Prompt: You have been captured by someone, drugged and bound. You can no longer feel the partner-of-your-mind-and-heart. However, your dragon has eluded capture. This chapter must be from your dragon's point of view. You must explain how, who by, why and where you were taken, as well as how your dragon saves you

Score: 10.5 (tied with @Nikkisha16) Eliminated w/ 3 votes (@Nikkisha - 8, @Pennator - 2)

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, lilac tinted light filtered into the black-night-darkness that had clouded my vision. As the world around me started to return to my sight, a dull-ache-pain started to build up at the very base of my head. Growling in annoyance, I tried to stand, only to find that the more I moved, the more black-night-dark would come back.

With a final defiant snarl, I stabbed my soul-mind out to a nearby feather-flapper-jay. With hardly a thought, I took over its small-soul-mind, forcing it to flap to the spot of the ache-pain. Through its eyes, I could see a small-silver-blade-triangle stuck under one of my neck scales. Dried red-iron-blood surrounded the blade, staining the scales below and beside it.

Cautiously, I maneuvered the feather-flapper-jay towards the wound, positioning its claw-feet onto the handle. In one fluid motion, it flapped back, jerking the blade out from under my scale and dropping it at my feet. I could feel the red-iron-blood flowing again and the wound smarted and stung. However, what hurt the most was the sudden realization that I was alone.

I could not feel my partner-of-mind-and-heart, my other half. Never before had we been separated in such a way. Even when one shut their soul-mind to the other, we could always feel the other there. But now, there was nothing. A deep whimper-growl resonated from the back of my throat, full of red-anger and anguish.

Flicking the tip of my tail in irritation at the situation I had been inadvertently been placed in, I realized that this silver-blade-triangle had been the source of the mind-clouding-dark, through which, made me forget about Lothiriel. Standing hesitantly, I lowered my head towards the evil-magic-blade. I sniffed deeply, copious amounts of blood-stench filled my nose. But underneath, subtle hints of pointy-needle-pine, magic and point-eared-two-leg-elf.

With a look around, I found myself to be on the far east side of the Rider-dragon-island. Large slabs of gray-flat-slate-stone poked up from and covered the ground, green-yellow-grasses grew in the cracks between the sharp shards. Small puddles of iron-red-blood, both mine and others, pooled on the surface of the slate-stone. Many reeked of the elf-pine-magic-scent that had clung to the sharp-thorn-blade. Plenty more were still warm, others only slightly cooled. To one side, shallow-long-furrow-ruts had been planted into the ground, as if an object of substantial weight had been drug along. Or possibly even a single, unconscious, pointy-eared-elf.

After a few frantic moments of snuffling through the sharp-shard-broken-stone-ground, searching for more hints as to where my partner-of-soul-and-mind had been taken to, I came up with nothing. Nothing but that scent.

It led in one direction, towards the cold-moving-lake. The path it took was wandering; first here, then there, then back again. But slowly and surely it led to the sandy-scratchy-shore. There, the scent was strong, yet buried under a new, even more powerful scent. This new aroma was familiar; musky and smoky, reptilian with a hint of days old deer-roast-meat. The smell of a dragon.

*********

Moments later I found myself winging through the thin-air-wind-sky, headed towards the mainland, where I was sure these odd-Rider-dragon-abductors had taken Thiri. As I traveled through the air, my soul-mind traveled faster and farther. It expanded over the break-back-ground, across the wild-sea-lake and through the surrounding pine-tree-woods.

Simultaneously, I combed through the slight memories I had of the event. The two of us had been on a regular scouting-searching-seeing mission. After leaving the boundaries of the training-learning-center, we were ambushed by those-who-were-there-not-there; people who could be felt, but not seen. That is how we knew not of their presence. We could not see them either physically or mentally. As a group, they seemed to have jumped out of nowhere, becoming visible in midair.

Three of them had tackled Thiri off of her leather-seat-saddle, while the rest had tried to pin me down with prickly-vine-ropes which had gotten under my scales. One, cockier, or possibly braver, than the rest, had climbed up onto my back and stabbed the thorn-magic-blade under my neck scales.

The magic took effect slowly; slowly enough that I could fight off those trying to capture me as the had Thiri, although I could not remember why. Three of the seen-but-not-seen-abductors had been turned into piles of ashes, scattered as I lashed out, snapping the prickly-vine-ropes in my anger.

At that point, I had not realized that I could no longer feel my partner-of-mind-and-heart. In fact I did not seem to have one. It was as if I was a rabid-fierce-wild-dragon, rather than a Rider-bonded one. My memories of my hatching-egg-birth, training, and previous life had faded to nothing, leaving only instinct and false impressions of what had happened. As if Lothiriel had been a simple film of grime, wiped away to reveal false, shiny memories.

The others who were yet still alive, had been sliced and scratched within an inch of their puny-evil-lives. Quivering, they ran, not realizing that if they had waited only a moment longer, the dark-night-black which had, only moments ago, been at the far edges of my vision, was now fully clouding my sight. My movements, which had been quick and fluid, had become slow and drowsy. Within a few seconds, my sight-smell-hear-senses had abandoned me completely, and I laid down, sliding swiftly into unconsciousness.

I hadn’t the slightest idea of how long I was out. The fluffy-gray-rain-clouds had painted the sky a dreary gray all day long, covering the sun, and leaving no way to tell the passing-changing-time. I could only hope that it was less than an hour, else there would be little to no chance of me catching up to them, even with seven Riders, dragons and a presumably unconscious two-leg-elf.

However, there did seem to be one thing in my favor. Through my mental search of the pointy-pine-forest, I came across the impression of eight bodies, seen-not-seen, as well as my partner-of-mind-and heart. They ran swiftly and carried Thiri on their backs, leaving little trace of themselves.

Their dragons, however, were missing. All that seemed to be left of them were small dull-rock-scales, on a cow-ratty-leather-cord around their Riders’ scrawny necks; they all had one on. Odd, but not completely unheard of. Regardless, I paid little attention to it.

Without their dragons, I could both rapidly and easily overtake them, rescue Lothiriel and allow them to join their friends as piles of dust-gray-fire-ash, saturated with their own, vile blood. Grinning at the prospect, I quickened my pace, flapping ever the harder in an attempt to reach them fast as I could.

*******

I landed on the sandy-itchy-grit-shore barely fatigued. It seems sadness and anger do have their benefits. Towards the edge of the pointy-pine-forest, the gritty-itchy-sand faded to a wet, marsh-like peat.

Padding over, I could see the remains of shallow boot prints etched into the muddy-dirt-peat. Drenching the prints, was the same pine-elf-magic smell from earlier, with scents of dragon and Lothiriel layered over. Strange, as there was not a single dragon with them in their group.

Abruptly, I dove into the stark undergrowth, my claws ripping up tree-trunk-saplings and feather-leaf-ferns as I went. The prints followed a narrow path, as if built for a four-leg-river-bounder-deer. The pointy-pine-forest itself showed no sign of any unnatural movements, with the exception of my own. The muddy-peat-dirt-ground, packed firm now, from years of animal use, showed no prints, but other evidence caught my eyes.

A thin silvery hair, long and wavy, stuck to a tree trunk. Tiny flakes of dried red-iron-blood littered the well worn, narrow deer path. They all pointed eastward, towards the heart-center of the pointy-pine-forest.

As I traveled, the scents got stronger, nearer. Fire-spark-tingles appeared at the base of my neck; the signal that magic is near. My quick pace turned to breakneck, as I skimmed over the muddy-peat-dirt-ground, weaving through needle-pine-trees and rocks. At a far corner of my soul-mind, I could feel a small, one-sided connection start to establish.

Though feeble, I reached towards it with all of my consciousness, hoping to get some sort of response. Nothing happened. Not a single whisper. Disappointed, I pulled back, slowing to study my surroundings.

I was at the edge of the pointy-pine-forest. In front of my lay a hilled-flower-grass-meadow. Upon further study, the hills had multiple small, window-holes dug in the sides, as well as a large door-hole, covered by green-yellow-grasses and wildflowers. Surrounding the hilled-flower-grass-meadow, was more pointy-pine-forest, slowly encroaching on the hill-homes.

There was however, no signs of life evident in the hill-homes. They seemed dead; lifeless except for the strong reek of two-leg-point-ear-elves and four-leg-food-animals. Surrounding the hill-homes, there seemed to be a magic barrier. This conclusion was supported by the fire-spark-tingles at the base of my neck, which slowly spread over the rest of my body.

I stepped towards the flower-grass-meadow, anticipation and indignation igniting in my soul. These were the people who took my partner-of-mind-and-soul away. These, the people who broke our connection, for the sake of taking her away from me. These, the people who should die.

********

I waited for the cover of black-dark-night, before seizing the small grass-meadow-village. It was quite easy to be frank. The two guards stood no chance against the anger of a dragon. Sudden and silent, their chicken-throats were cut before they could even so much as glance at one another. I slunk into the grass-meadow-village, the hill-houses providing me with all of the cover I needed.

One thing I had noticed though, was that the dull-scale-necklaces which had been on the assaulters from the Rider-dragon-island, were on the guards as well. They seemed to be everywhere in fact. In every hill-home my soul-mind wandered into, each person had one on. Except one; Thiri.

She was in a hill-home towards the center of town. It was one of the largest. The grass-hill-mound it was built into was as large as Master-Saphira-blue-scales; much larger than me. This large-center-hill-house was also taller than every other hill-house. It towered over what seemed to be a town square, leaving large shadows, even in the dark-black-night.

This would be harder than I thought. I would have to creep my way into the center of the village, without drawing attention to myself, a large, bright purple scale-flapper-dragon.

I huffed in irritation. Settling myself into my best crouch, I crept my way around the edge of the hill-houses, sticking to the forgiving shadow of the pointy-pine-forest. Slowly, I shuffled towards the north edge of the village, stopping only when two-leg-shadows appeared on the sides of the hill-houses.

Finally, I reached the north entrance. The single guard here seemed to be drunk as a two-leg-mountain-dweller-dwarf. Drunk enough to think me friendly, and to try and pat my nose, as one would a stupid-four-legged-hound-dog. His hand did not stay attached to his stick-body for long. Neither did his head.

Placing a mental spear-probe before me, I stepped between two of the hill-houses, checking for any wandering two-leg-necklace-elves. When assured there was none, I crept up to the next hill-house and repeated the mind-sweep-process. This time, I found three, all headed towards the large-center-hill-house; towards my partner-of-mind-and-heart.

Their soul-minds were clouded, yet they knew what was to happen. It was guarded from me to begin with, but they put up no fight, nor did the even acknowledge my presence when I started to probe for information.

What I found shocked me to my core. These...these people were not even people at all! They could change skins; they were the dragons.

The dragons and Riders were not, as I thought, separate life-entities, but one, whole being. The dull-scale-necklaces, were not necklaces at all, but a small strip-graft-section of their own leathery dragon-skin, and a scale of their own. It was, apparently, the only place on them that stays true to their birth-form.

When they are born, they are dragons, hatched from stone-eggs. From the time of birth, they are placed under a spell, through some gruesome ceremony-ritual, which keeps them from changing-skins until deemed ready.

Once decided responsible, their Elders remove the birth-spell and from then on, the skin-changer-dragons can change at their every wish. Only a small skin-strip around their neck, and a sharp-scale at the base of their throat stay true to their birth-form.

I retracted from their soul-minds immediately. Tonight was the birthing-night. The night of the ceremony-ritual. Strangely enough, that was the one thought I could not access in their soul-minds. It was as if they themselves cared not if I saw what was to happen, but could not allow me to see all of their plans.

Hurriedly, I sped towards the large-center-hill-house. As I reached it, I found a processional striding across the village square, towards a large heat-fire in the center. On the backs of two chained up skin-changer-dragons, sat a litter. On top of it, there were seven slick, gray-brown, oblong stone-eggs.

As one, the group-crowd processed towards the fire in the center of the square. Leading the procession, was a large-broad-skin-changer man. Cloaked in red, his eyes gleamed in the firelight. At the foot of the heat-fire, he stopped and faced the group-crowd. At a small jerk of his head, the two carrying the litter came up to him, stopping at his feet. Comparing the three, the large-broad man was much taller than the others.

The two holding the litter trembled under his fiery gaze. Briskly, they placed the stone-eggs at his feet, before backing away like beaten dogs. In a fierce language, the fire-man exclaimed what seemed to be an incantation, as once the harsh words left his lips, the seven stone-eggs started to shake.

Slowly, cracks started to web their way across the surface of the eggs. Within the next few moments, tin, awkward, bent bodies scrambled their way out of the shattered fragment-eggs.

The fire-man barked an order, and a group of shackled old-dragon-skin-changers were brought forth. As one, they seemed to fall under a stupor-trance, swaying in time to their rhythmic chanting. As they sang-chanted, a silvery sheen appeared around the hatchlings. Their eyes glowed with a muted silver fire, their broken-branch-wings quivered before snapping open, as if to catch the warm-south-breeze.

Minutes passed, and I still hadn’t yet seen my partner-of-heart-and-mind. I could feel her somewhere, but I was stuck in place, as the fire-man glanced over in my direction. His heat-fire gaze locked onto mine. Slowly, I crawled out from my hiding spot from behind a hill-house.

Just like it started, the chant-singing stops as they all caught sight of me. Their eyes were wide, full of surprise at seeing an intruder present at their ceremony. My own eyes widened, as I see that they all had shackles around their wrists, some around the ankles. These people were servant-slaves to one of their own!

A deep, throaty laugh-chuckle broke me from my reverie. Swiveling around to face the fire-man, I found him laughing at my amazement.

“Quite efficient isn’t it? Living with them for years, then turning them into my own personal thralls. Genius!” His heat-fire-eyes glistened with pride for his own plans. “They never suspected a thing!” he crows. His voice was glaringly loud against the backdrop of the fire.

“And now, comes the crowning jewel of my plan for these puny weaklings. They who embrace their elf half, a bit too much.” Venom dripped from his words, aimed at those in the crowd.

“It is time!” he screeched, attention once again on the hatchlings. From the back of the crowd came yet another pair of shackled skin-changer-dragons. This time, they carried a body between them. It was bound head to toe, yet I could tell exactly who it was.

Spinning back around to face me yet again, the fire-man allowed the shackled villagers to set the prone form at the feet of the hatchlings.

“Do you recognize her? Do you? You should, Daenyris, dragon of Lothiriel Älfa-kona.”

I was suddenly filled with fury. There is no way he would have known who I was, unless he intruded upon her mind. Swiftly, I growled a response.

‘That is not how a halfling such as yourself should address a full-blooded dragon. As well, you have no right upon you to even speak my name, much less know it.’ A snarl punctuated the last sentence.

“I am no halfling,” he spat. “You dare accuse me of sharing blood with the weakest race!” Fury was evident in his face. Slowly the scale at his neck started to replicate, soon covering the entirety of his neck, face and chest.

He started to grow, ripping at his clothes with newly formed claws. From behind, a tail started to appear, coming out of the small of his back. Dull-brown-scales covered his changing form. Quickly, his head elongated to a more reptilian shape, soon mimicking mine in shape and size. From his shoulder blades, sail-wings started form, poking through the scales, forcing him to fall to all fours, knees and elbows inverting as he did.

Within moments, he was a fully formed dragon, bulkier and larger than me in every way. His mouth open in a frozen snarl, he started to erupt human-speech from his maw.

“Now do you think me unworthy? I have served 500 years in this form, much longer than you, youngling.”

Stunned, I was silent. I watched with a mixture of fear, awe and horror raging in the pit of my stomach-gut.

This man was crazy; the blood-life of the dragon ran through him stronger than his elf blood-life did. Finishing his spectacle, he commanded the two shackled skin-changers to unbind the seemingly unconscious Lothiriel.

As they pull the cover-hood from her head, I saw that she was completely conscious and in pain. Scratches covered her upper body, small purple bruises speckled her neck. Her eyes were clouded over, but seemed to clear slightly as she caught sight of me.

Hesitantly, I started to pad towards her, but I was stopped by the tree-trunk-tail of the fire-dragon-man.

“No,” he stated simply. “Lets see what they do. She is their first meal, they need to test their hunting prowess.”

With that, I finally understood. They captured her to feed her to their young, to test them. This was the “gruesome ceremony-ritual” I couldn’t access in the minds of the skin-changers. Cannibalism.

Horrified, I put my body into motion. Stabbing my head at the immobile tail still in front of me, I snapped my maw closed around it.

An inhuman scream-screech sounded from the fire-dragon-man. He whipped his head around to look at me, eyes filled with fury.

“You little-” I cut him off by discharging a small ball of indigo-purple fire into his open mouth. His anger changed into a look of surprise. In the corner of my eye, I noticed that all eyes were on the two of us.

Looking back, I notice he had gotten over his initial surprise-shock and has settled into a low hunt-crouch, ready to pounce. Rapidly, I scrambled back, trying to get far enough away from him that he wouldn’t crush me like one does to a four-legged-river-bounder-deer while hunting.

I flare my sail-wings, debating whether to take flight, where I have the advantage of a sleeker, faster frame, or continue to battle on the dirt-ground. My decision made, I leap up to take flight, but before I get very high up, I feel teeth-fangs sink into my tail. The weight and pull are too much, and I collapse in a heap onto the break-back-ground.

Roaring, the fire-dragon-man charges, ramming into my side, shattering some scales with the force of the impact. Some shards embedded themselves into the tender leather-skin they were protecting, and caused much more ache-pain that the initial charge did.

Snarling, I heaved myself up, tail starting to go slightly numb. My head throbbed from the fall-crash, I stumbled a few steps before regaining my center of balance.

From the fire-dragon-man, there come haughty laugh-chuckles. “Why do you even try? You have no chance! She’s not even much to fight for! They, the inferior race. Even you fullbloods are less developed than any other here, including me. Maybe we should feed you to the hatchlings instead of your puny elven friend. I’m sure that you would be delicious.” His voice was full of hatred and contempt for both races that made up his life-blood.

With that last yell-outburst of his, all of the rage and anger that had been building up inside of me burst out in a large explosion of energy. For the first time, I used the magic-energy in my life-blood that Master-Bjartskular has only talked about.

A large purple spear of pure energy blasted forth, encasing the fire-dragon-man and his loose-mouth. Slowly, he started to burn, his feet and legs first. His wide eyes were full of confusion and amazement. A deafening human-scream-shriek ripped through the air as he started to feel the pain.

Within moments, his tail and wings caught the violet fire. Soon his shriek-screams faded into whimper-cries. Seconds later, even those are silenced, as his charred bones fell to the ground, heaped up and smoldering.

At once, a loud cheer-yell came from somewhere deep within the crowd. This was taken up quickly, as they realized what this meant. No longer, did they have to feed their hatchlings those they descended from. No longer did they have to stay chained up, as if they were troublesome-four-leg-dogs. No longer did they have to live under the rule of such an insane skin-changer-man.

As soon as the heat-fire died down, I see Lothiriel, eyes clear from her drug-clouds. ‘Small one!’ I cried, the mental link finally working as it should. Our consciousnesses crashed into each other, each flooding the other’s soul-mind. Memories of our time apart were shared, mine more numerous than hers, as she was drugged for most of her time here.

I finally felt whole. For the first time, I realized how much we were connected and dependant on each other. Never had I felt so alone in my life, but now, that loneliness was gone, hopefully never to come back.

After spending a few moments together, I realized just how reluctant any of these skin-changers were to have Thiri fed to their new younglings. One such example, was their willingness to sneak food-bread into her, after it was strictly forbidden by the fire-dragon-man, whose name I learned to be Ruinë.

Simply put, these were not the blood-thirsty-evil-monsters that Ruinë was. They were a peace-loving people who were oppressed by one of their own, similar to the Riders’ own past-history. Therefore, after breaking their shackle-chains and gathering swear-oaths of peace, we left the skin-changers to their own lives, knowing with a certainty that we would not be bothered by them again.