A Dragon's Slave Ch. 07.2 Truth

"If there's no alcohol in the room, we could probably find a bar or...something. I hope."

I nod, and our search for alcohol begins, because, come to think of it, I need a drink as well.

-----Nightwing

"That still doesn't explain why you denied to tell me about any of this! Or why you flat-out lied!"

Deathwing stares at me blankly, then rolls his eyes. "I wanted to surprise you with how much everything had changed," he telepathically explains to me.

"That makes no sense!" I protest, infuriated. "Why wouldn't you just tell me so I could be prepared for coming home to a place where -" my voice trails off, and I look away from my brother, a lump forming in my throat. Damn these emotions...

A silence spans between us before he speaks up again. "Dad died."

"Finally," I grumble. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"It turns out he had placed a magical seal over draconic emotions. When he died...that seal went away. We didn't know how to deal with it - some tried to recreate the seal. But we couldn't. So we looked to our slaves, who had more experience with emotions. Some dragons decided to become human, to acclimate better. And after about a century, we managed to create the city you saw out there - for both humans and dragons."

I'm absolutely floored. A...seal? "So...you're saying that..."

"You were never a freak like he said you were. You were just immune to the spell - and he wanted complete control. So he got rid of you."

I look between Deathwing and the door at the end of the room. "So what was all that about...the Void?"

"It was true - it does increase our emotions. I just...I didn't want to tell you about the rest of it until you had seen it for yourself. I was afraid you would be unwilling to come with me if you knew..."

Silence passes before I force myself to ask what's been on my mind. "Why didn't you come to me when he died, and tell me that I wasn't a freak of a dragon?"

"Would you have wanted me to?"

"Yes - for a little more than a century I've been trying to suppress my emotions!" I cry, infuriated at the question. "I thought I was a freak - I tried my hardest to be...what I thought was normal! If you had come to me when he died, I would have..." My tail flicks in irritation. "It would have been a lot easier for me...and now, it's even more confusing, because I feel even more emotions than I did originally, and now I have to cope with that on top of what I've kept suppressed for dozens of years, and..." I trail off. I just feel...tired.

"I never came to you because I was afraid," Deathwing announces. "I thought you would blame me for your banishment...because I did nothing..."

"Exactly," I spit. "You did nothing. You stayed here, and you played house as you built a civilization."

"Partly so that you would feel welcome when I did come to get you!"

"When? In another hundred years? Once I had been killed by human hunters? You know that's what that village I burned down wanted to do - they were preparing to kill me for a reward."

"You burned down a village?" That's right - I never told him about that...

"Yes, it's...it's the village that my slave is from."

A mighty sigh escaped his maw. "Yes...your slave..." Deathwing sighs. "He is helping you, no? With your...emotions? And...other physical aspects?"

I blush and nod, embarrassed that he knows the truth.

"Good...I am glad that you are finally able to embrace your emotions. Just...be careful. Try not to grow too attached to him."

"Attached?" I scoff. "Please - I won't get attached to that dipshit..."

He nods, and his tone suddenly becomes much more serious. "When I said I did not know what he is...I lied. I know full well what that boy truly is. I just needed to determine the appropriate course of action." He levels his eyes with mine. "I wish you could stay here, and that we could finally be brother and sister - as we were meant to be, without my choices and behavior dictated by our father. But...I am afraid that you must keep moving, to meet with the boy's father."

"His father?" I ask, both befuddled and affronted by the proclamation that I have to leave. "Why his father - what's he got to do with this?"

"Peter is only half human," he reveals. "His other half...is the species that sealed away the Void millennia ago. The species that has now, for some untold reason, released it unto the world."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I announce. "I never learned draconic history, remember? Or at least...not a lot of it."

Deathwing explains what he meant, and if I could, I would turn so pale I would be white as a sheet.

"Stay the night and rest - but tomorrow, you must bring him to his father. The fate of the world may very well depend on it." He releases a sigh - something that I've never really heard another dragon do. "I wish we had been reunited under less...trying circumstances. I just want you to know that...I care for you, very much. And if I hadn't been such a fool, I would have come to you a hundred years ago."

All I do is nod. I'm still in shock from what he's told me.

Peter is...actually important. I thought we could just find a way to use his power ourselves, but because of his lineage, he's the only one that can control them...

I frown as a new - no, not a new emotion. A...recently resurfaced emotion hits me, hard.

I'm scared - but not for myself. I'm scared because this will mean that Peter will be in direct danger - and for some reason...that's the last thing I want.

"Are you alright? Your Spectrum is a maelstrom."

"I'm worried that Peter might get hurt," I reply, still confused.

"Because he's the only hope for the future?"

"No, that would be a practical fear. This...I'm just afraid that something might...happen to him. And it scares me, but...I have no idea why."

"You've grown attached. Trust me, I know what it feels like - it's confusing, and you'll find yourself...obsessing over his well-being. When he's in pain, you'll be in pain. And when he's happy...you'll be happy."

"But...why?"

"You never had someone as emotional as you to connect with," he explains. "Now...you're latching onto him."

"...It seems like I'm still more emotional than most dragons," I remark.

"You are - as are all dragons in a humanoid form. It's probably why you had a hard time pushing away your own emotions in your new form, and became attached to the first thing that ever showed you...care, I suppose."

I shake my head. "Yes, but...sometimes it's tough to stay like this. I have a century of repressed emotions that constantly surface and hit me - all because I was immune to some stupid seal..."

My tail flicks more violently this time, and I find myself resenting my father even more. My life was hell because I was unlucky enough to be immune to some dumb seal on my emotions...I had to live alone and try to force myself to feel nothing...but now, as a human dragon, I've learned that I was never really a freak - I was simply freed from magical oppression, but subjected to psychological oppression, enforced by my father, my magically sealed kin, and even myself/

"I know that all of this must be hard to take in," Deathwing informs me. "So, please - return to the room that was prepared for you, and discuss your options with the...boy. Trishka will guide you back."

I nod, and for a while, everything is just a blur. I'm trying to think of a way I can broach the topic with Peter, but at the same time, I'm also afraid. What he is...it's something that even the dragons show respect to. I don't know how this will impact our...relationship. Plus, if he knows, that side of him may very well begin to surface. If it does...I don't know how long I'll be able to control him.

I'll have to keep a close eye on him from now on. I'll need to tighten restraints, make sure we're never too far apart - I can't risk letting him loose on the world...

"Nightwing, ma'am - we've arrived."

I'm startled out of my reverie by Trishka. I nod to her, and she smiles a bit before leaving. I hope she doesn't know what Peter is...

I take a deep breath, composing myself for having to turn his entire world on its head. Again.

Hand heavy with trepidation, I open the door, and...

Raise my eyebrows in surprise. Peter and Demetra are sitting across from each other at a table, both of them focusing on pieces of paper in their hands. There appears to be an array of pieces of paper on the table, and Peter is wearing only his underwear.

"Oh, hey," Peter announces, slurring his words a bit. He reclines in his seat, holding a bottle of what appears to be...alcohol?

"Hello, Nightwing," Demetra announces. She has a little bit of...I believe it's called rosatia.

"What are you doing?" I gesture to the setup on the table they are sitting around as I close the door behind myself.

"Well, we found some alcohol," Peter begins. He pauses as he takes a sip before continuing. "And some cards. But we didn't have any mmmoney, so we decided to play-" he hiccups briefly - "strip poker!"

"Yyyep," Demetra announces. "I taught him the rules, and I've been kicking his skinny white ass."

"I bet you can't wait to see this since skinny white ass in the nude, can you?" Demetra replies with a smirk and a hearty belch.

I pinch the bridge of my nose with a sigh. "How drunk are you two?"

"Not at all," Peter protests. "This is my second beer - I'm just a bit buzzed. Demetra, too."

"Yeah, but you're a lightweight," Demetra responds. "So I'm pretty much sober after two beers."

"Buuuuulllllshit!" Peter drags out the "bull" for a bit too long, and I become impatient. Of all the times for him to decide to drink...

"Look, Peter, can we talk?"

"In a minute - I've got a...good hand," he replies, burping halfway through. "Sorry, I think this stuff is a bit carbonated..."

"Yeah, it must be - you're nursing it like a little pussy."

"Oh, you-"

"Peter. Talk. NOW." I spit a bit of fire to show that I'm serious. Peter goes pale, and nods as he puts down his cards and stands up. I lead him to the bathroom - which has apparently become our sanctum - and take a deep breath.

"You call this a good hand!?" Demetra calls from the table.

"Cheater!" Peter barks. "I was bluffing!"

"You did a shit job of it," Demetra retorts. I clench my jaw, and slam the door shut in irritation. "Alright, geeze - rude..."

"Nightwing, are you alright?" Peter asks, placing a hand on my shoulder. I immediately yank away from him, and cross my arms as I face the wall and try to determine what to say. "...Nightwing?"

"You aren't human."

"I...thought we had assumed that, what with controlling the Void and everything." I hear him approaching, and tense up, preparing to lash out if I have to. "Nightwing - did Deathwing tell you something? Do you...know what I am?"

I realize that there's only one way to say it, so I'd better say it fast. I take a deep breath, and force myself to spit it out.

"Your father is a demon."

*****

What'd you guys think? Good, bad - yes, no?

By the way, sorry if any of this is sloppy - I write on an old iPod touch. It's easier to keep it private that way. Less spying eyes on a small screen when you're on the subway killing time by writing an erotic story.

I think my priorities may be slightly flawed.

In any case, I was asked about writing battle scenes and whatnot, so I'll give you a quick rundown. (Anon who asked, I'm open to messaging, so if you want I can give you more personalized tips.)

First off, in no way am I an officiado on writing - I'm okay at best. I learned most of what I know through reading a lot - and taking a few (mandatory) classes in my freshman year of college.

However, I was asked specifically about writing conflict and battle scenes, so I'll just list off some tips:

Obviously, in text, there is a limitation to what you can portray in terms of fighting or battle - if you try to outline everything that's happening at once in a fight, it will feel slow and clunky. The best thing to do is to focus on the sensations - or at least, that's what I've gathered so far.

So, for example, if you're writing in third person (assuming protagonist is named A):

The smell of blood and sound of metal filled the air. A could hear his own heartbeat - a sound he had never really paid much attention to. But now, as his arms strain and his legs weaken against the onslaught of steel, and his own blade resonates with his very bone, he becomes very familiar with the delicate thrum that is his life.

He hears a shout - a scream. It is drowned out by the rest as he swings, blocks, and stabs - barely able to discern one face from another, or even friend from foe, as he fights for his life upon the blood-soaked grass, his feet aching as they trod on the armor and remains of the fallen.

Now, if you were to write in first person, imagine that, but a bit more personal - less removed from the inner workings of the character's mind. For example, you might include the fact that his ears ring, or his nostrils sting, or even that he has an itch on his nose that he's afraid to scratch - all of these more personal aspects can make a scene tense, funny, or give some levity and balance to a very tense moment.

Finally, with conflict: conflict and fighting are very different, because conflict usually spans a long period of time and is not limited to physicality. The best way to show conflict varies depending on what kind of conflict you're portraying - and also on how your character, or even your narrator, perceives said conflict. Something as simple as a fight over who accidentally put out the fire could have something more behind it, and it's up to you to show how that something has brought this relatively trivial matter to a head, and how it is impacting the choices of your characters.

For those of you that don't care about my advice, I understand - I'm not an expert, and I'm not a suitable replacement to a guide written by an expert or advice from an expert. But you have to pay for that, so hopefully I've given you some good, free advice.

Also, Literotica should add a blog and reply to comment function.

Anyway, see you next time - wubba lubba dub dub!!