon in danger. With the war bringing spirit dragons out into the open, it wasn't difficult to get knowledge about them now. Though Kivi didn't seem to know much about them, it still felt good to open up a little bit about himself.

"Huh, why is that, with the metal dragons?"

"Oh, we don't get access to the elements of other dragons. We only take the physical attributes."

"Is that why you asked if I was element starved?"

"...Yes."

"Oh... are you hiding from the other spirit dragons?"

Vitto hesitated, "Yes."

"Why?"

"It's not something I really want to talk about."

"Oh... okay."

Silence stretched between them for several moments. Vitto allowed himself a yawn, stretching his wings out as he did. Now that he was able to relax he did feel himself becoming quite tired. The warmth was also making him rather drowsy. Even the man's snoring was going to keep him awake.

Kivi chuckled, "Alright, I can get a hint. I'll let you go to sleep. Can we talk more tomorrow?"

Vitto blinked as he glanced at her, "Um... sure."

"Cool... Goodnight then."

"Night."

He watched as she disappeared into her cave, thinking for a moment. He shook his head, curling a little tighter around himself as he looked into the fire in the centre of the room. Its crackling and popping seemed to resonate with the falling rain outside. It felt strange, sleeping in a proper nest, in a proper home. Smaller than his old one, but more comfortable, cosy, and just as warm.

As he looked into the fire, he couldn't help but be thrown back. Where fire danced through the air. The laughing queen. Ruby red hatchlings rushing through a castle of black stone as he chased after them, laughing all the time. He watched as they grew. Watched as they matured, fell in love, argued, fought, accomplished their goals. He watched... as one died before his eyes.

A familiar weight fell upon his head. One that he constantly fought back. He closed his eyes, fighting back the weight of tears as one trickled from his eye. Why was this coming for him now, of all times? A shuddering breath escaped him as he wiped the corner of his eye with his wing. He curled a little tighter around himself, forcing himself to relax as he slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

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Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed a return to Vitto. When this story came to me I knew I had to write it, though it ended up a bit different from how I originally planned. So let me know what you thought, what do you think of Kivi? And what do you think Vitto has been doing in the years since we last saw him? Comment down below, and as always vote for for the next story below.

Mind's Final Stand: Vanilier, Mind dragoness, and Laywil, Mind drake - 5Yrs BTA

The Dragonslayer and the Fire Queen Pt3 (Threats): The Dragonslayer, Human man - 3Yrs BTA

The Wrong Scales: Rennock, Earth drake - 32Yrs BTA

A Lost Species: Shade, Shadow drake - 8 Months BTA

See Ya!

Pennator^^