Among The Wretched

WIP. Better-written version of the fanfic Shea x Sere, by Sarahyasmine and CreativelyUnSuRe.
Shea strolled through the sandy streets of the Scorpion den, his bright green eyes flitting from dragon to dragon, looking for potential clients. He spotted a wooden sign hanging over a hotel on the corner of the street. The sign read 'Hotel Sandbit.' Shea ran into the entrance, eagerly looking for customers. "Hello?" he called to the dragons around him. "Anyone want JEWELRY!?" his cheerful voice bounced off of the crowd of dragons in the room, SandWings, MudWings, SandWings, SkyWings and more SandWings.
Shea frowned when none of the dragons in the lobby answered him. “Are you sure?” He asked. “I…have...jewelry?” Again, no one payed him any mind. Shea sighed, ascending the stairs, when he bumped straight into a strange-looking hybrid grasping a heap of...nothing in her talons. She was stroking the air carefully, like she was holding a pet, but her delicate talons were completely empty. “Ahh...” Shea said, brushing off his scales. “Sorry about that miss.” He shot a shiny grin at the dragonet. She's probably crazy, he thought. But I can sell to her right? Plus, she's cute. “Want a necklace??” He asked, holding out one of his many golden chains. “Only a few credits!”
The dragon blinked at him, clutching the air closer to her chest. A lithe and handsome SandWing descended the stairs behind her, calling her name. "Droplet," he growled. "Get going." The hybrid nodded, and left with him back to the lobby. Shea sighed. “I knew it,” he whispered under his breath. “Just a crazy dragonet with no money.” Shea trudged back down the stairs, his talons thudding heavily on the wood. He turned around to try and cheer himself up, winking at Droplet, as well as the other dragon following behind her. “See ya later, cutie.” He skipped out the door, grinning to himself as he tried to think of his next destination.
As Shea walked through the market, looking for more dragons he could sell shiny things to, he heard yelling, and what sounded like a fight breaking out. He rushed through the crowd, towards the noises, and broke out in the middle of a wide circle of dragons. Mirage, his master, was in the middle, and she was under attack—An assassin wearing a large cloak and hood was on top of her, digging her talons straight into Mirage’s wing joints. “Mirage!” Shea yelled, launching himself at the foreboding assassin.
The assassin whipped around, her claws digging into Mirage's shoulders, her back claws pinning Mirage's wings to her body, but she narrowed her eyes. "Great, another one," she said sarcastically, but then paused. "Hmmmm...why not?" Instantly, she seized two knives from her cloak, and threw them, one after another right at the new dragon, but she hesitated in leaping off Mirage's back. Somehow this was her chance, and she needed to take it.
“AHHH AHHH AAAHHHH!” Shea screamed, dodging the knives by a hair. “What the HOLY VIPERS!!” He gasped, frozen for a second, before coming to his senses. He yanked the daggers out of the ground and thought he would throw them, before he realized what a stupid idea that was. He might hit Mirage. His aim was terrible. “Ahh...” he said, holding a knife out in front of him. “Is ANYONE in this crowd going to back me up here??” He yelled. “I HAVE FREE JEWELRY!!”
Shea gulped when no one in the crowd responded. Mirage continued to roar in pain, twisting her neck to snap at the dragon’s claws. The assassin paid his heroic act no more attention, and laughed joyfully as she dug her claws deeper into the Outclaw’s flesh. Ahhhhhh Shea thought to himself. What do I DO?! He grimaced, and slid a dagger into the pouch of brooches hanging around his neck. Shea firmly shoved his way through the silent and awestruck crowd, sprinting to find any dragons that could help.
Shea bolted through an alley, past a small oasis and ended up in a dark and dingy sort of marketplace. He spotted a pair of tough-looking dragons conversing quietly, partly hidden in the shadows from a wall, and ran up to them at once. They looked sketchy, but Shea didn't care, as long as they could help. They were both SandWings; one was burly looking, with brown scales, and the other was a slender, attractive female with a pouch of weapons around her neck. 
Sere bristled her tail barb as Razor muttered to her, ready if danger tried to show itself. She resumed a tough expression and wordlessly watched Razor speak. Suddenly, a beautiful dragon, the same one next to Mirage earlier, run up to her. “Help...” he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. “My...Outclaw...Mirage!” He gasped, his wings drooping. “She needs help! Please!” Sere froze, unsure of what to do. The Outclaws were her enemies, but she also knew that without Mirage, the Scorpion Den would fall into the darkness of crime. The Outclaws kept the city semi-habitable after all, so, without thinking, she looked towards Razor and rose her voice. "Where?”
Shea sighed with relief, glad this pretty dragon wanted to help. “By the...by the food market,” he wheezed. “Back there!” he said, gesturing towards the direction he had come from. “Please…” 
(EDITING BOOKMARK) 
Sere lifted away and followed Razor and the hybrid over to the marketplace, where a crowd had formed a space around the two. A large NightWing was fighting her, digging her claws into her wing membranes. She spun around, looking for things she could do. Create a distraction... She thought, her thoughts spinning in the mayhem. The NightWing is big, I can't overpower him on my own. She whipped her tail, creating a whiplash sound that echoed a bit through the empty buildings. I think I know what to do.
Turning to the Nightwing, she landed on the ground next to him and turned to the nearest shop. Grabbing a ceramic jar, she threw it on the ground, shattering it and sending shards into his wings. She did this again and again, wincing as the shards cut into her shoulders and arms. Grabbing a particular wicked-looking shard, she leaped onto his back and stabbed it through the weak spot on his tail.
Shea watched as the kind dragon stabbed her pottery shard into the other dragon. The assassin roared so loud the buildings around them seemed to shake. He nervously darted around, watching Mirage out of the corner of his eye, hoping she’d be alright.
Sere was thrown off of the Nightwing's tail, and fell hard into the pottery shards. She winced as she stood, shaking off the sharp pieces from her wing, leaving tiny bleeding cuts.
Shea ran over to Sere like lightning, kneeling down besides her to examine her cuts. “Are you alright?” He asked worriedly, glancing around at the fighting dragons.
Sere ducked her head as Shea came over. She nodded. "Thanks," she replied, shaking the last out of her wing. She turned towards the Nightwing, who had recovered, and was returning to Mirage. She shot the dragon a smile.
Shea blushed, fiddling with his earrings. “I didn’t get your name,” he said to the SandWing. He couldn’t tell what kind of dragon she was... but she seemed nice.
Sere watched from a distance as Mirage flung herself at her attacker, pinning her with her talons, and slashing at her wings. The crowd surrounding the fighters was starting to disperse, though some were still gawking. 
Sere blushed also, and decided to be honest. "My name's Sere." She hesitated a bit, ducking her head before looking back at Mirage. "And you?”
Shea grinned despite himself. “I’m Shea,” he said. Yeesh! He thought to himself, I’ve lost my touch today. Shea straightened and returned his attention to the pressing matter at hand (ahh, talon??)—the battle.
Sere nodded, and muttered "Nice to meet you," before turning towards Mirage, who was grappling with Sandstorm. Razor held his barb up to Sandstorm's neck, and threatened her. Sere watched, ready to help him, but also realized how exposed she was. Her wings twitched, wanting to both fly away and fly towards the fight.
Sere noticed Razor's expression, and immediately threw herself in the air. Scolding her gut reaction, she touched down again, and walked over to him, ducking her head in guilt. "Are you an Outclaw?" She asked.
Shea watched Sere and the other dragon out of the corner of his eye, his heart sinking. She likes him, doesn’t she, he thought to himself, then immediately felt bad for thinking it. The fight got bigger, a bossy looking dragon trying to break it up.
Sandstorm rolled her eyes, casually reaching out, grabbing Razor’s barbed tail and brushing it away from her. She looked up at Mirage, smirking as she stared into the Outclaw’s eyes, ignoring the dragon trying to break it up. This was too rich to let go!
“Yeah but by that time I would have been paid handsomely enough to be on the other side of the continent.” She laughed a high, genuine laugh, her tongue flicking out from beer her hood as she observed Mirage will calculating eyes. “And even if they tried to kill me, I could kill them first.”
Shea gulped at the assassin’s menacing words. He stepped forward, cursing to himself all the reasons he shouldn’t. “Don’t talk to Mirage like that,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “She could kill you with one swipe of her talon. Um, and she’s the greatest leader that’s ever lived?” He added, like Mirage always told him to.
Sere trotted back a few steps, unsure of what to do. She tapped her talons on the earth in worry, and watched as Mirage and Sandstorm went back and forth, Razor and Shea stepping in.
"Are you sure about that?" Mirage growled, lifting her tail so that it hovered mere inches within striking range of the hand (foot? paw?) holding the knife against her throat. "I know plenty of your tricks. And I see the uncertainty in your eyes.”
Sandstorm smiled sweetly, trying to burn all traces of "uncertainty" out of her face. She lifted her tail, snaking it around and waved it at Mirage in a strangely friendly way. 
"So you let me go." She said smoothly. "And no one, especially oh wonderful, oh magical, leader of the Outclaws," Her voice went slightly snarky at that. "Has to get hurt." She paused. "Until next time.”
"No chance of that happening, assassin," Mirage coldly assured her. "You're getting thrown into Queen Thorn's dungeon, right now." She lowered her tail and swept it in the sand in three wide arcs, signaling any nearby Outclaws to come and help arrest Sandstorm.
Sandstorm nodded gently, her eyes narrowing as she relaxed, looking comfortable. 
"I thought that might happen." She said smoothly, then suddenly, she let go of the knife, letting it fall, knocked Mirage's chakram off her neck, caught the knife, and placed it back in her cloak. Her tail at the same moment wrapped around Mirage's ankle and yanked, and she surged upward, kicking Mirage in the chest, knocking the large SandWing off of her. She rose in the air, her black cloak swirling around her talons, before thumping back down.
Sere had a sickening feeling in her stomach. Queen Thorn was fair, but she certainly wouldn't be empathetic towards someone who had tried to kill the Outclaw leader. She backed up a few steps more, unfurling her wings to bolt when the situation came out of Mirage's control. Panic rose within her, and Sere visibly struggled to keep from fleeing. One thing that was certain within the realm of crime in the Scorpion Den: there are two types of outlaws; those who kill to survive, and those who kill for the fun of it. Sere wasn't sure which Sandstorm was anymore. And that made her dangerous.
Sere, unable to suppress her instinct to flee, spread her wings and darted out of the scene, glancing back every now and then to make sure she wasn't being followed. She flew a safe distance away, and hovered, still watching the fight.
Seeing the assassin swing her tail towards Mirage's throat, Sere had one coherent thought. She is going to die. Then, another. She'll probably kill Shea, Razor and I as well, for helping Mirage. Her fear kicked in, but this time, it was accompanied by fury. I can't let her hurt me. I won't let her hurt me. 
Sere flew back towards Sandstorm, at full speed, and dove at her, trying to knock the knife out of her talons. She felt the knife graze along her arm as she grasped for it, a delicate line laced with pain. She fell beside Mirage, holding her forearm and groaning to herself. Why, oh why did I do that? I could've escaped. But now I'm injured, though not badly. She slowly rose to her feet.
Sandstorm yelped as she ducked the chakram, but it bounced painfully off her wing membrane, and she hissed, grabbing another smoke bomb, throwing right into Mirage's face. She dove at the dragoness again, clawing at her eyes angrily.
"Just let me kill you!" She yelled. "Be a good leader! Don't drag anymore Outclaws into this! No one else has to get hurt!”
Mirage stared down at Sere. "Brave dragon," she murmured. "And a rather dumb one, I might say." she added angrily. "Get up, get up! I don't want any more dragons to die under my watched.”
Sere hissed despite herself, feeling a flash of anger at Mirage's response. She slid out of the way, throwing herself in the air haphazardly, and flying away again, stopping to rest on a rooftop, still watching the fight.
Sere examined the cut. It was long and twisting across her forearm, and burned with pain. She took some of the ash off of her face and rubbed it in the cut, hoping to stop the pain, or slow it. It accomplished nothing. She sat, her anger fading at Mirage and her fear returning. What was she doing here? She was a criminal herself, and after they arrested Sandstorm, she would be next. Sere shook her head in disgust at herself, but didn't fly away as she watched Razor jump in to defend Mirage.
Shea cursed at himself for being unable to move this whole time. He watched with fear as Sere jumped in the fight, and winced with pain as she was sliced on her forearm. That was it for Shea. “AHHH!” He yelled, running into the fight, yelling at the assassin. “You’re not hurting any more dragons today!” He yanked the dagger out of his neck pouch and stabbed it right into Sandstorm’s tail—-but he missed.
Sandstorm yelped as the knife plunged into the ground. She sighed.
“You are all so mean.” She said in a mocking, whining voice. “Don’t make me kill you too!” She sighed and yanked out a vial of strange black liquid. She sighed. I only have two of these, is it worth it? She shrugged. Let them see how dangerous it is. She quickly uncorked the vial, ridding it onto the ground. At the same time she skit a spark from her mouth, and the black liquid seemed to explode in a huge fireball. She ducked and rolled, pulling her cloak around herself, but a bit of the black gas/liquid landed on her tail, and it hurt so bad. She winced, gritting her teeth.
Shea gasped, clutching at his throat as a sort of black gas enveloped his body. Why am I so STUPID??!! He thought, and that’s when he passed out.
Sere saw the explosion first, the outwards energy of the blast shooting across the sky. Horrified, she started to fly down, but stopped once a searing pain shot through her shoulder. The smoke was turning into little droplets that burned. She retreated further away, having one droplet on her shoulder and two on her wings. She did her best to ignore the pain, and thought of a solution. Shea is still in there, as well as Mirage and Razor. She looked around the plaza and grabbed a rug draping off of a store front, deserted when the fight started. She grabbed two more, wrapping them around her shoulders and horns, and wearing one as a mask. She staggered into the smoke, blinking rapidly, hearing the gentle hissing of the poison as it slowly burnt away at the rugs. She saw a dragon laying on the ground, mostly below the smoke cloud, breathing shallowly. Shea! Sere trotted over to him and nudged him, trying to get him to stir. She spotted other dragons, and nudged each of them in turn. Going back to Shea, she nudged him harder.
Shea blinked, his eyes opening slowly. He faintly saw a blurry face above him, covered with some kind of cloth. “Sere...” he grinned, rainbows dancing around in his vision. “Whazzup?”
And then the pain hit. He had no apparent injuries, but small droplets of venom had sunk under his scales, and a terrible burning sensation covered his body.
Sere started to panic. "Shea, you need to get out. Mirage and Razor are still in here." She unwrapped the blanket around her wings and wound it around his snout. She screamed as the venom trickled inside her scales. Still screaming, she ran out of the cloud and looked wildly around for another rug. Ignoring the dragons yelling at her angrily, she snatched one off a clothes line and wrapped it back around her wings. It felt like she was burning from the inside out. She staggered back into the venom cloud, and unkindly hoisted Shea up. He was too heavy for her, and she dropped him almost immediately. She whacked him with her tail and pointed to the edge of the venom cloud, her vision growing hazy from the pain.
Shea gasped, then rolled over coughing. Sere had left the circle, and he had no idea where she had gone. He forced himself to roll over, his wings clenching painfully. Shea crawled towards the outer rim of the circle, breathing heavily. Mirage... he thought worriedly. She’s probably dead by now. Shea tried to keep himself from crying as he heard quiet yelling behind him.
Sere grabbed Shea's tail, not caring right then if she hurt him. She pulled with bursts of panicked strength. He's much stronger than me, she thought. Maybe he can help. Colored dots started to buzz around the edges of her vision. She blinked them away. With one last might heave, Sere dragged Shea into the open, then collapsed, pain making her head fuzzy. With a few breaths, she was up again, limping this time, and ran back into the cloud to find Mirage.
Shea felt Sere tugging on his tail. “Ouch...” he moaned, but tightened himself and tried to heave his body backwards. Eventually they reached the outside of the circle and Shea collapsed. Sere ran back inside the circle, probably to find Mirage. “No!” Shea yelled. “You can’t go in there!” And then he doubled over, coughing.
Sere saw another dragon (Little) dragging out what looked like Mirage's body. Sere clawed her way back out of the cloud, following them. When she got out of the venom, she collapsed again, her vision wavering. She looked at the dragon, her throat too dry and scratchy to speak. She tried to notion back into the circle. Razor is still in there. She nudged her tail that way, stabbing the air. Razor isn't out yet.
Shea heard commotion on the other side of the circle, through the black mist. Mirage is okay, isn’t she... he thought. Isn’t she?
Sere heard Little's screams, and that gave her a burst of energy. She lifted her head from the earth and looked at the disintegrating venom cloud. It was thinner now, and Sere staggered back in, finding Razor and nudging him to revive him. She tried pushing him with her wings, but nothing moved him. Sere attempted one last time before the venom pushed her out. New drops had landed on her wings and tail, causing them to burn.
Sere looked around, gaze sliding over Shea, Mirage and Razor. She sighed in relief. Everyone was safe. Now, she could rest.
Shea coughed, squinting through the settling black smoke. He could just make out a large group of huddling dragons on the other side, some of them not moving. “Mirage! Sere!” He yelled, crawling around the smoke to the other dragons. “Are you guys... okay?” He swallowed. Everyone seemed slightly injured, but Mirage was lying on the sand, unconscious.
Sere raised her head from the position on the sand, her face a weary picture of alarm. She coughed, and ran her tongue along her mouth, but still couldn't speak. She laid back down as an onslaught of pain rushed towards her head. The droplets of venom had stopped sinking into her scales, but they still hurt. Badly. Sere turned towards Little and tried to nod her thanks for saving Mirage.
Sere smiled at Little again, hearing her mutter, "Not good," she blinked away the dots in her vision, trying to do a self-inspection. Nothing was broken; the main concern were the tiny drops of poison that felt like fire all over her body. She tried to focus. About five droplets on her wings, two on her tail, and three on her shoulders. Based on what she could feel, each one was the size of each of her scales.
Shea shook Mirage, watching Sere out of the corner of his eye. “Mirage! He yelled. WAKE UP!” He shook her harder, until a kind little dragon moved him away, saying that he would hurt her.
Shea turned to Sere, who was blinking the light out of her eyes groggily. “What happened in there?” He asked, more worried then he had ever been in his life.
Sere blinked at Shea, slowly processing his question. "Oh," she said, then shook her head dazedly as her voice cracked. "Well, Sandstorm threw a venom bomb, which created the black smoke that turned to venom drops. Um, as you know. The initial explosion probably threw you guys to the ground, but I was farther away. I wrapped myself in rugs," she explained, motioning to the scraps of disintegrating fabric on the ground, "And helped you out. The dragon over there saved Mirage, and I'm not sure what happened to Razor, but I think he's out too." Her voice was scratchy and it hurt so much to talk. She laid her head on the cool earth and closed her eyes.
She nodded to Sere and Shea. "Need any help with the wounds?" Her voice was a bit calmer now. Time to time, she would glance at Mirage hopefully.
Shea groaned, lying down next to Sere. “No thanks,” he said to the little dragon. “Please just focus on Mirage.” Shea glanced over at Sere. Even when she was injured, ash and venom covering her scales, Shea thought she was cute. She wrinkled his eyebrows and shook his head, reminding himself that he didn’t even know who she was. I need to focus on recovering anyway, He thought. And helping mirage. Shea really hoped Sere hadn’t seen his embarrassed face.
Sere thought about Little's offer. She nodded, her throat burning. "I'm not sure if you can do anything," she said, "But if you can, try," She asked. Then, hearing Shea's response, she furrowed her brow. "I mean," she coughed, then frowned apologetically. "Focus on Mirage. I'm fine,”
"Okay. But first, I need to clean the ash off of Sere." She walked over to them and started taking bits of ash off Sere, being very careful not to hurt her in any way. "There." She dusted her palms off. "Let me focus on Mirage now. Tell me when you need anything!”
Shea smiled weakly at Sere’s response to the little dragon.
Sere nodded, taking a small bit of joy in the removal of the itchy ash on her scales. She closed her eyes, releasing the tension in her wings and resting.
“Sere!” Shea yelled suddenly. “Your friend is awake!” Shea pointed to the other side of the circle.
Little rushed to the nearest shop filled with food. She grabbed some and dashed back to Mirage and Sere. This is a special kind of fruit, Her mother's voice rang in her head as she sat next to Mirage. It is used to help burning throat from ash and flammable venom. She gasped. This could help Sere's throat! She turned to Sere. "Eat this. Please. It'll help your throat." She said, eyes sparkling with hope.
Sere opened her eyes, and looked towards where Shea was pointing. Razor had struggled up, and was looking for Mirage. Once he saw her, he was visibly relieved, and laid back down. "Thanks, Shea," she whispered, then scooted closer. "Wait, are you guys Outclaws?" she asked, a bit louder.
Shea looked over at the dragon. She was trying to feed Sere a sort of purplish fruit that was spiked around the top. “Eat this. Please,” he heard her saying. “It’ll help your throat.” Shea groaned quietly, hoping the dragon could hear him. “May I...?” He whispered, his voice hoarse.
Little turned to him. "Y-yes." She handed him the fruit. "I-i'm Little by the way, if you ever have wounds, I'm here.”
Shea smiles weakly up at the dragon. “Thanks, little.” He said. “Wait, are you guys outclaws?!” Sere said. Shea looked over at her, and could tell immediately that she must have been an Outclaw enemy. Then why did she help Mirage? He thought. “Not really,” he answered weakly. “I’m Mirage’s assistant, but I’m normally just a...just a sales dragon.” Shea flopped down on the ground again, realizing how unimportant he was.
Sere sat up, wincing as it sent another bolt of pain through her. She accepted the fruit with a nod, ignoring it's appearance. She chewed thoughtfully, closing her eyes in relief as juice dribbled down her throat, making it feel less scratchy. She heard the dragon say her name to Shea. "Thank you, Little," she said.
"I'm not an Outclaw, just a normal dragon living here. And Sere, you're welcome." She smiled.
Shea chewed on the fruit ruefully, his nose squishing up at its slightly bitter—but sweet taste.
"I'd like to know, if Mirage dies, who's the leader of the Outclaws now?" She asked curiously. She looked at Mirage and frowned slightly.
Shea shook his head with concern. “No.” He said. “We won’t need a new leader, because she’s not going to die.”
"I'm only concerned if she does. She was in the cloud for way too long." She sat by Mirage's side and tried to patch up her wounds.
Sere nodded, and saw the question in the look that Shea gave her. "I helped Mirage and you because Mirage is the only dragon keeping the assassins from running the city." She laughed weakly. "I'm not the best of friends with the assassins, so that would be pretty bad." She looked at Shea, admiring his loyalty.
Shea laughed. “I’m not the best of friends with the assassins either.” He said. “They’ve tried to kill Mirage way to many times.”
Shea rested his head on his talons. He looked over at Sere again, hoping she wouldn't notice. He liked looking at her for some reason, but he couldn't figure out why.
Sere struggled to sit up, slightly swaying as pain rushed to her shoulders, the droplets of venom still burning. She watched Little walk around Mirage, trying to revive her, but Sere already knew that it was too late. A sinking feeling in her chest, she called towards Little. "I don't think there is anything else you can do," she said quietly, not believing it herself. Shock and confusion were the only things she felt. "Mirage is dead.”
Shea gasped when he heard the words come out of Sere's mouth. "No..." he said. "That--that's not possible." Shea swallowed, burying his head in his talons, trying not to cry. We don't have a leader now, he thought. Everything's going to fall apart.
Sere grounded herself. Focus on the living, she reminded herself. Hearing Shea's panicked gasp, she glanced over at him, burying his snout into his talons with despair. She slid over to him and tented a wing over him, comforting him. She tried to contain her thoughts. Mirage is dead. Unless someone steps up, by tomorrow, the assassins will be in power. Then, her survival instinct. I should do my heist now. 'But Shea may need me. Wait for a bit. Sere thought.
Shea felt warmth sweep over him as Sere slid her wing over his back to comfort him. He liked the feel of her scales, soft and reassuring. Suddenly Shea was hit with a distant memory of his mother, a smile, the touch of talons--and then it was gone. He shivered, wishing he could remember more of her. Shea's parents had died when he was only a newborn dragonet--he had never known them, but the Outclaws had taken him in and raised him for the most part ever since.
"Thank you," She said, looking over at Sere. He detected something different behind her eyes--as if she had somewhere to go, something to do. Shea looked back down at his talons. He had such an overwhelming feeling that Sere was some kind of criminal, but his heart told him she was, underneath everything, a good dragon. Shea sighed sadly.
Sere nodded, seeing emotions pass over his snout. She kept her wing over him, not wanting to disturb his thoughts. Razor and Little were still alive, and she sensed them nearby, but right then, she wanted to help Shea.
Sere nodded and withdrew her wing, following Shea over to Little and Razor. She avoided looking at Mirage's body, and focused instead on Shea's graceful wings and Little's reaction. She stopped a little ways away from Little, who was still crouched over Mirage (I assume?) and looked at her with a worried expression.
Sere saw Little rise, and walk into a corner, her wings drooping. Sere carefully walked over to her, slowly sitting down and looking at her. After a slight pause, she ruffled her wings, and said, "Thank you, Little." She nodded and looked back into the daylight, where Razor was still standing around her. 
"You're welcome. I just wish I had done more to save Mirage." She said. 
Sere turned back. "You did everything you could. Thank you," she paused again. "Do you know of any "second-in-command" outclaws that could take over the job?”
"No. Nobody's ever told me, though." She said, shrugging. 
Sere nodded, thinking. Do your heist now. The Outclaws need time to regroup. They won't catch you. The other half of her disagreed. Stay. Help Shea, Little, and Razor. She clutched her head with her talons, taking a deep breath. She looked back at Little. "Thanks anyways. Do you have somewhere to go after this?” 
"I'm mostly going to stay here, help out other dragons, and maybe make new friends." Little smiled. She looked at the body of Mirage once more and turned back to Sere. "What about you. Do you have somewhere to go after this?" She asked.
Sere nodded. "Yeah, thanks." She replied, not elaborating. "Now what?" she asked, chuckling softly, despite herself.
Little walked away from her conversation, looking at the ground. She didn't know that Razor was in front of her, and Little bumped into him. "Sorry! Are you okay?" She asked, shaking her head.
Shea groaned, smoothly stretching his wings as far as they could go--which was really far, thanks to his half-SkyWing heritage. He looked around. Sere was looking worried, possibly a little irritated as if she had to be somewhere soon, Little and Razor were...apologizing to eachother? And Mirage...well, Mirage lay dead as a doornail on the rough, coarse sand. Shea choaked out a little cry of despair. What was going to happen to him now? He had no idea where his home was now--and the Outclaws desperately needed a new leader. Shea paused. Maybe General Sumac would be up for the job, he thought. He's always been a kind and headstrong Outclaw. Shea softly padded over to the others to tell them what he thought. 
Sere looked up at Shea walked over, so silently she barely noticed him. She gave him a weary smile, and tilted her head. He looked like he wanted to say something.
"Hey guys!" Shea said, trying to use his usual flirty, cheery voice but failing, "I think there may be someone we can nominate as Outclaw leader. His name's General Sumac.” 
Sere lifted her head at Shea's idea. She smiled at him, a real smile this time. "That's a good idea," she said, nodding. "Does he know about the, um, situation?" She asked, noticing the sadness underneath Shea's voice.
"No," Shea replied, ducking his head sadly. "I don't think so." Just then, a SandWing messenger came darting through the market towards them. "Hello!?" he yelled. "Mirage? Has anyone seen Mirage!? I have urgent..." the messenger faltered when he saw the Outclaw leader spread-eagled on the sand. "Is that...?" he asked. Shea wiped away a tear trailing down his cheek. "Yes." he replied. "What's the news?" he asked. 
The messenger gulped. "Mirage's second-in-command was murdered." Shea's eyes widened. "General Sumac is dead.”  
Sere felt her blood freeze inside of her. Mirage and General Sumac.... both dead? Fear welled up within her, and her heart started beating faster then ever. She grabbed the messenger. "Find the third in command. Or fourth, or fifth!" She started to wail slightly. "Find someone! The Scorpion Den without the Outclaws is certain death for dragons like me!" She shook him slightly, before letting him go and slinking back into the shadows to process the information.
Little turned her head. "General Sumac? DEAD? No, it can't be!" She wailed.
Shea turned to little and out his ginormous wing over her. "Have the Outclaws elected a new leader?" he asked the messenger.
"They don't know Mirage is dead." he replied. "But I suppose the third-in-command is leader now--General Mesa." 
Shea nodded. "What happened with Sumac?" he asked worriedly. "He was found with his chest open behind the meeting tent," the messenger responded. "One of his claws was gone, and an unidentified SandWing was splayed out next to him, as if they had fought to the death. We still don't understand the missing claw though.”
Little smiled as Shea put his wing around her. She looked at the messenger with worried eyes. "Hopefully General Mesa doesn't die as well." She told him.
Shea sighed, turning to Sere, who was panicking in the shadows of a nearby building. "Sere," he said. "The messenger has just gone back to the Outclaw tent to elect Mesa as the new general. Don't worry," Shea tilted his head at her, his green eyes filled with worry. he put his wing over her. "Everything's going to be okay.”
Razor just is standing there listening but not really feeling like he was in the conversation. Which is good beause I'm not one of them. I'm an outclaw. But why are they making a decision for the outclaw and then also me? Shouldn't the outclaws decide? And why is Sere so focused on a new leader? He thought. The conflicting thoughts spun around in his head and he felt slightly nauseous. He curled and uncurled his tail as he thought.
Sere felt Shea's wing drape over her, and she felt so grateful in that moment. His wing was large and comforting. She listened, calming down as Shea discussed with the messenger other options for leadership. Little and Razor were listening intently too, and she tapped her talons thoughtfully on the ground. She looked back at Shea, realizing he was speaking to her.
"Everything is going to be okay," he said gently.
Sere let out a breath, giving him a small smile. "Okay." she said. "Sorry about my reaction." She hesitated, then added, "Thanks.”
Shea smiled down at Sere. Here he was, in the middle of a small crisis, and this wonderful dragon he didn't even know was lighting his heart up like a wildfire, making him feel all warm and fuzzy. What is happening to me? he thought. I hope I don't have a fever. Shea rubbed his dizzy head worriedly.
Sere didn't know how long she spent under Shea's wing. At some point, the minutes seemed to blur together. Eventually, Sere watched the messenger fly away to tell Mesa about her new status, and Little and Razor just kept talking. As the sun split open the night sky, Sere blinked, coming back into the moment. Everything came crashing down; all the events from the previous day, the small venom wounds that still ached, and the messenger's horrible news. She cleared her throat and spoke. "Now what?”
Shea blinked the morning sun out of his eyes as Sere woke him up saying "Now what?" Shea looked over and blushed, realizing he had slept the whole night with his wing over her. "I don't know," he answered, gently lifting his wing off and srtetching them both to the sky. And then the realization hit that Sere probably meant Now what as in I'll probably never see you again. Shea's wings drooped as he stared at the orange horizon.
Sere thought about his answer. She frowned, before brightening again. "Um, is there anything you need help with?" she asked, secretly hoping to spend more time with Shea.
Shea was a little surprised by Sere's answer. He had expected her to say she had business elsewhere, or that she had to leave. Shea grinned, despite the nearby image of dragons loading Sere's body into a cart and lugging it away. "I still have all this jewelry left to sell!" he said half-jokingly, lifting up one of the necklaces around his neck. 
Sere nodded. "Okay," she said, glancing back at Little and Razor. The necklaces looked beautiful... and expensive. Sere immediately shut down that thought process. I am not going to steal from Shea! She scolded herself before turning back to him. "Yeah, I guess I could help with that.”
Shea grinned. He hadn't really expected Sere to say yes. When he noticed the way she looked at his jewelry, as if it could buy her a lot, he immediately felt bad, then felt bad for feeling bad. Shea lifted a thin-chained gold necklace inlaid with a ruby teardrop off of his head and slid it around Sere's neck. His heart fluttered when their scales brushed for a moment, but Shea tried to shake that away as he clasped the end of the necklace closed. Stinkbug is going to be so mad at me, he thought. But honestly, who cares? Shea smiled when he saw the necklace on Sere. He thought the red contrasted prettily with her sandy-colored scales and brown acccents.
Sere widened her eyes as Shea gave her the necklace, blushing a bit and shaking her head. "Shea, I can't take this." She insisted, fumbling with the ruby. "I mean, I appreciate it, thank you, but still.”
Shea tilted his head. "Why?" he asked. "I though it would look good on you." He looked down, taloning (fingering?) the bracelets on his wrists. "But it's okay if you don't want it.”
Sere blushed at his comment, looking down at the pendant. "I can't afford it, besides, you have to make a living too." She ducked her head a bit. "Thank you, though. It means a lot, Shea.”
"You don't have to afford it," Shea said politely. "It's a gift." he smiled at her. "Besides, I'll be fine. Money doesn't matter to me very much anyway.”
Sere blushed again, trying and failing to squash her smile. "Thank you so much!" She said, beaming at him. Then, quieter. "If you want company while selling the rest, I don't really have plans." Well, I did. Sere thought. But thanks to Shea's kindness, I won't have to do my heist anymore!
Category:Fanfictions (Completed)
Category:Fanfictions (Canon)
Category:Content (Sarahyasmine)