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The room was a wooden brown, much like most of the rest of this building.

It was a wide and long room within the Union Warriors Building. Whitish sheets to lofted beds of varying sizes to accommodate the weight and frame of humans and dragons lied in an organized fashion all along the left and right sides of what felt like the mouth of some sort of creature larger than any drake in all of existence. Some of those beds were unfortunately filled with some occupants of varying injuries. Some minor and insignificant, while others were life-threatening. Thankfully, they were receiving well-earned rest or treatment while immobile within the Medical Wing of the facility.

God bless them…

Fighting the good fight when they could have easily lived calm and carefree lives as citizens. These people were willing to give it their all in the name of peace and happiness the Union so valued, even if they would lose their lives or end up incomplete for all of eternity.

In the middle of the long-winded room with golden windows of a slowly darkening world nearly overtaken by the Moon on each side of the place and seemingly in between each of the beds was several thin and rectangular tables with chairs.

These pieces of furniture were for one-site diagnostics for injuries and new scars sustained, whether physical or mental.

In some far-off room somewhere connected to this one was a few rooms that were incredibly sterilized and in the color of a dull and lifeless grey. There was purpose in the horrible iron smells and sounds of flesh within those chambers that nobody ever wishes to ever be forced into, as those were the rooms where the medical professionals performed surgeries.

Brian hoped to never see those rooms in his entire existence.

He sat on a flat wooden stool. There was nothing special about it in the slightest.

His upper half was completely bare of any clothing, with only his necklaces of his cross and Bahamut on him. He had a lot of nasty looking scars, especially of a young man of his age. Some were small and barely noticeable, while others were massive and traveled up his back or across his well-toned and strength-trained body and chest, reminders of battles gone past.

In the lower part of his body, there was some rather big spots of darkened blue with a large amount of black. While it was actually in three fat lines on his stomach, it meshed together so much, that it just seemed like a big blob of broken veins and arteries.

Currently, a medic was inspecting him like some prized catch from some nameless lake somewhere. They wore a greyish lab coat with buttons, pockets, and all. On their sleeve was a white band with the red cross of those that dedicate their lives for the inner and outer well-being of others. The pants they wore were also a grey, with blackened shoes that could easily blend in with the darkness if somebody wanted that. They had brown hair and wore rounded glasses as well.

The man was currently looking around him with a clipboard in his left hand for notes and observation, with a pencil, an invention of the Union, in their right one.

Brian was restless. He didn't want to be admired like some toy by people when they knew he just wanted to leave. His injuries were not awful at all. The only reason he was here was because the Medical Wing looked at all points of pain, regardless if they were pushovers or left somebody in mortal danger.

And worst of all, he wasn't doing anything at all.

Brian hated when he had to just sit around and just do nothing. His brain was always working, always hungry in any capacity possible. So even though he had a lot to think about, he would rather do anything but look at the past few hours. The thoughts of Blaze just made him feel legitimately awful. This ultimately left Brian in a mindless state of annoyance. When he had nothing happening or things to do, he easily grew bored. This easily left him feeling drowsy through no fault of his own, along with the coming of a headache if this continued for an extended amount of time.

As Brian described, after this point, he would consider himself insane. Those that knew him knew he didn't actually mean it literally, but they got the hint very quickly that he would rather do anything than nothing unless they wanted to see an incredibly irritable human that was the equivalent of a powder keg wanting to burst into flames.

He the look of impatience on his face as he awaited the medic to just say something, anything.

Boredom was his mortal enemy here, and he didn't want them to win.

He just looked around aimlessly, attempting to have his mind latch onto anything of interest, only to fail once he recognized that the whole room looked like that. He kept shifting his legs and sometimes putting one over the other just to stave off boredom like a plague. He kept feeling his own white woolen pants covering his two legs in desperation. He would try to play with his sword in its sheath still attached to the belt keeping his pants from falling down if he wasn't in a medical facility. Even he knew that the idea was a horrible one given the people in this room possibly in the beds dying from such a weapon.

Brian knew he had to give respect for his brothers and sisters-in-arms that were less lucky than him.

Dear God, just…something happen!

As if his pleas for a way out of this place for the day were heard from the Lord above, the medic, with flat clops of their shoes stood in front of him, their hazel eyes looking at Brian's bright blue ones.

Finally, at least now he would say something instead of pacing around like Brian would, if not for the injury part and all.

“Brian, I presume?", the medic said in a monotone and emotionless voice. They needed this work ethnic to be the most efficient in this field as they could. While this inevitably made them very hard to relate to, they could place all their focus on saving lives of the wounded, plus Brian had a lot of that lack of feelings already.

Brian simply sighed at a break from the monotonous lack of activity.

“Yes", Brian responded simply. He just wanted to get the hell out of here.

“Well, you have no major injuries, that is, besides your rather large bruises on the lower body.", the medic continued.

Wow, way to state the obvious. Even Brian knew this was somewhat pointless.

“So, what I recommend is some medicated bandages over the affected regions and to leave them on until possibly redeployment."

Brian simply nodded. He obviously didn't want to waste his time for bandages, but whatever. Besides, even touching them with his own hands hurt pretty bad, like all bruises do.

Brian would ask the physician for how long he was relieved of his duty for. In the Union, the warriors would have to go to the Medical Wing to not only receive treatment for their injuries, but also be informed of how long they would have to stay out of the field given the severity of the damage done to their bodies. For the most insignificant cuts, or if they were unscathed at all, they would receive only about two days' worth of rest. For the ones who had life-threatening problems from their wounds, however, some were just let go permanently. Those unfortunately were the ones with missing limbs or functions whose parts of themselves and usefulness were gone forever from the battlefield, forever incomplete.

Brian sighed as he looked at the pale-faced medical professional walking over to the table behind him to get something. They reached into a case filled with various tools for basic injuries, such as healing ointment devised by the humans of the Union and other things.

He took some of the whitened and thick bandages made of rough leather characteristic of such a field and got out a green bottle of healing fluids. Brian didn't ask about it. He just accepted that some things were never meant to be questioned. The medic popped of the blacked cap with his thumb as it rolled onto the leather case, the man pouring some of the clear liquid on the bandages with the sound of running water in the open air, soaking them in the medicine. Once he was finished, Brian faced forward to await the pain of him applying them. He then felt the medic's overly long strips of dressing cloth start wrapping themselves around him. He let out a deep breath as he felt a ping of expected discomfort from the fluids.

As to why he couldn't put them on himself, Brian would never really know. He guessed the physician didn't want the injured soldier to do it. It was simply their job.

The professional did the business behind him, making a straight and upper diagonal cross with the bandages on his right side.

Dear God, this was taking an eternity. He just wanted to leave this behind like a bad memory or a dream so horrible that he wished he fell into blackness when asleep.

After what felt like a few hours, it was done.

The medic went to his front with his clip board and pencil in his hands once again. He looked at Brian's bright blue eyes once more with his hazel ones.

“Alright, finished. I'd say rest for…"

Brian held his breath. This amount of time chosen felt like the roll of the dice.

“…About four days."

Brian heard a rip. A part of the physician's paper tore off in a strip. It had his signature on it and the allotted time for recovery. They didn't want people to weasel their way out of returning.

Not that Brian would want to disrespect his people.

Brian simply stood up.

Four days wasn't bad at all.

However, he was more fortunate than Blaze in terms of injuries, but because he had some bones broken along with great emotional and mental distress from Brian, he was likely given more time to rest. He deserved it. He was just a rookie and has never been on the field.

Nearly dying and seeing lightning used by a human. Now that seems pretty irredeemably awful.

“Dismissed."

Brian, now glad he could actually do something, lifted himself off of the stool and went to a small table on the side of him.

It had his tunic with its three claw marks cut into it, mail inside, and his white undershirt. His brown, leather, and fingerless gloves with his two gauntlets also were there, awaiting its master to don them once more despite the wear. His scarf was also lying limply there, wanting him to wrap it around his neck in pride.

Brain started to put on the white under shirt first, lifting it above himself before slipping it on like a glove.

Oh, how it felt nice to have something on his upper half again.

After moving the long white sleeves onto his forearms, he looked at his tunic. He realized that he couldn't wear it with its damage. It had to be painstakingly taken to a tailer to fix it.

He always didn't like it when he ruined a good set of clothes. Due to the sheer expensiveness and resources required to create such a specialized article of clothing that acting as surprisingly effective battle gear with the cloth and carefully built chain mail, he only had two other tunics like this one except, well, the draconic claw-shaped rips in its lower half. To have one ruined meant he had to wear one of the others, which meant one less spare tunic.

To be blunt, he would be completely and utterly fucked if he lost function in all three and an unforeseen invasion commenced. Afterall, it took several days to fix just one, regardless of the imperfections carried over from the battlefield. And this is in addition to the commander deciding to give him the slip if such a thing happened.

He just thanked the Lord above that the warriors of the Union didn't have to pay to have armor or clothing repaired from being ruined in the good fight. Brian would probably be broke by now if that was the case.

He just sighed and took the bottom portion he meant to slip his body through and simply and swiftly placed it on his right shoulder to carry it. Then, the scarf was wrapped around his neck, its end hanging off of his left shoulder like some tail. He then took the solid and rigid gauntlets with his gloves and slid them on, stretching them through his fingers with great strength, tightening on his blood vessels.

With his clothing and treatment done, he could now go to the washroom to get a good look at himself and clean his face. He likely had dried blood and draconic ash on his face and clothes. Even with seeing how dirty his undershirt with everything else was, he wanted to see at least a mostly complete image of his clothed frame in a mirror.

Brian started to make hardened steps with his boots given the marble-like flooring. With Earth Dragonkind and Humanity, such great structures can be built within the Union. He made his way to a wooden door with just a peg on it with a flat wooden block with the word “Washroom" on it. It had a big enough door for a fully grown dragon to slip through and had a silvery bending knob to accommodate their lack of thumbs to grip it. Brian placed his right-gloved gauntlet hand on the metal part of the door.

It was so cold as if to tell him that he escaped death once again and the Grim Reaper wanted to let his presence known. The being known simply as Death after all was within these very corridors, claiming his next victims who were less fortunate than them.

Once again, God bless them.

He pushed down on the knob, releasing the mechanism that held it to the entranceway frame. Brian then pulled and opened the way into the washroom.

It was very sterile. It shared the marble floor and had whitish walls. Was it paint or wood? Brian didn't care. Paying attention to the décor wasn't his concern right now. He saw a mirror on the left wall of the cubical room above an ivory looking sink. There was also a latrine in the right side, which was carefully chiseled stone and looked like a chair in some ways except for the gaping hole in the middle of it. Afterall, it had to be large and sturdy enough for both male and female dragons to relieve themselves of either bodily waste or the last meal they ate. The Medical Wing did reek of iron-smelling blood and death, so it was understandable if a person felt sick just being here.

Brian slipped his hand to the other side of the door, feeling the knob on the inside of the washroom. He then simultaneously pulled the door to its hinges and with a distinct clicking sound, he shut it. He looked at the doorknob and noticed a vertical part on the center of the rounded part of it.

Thank God there was a lock.

With little effort, he twisted it and heard another click, signifying it was sufficiently locked. He started to turn around to face the mirror to gaze at his ruined self. After some hardened step on solid ground, he approached the mirror, looking at his face, bright blue eyes sowing through several traces of dried dark red ichor of dead earth drakes and several shapes and fat lines of dark grey cauterized ash. His undershirt had a whole lot of it on it due to the bigger surface area.

Dear Lord…

He not only felt like shit, but he also looked like shit.

Brian then gazed onto the white and polished sink, seeing the central faucet with two cross-shaped handles with hollowed circles in the color of blue on the right and red on the left to the sides.

The cold and hot temperatures. This was truly an achievement of the Union to make things like this.

His right hand gripped the right one. With a metallic sliding sound, he turned it to the right and water started splashing into the bowl that was the sink, falling into a hole that led somewhere Brian didn't know. He then cupped his hand to hold some water, at least for a few seconds. After getting an appropriate amount of the liquid, he placed his water-filled hands onto his face to wash the remnants of the last mission off himself. He got the front edges of his long golden hair wet, with the cooling sensation of the water covering his skin on his front. Some of the liquid got on his long bangs on the sides of his skull and on his shoulders.

While having long hair may seem rather unhygienic, he greatly enjoyed its length. Besides, it's not like he wasn't cutting at all during his life down the road.

After a few minutes of washing his face, Brian got another good look at himself. He appeared a lot better for what it was worth, but it didn't change the fact that he felt awful about himself.

He may look at least approachable, but inside he felt a bit of nothing.

Feeling nothing was one of the worst things in all of existence. When you have this lack of emotion, it feels like a parasite clawing itself into your heart and mind, making the world around you inconsequential with little meaning to it. Worst of all, it makes you lost, confused as to the reason to actually exist at all. It was a horrible experience, and one that Brian was used to by now.

Brian looked at the mirror at his own reflection, as if silently asking what could possibly be next.

Oh, that's right.

Brian then stood up straight and realizing that his cause for staying here was done and over with, he made his way to the door with its silvery knob. He placed his finger-filled gloves of his left hand on its cold metal, and twisted the lock on it, a popping sound coming from it, signifying its new ease of access. He shifted his hand onto the handle itself, and pushed down, a light metallic sound signaling its release to the frame reaching his ears. With a simple push and a light creak, he stepped out of the washroom to finally leave this deathly place.

---

Brian stepped out of the double doors of the Union Warriors building.

He knew he would be back here soon, so he had to make his time out of such a place worth it.

Above the door on its right side was a flag, the familiar one of the Union.

A silver dragon with its wings up in a loop and a human clothed in white with angel wings downward, also in a loop. Both made a figure-eight shape. It was on the background of darkened blue to make the bright colors pop out.

On the far left was a red and rusting pump with a wooden bucket underneath it. It was a safety precaution with fire dragons living in the Union and as their enemies on the world's stage. While the Union Fire Department could deal with large fires, the tiny and contained accidents were on the citizen's duties. Only for emergencies were they to be called. These things were all around the city.

With a deep breath, Brian made his way into the city, buildings of various colors, shapes, and sizes everywhere, although they were all lined with bland grey rooms with tiny silvery and pointed objects on the top of them.

Lightning rods. One of the best inventions of Humanity that protected its inhabitants from lightning storms and electric dragon accidents.

The signature flags of the H.D.U. were everywhere. Hardened and flattened cobblestone paths likely made from earth drakes filled the roads, making it a comfortable walking experience for all. Humans and dragons, whether with each other or separate, walked alongside one another in the simple act of talking, mingling with their fellow citizens.

So, this was the Union. Humanity and Dragonkind, walking side-by-side for a better world, for how flawed it was.

Brian simply didn't pay attention to them. He had to get this ruined tunic to a tailer and fast. He didn't want to wait until it became darkened outside.

That, and he needed some solace in somebody and a meal.

The Sun was about to leave the gaze of the Earth's inhabitants, creating a light bluish sky in its wake, as the celestial body aimed to retire, allowing the white Moon to take its place.

Brian made expected noises of boots on stones as he walked through the open road to some other part of the city.

Brian somehow felt like a ghost possessed his body to move through the street, ignoring everything.

The stares of recognition.

The small talk in front of him and behind his back.

The many stores and service buildings for taking someone's money in exchange for something else.

Dear God, why did this feel like it was going on forever?

He knew where the damn place was, but he was so drained, it felt like a slog.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally found it. It was a mostly wooden building with a single wooden door on its front. The Union flag was on a pole and hanging out over it, with the familiar roof and lightning rod on it.

There was a sign hanging on the side of the front as well. A plain dark brown background with a medical cross made out of grey yarn, with a thread coming out of it to attach toa needle.

A place to repair clothes. Such an intrinsic business.

Brian couldn't dwell on that. He simply walked over to the door to breach it open. He saw a simple rounded knob made of lightened wood on it. It was likely that way instead of being angled due to the fact that this was likely a human-based business. Afterall, dragons didn't wear clothes. But if there were dragon workers here, why the hell would you have such a thing? He was surprised they didn't receive complaints yet about it.

Still, he placed his right hand on it and twisted it. He pushed, revealing this place he needed to enter for his own sake.

In the entrance was an open area lit with a lantern hanging from the ceiling, shining to show a plush red carpet on a dark wooden floor. Seats with purple plush cushions on the bottom were on both sides of the room, with a decent amount of the colored pillows just sitting on the floor also on the sides.

A waiting room for both humans and dragons.

Thank God there was nobody here. He didn't want to interact with anybody right now.

On the opposite wall on the left was a desk cubicle in the shape of a square against the corner. Inside it was a dark-skinned woman currently sitting in it and looking over some documents. She had a pair of squared bifocal glasses and black and long curly hair going over her shoulders. She had a worker's suit on, even though she was a receptionist.

She currently was reading a book as she waited for someone to approach her.

That, Brian did.

He made soft steps with his boots as he neared the desk, which gained the attention of the woman.

With a clapping sound of shutting her hardback with her left hand and placing in on her desk, she gained an enthusiastic smile and placed all of her thoughts into offering service to this customer.

“Hey there Hun! What could we patch up for you today?", the woman asked him in a very kind and comforting tone.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to get his feelings cheered up.

Brian simply took the damaged tunic hanging on his shoulder with his left hand and showed it to her.

Seeing the article of clothing, she snaked her hands over the glass of the desk to examine it. When she felt the golden, soft, and mail-filled clothing, she looked at the three claw marks in it, observing it like a scientist at an experiment.

She was in this field for a good reason. Nobody would be able to treat valuable fabrics with such attention and care.

She took her right thumb to get under the tears to identify the little things.

Where were the problems?

What were the issues?

The effort needed?

The time needed?

The people needed?

Brian began to get uneasy. He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. He crossed his arms and tapped his toes in the boots in impatience. He had a long day and wanted solace from his mission for at least a few hours.

The woman noticed this, darting her eyes from the tunic to the waiting customer.

With her right hand, she readjusted her bifocals before giving him her conclusion.

“Well, it has some nasty tears in the front."

Wow, what a way to state the obvious.

Brian silently listened.

“It'll take…ummmmmmmm…", the woman said and stopped, her mind trying to accurately predict the timespan to repair his battle wear.

Again, Brian awaited the words to leave her mouth.

“…About six days."

Shit.

That meant he had to use another one for now.

Brian always hated it when this happened, but it is not like he could stay irritated. These people did great work, and the fact that being a fighter in the Union meant having clothing and armor repairs free definitely helped. His tunic specifically also needed extremely accurate and toiling work to fix it given its complex and valuable design. Still, it made him disappointed all the same.

Go figures.

Brian gave a deep sigh, looking more tired than he already was. The receptionist noticed this and said nothing. Most warriors go through with this. She simply accepted the fact that he was feeling down.

She placed the golden clothing in a long and thick rectangular hole in the wall behind her chair and into the main building for someone to grab it to start its repair.

“Well, you have a nice night Hun! And chin up, okay? Sleep well.", the smiling woman said kindly to Brian. As a person meant to give customers the utmost satisfaction, she would try to keep their spirits up, regardless of what transpired to them.

Sadly, Brian was used to this and simply nodded his head in response. He didn't want to appear disrespectful, but he felt like shit in the deep end.

Before he turned away to approach the exit behind him, he saw the open and gaping doorway to the main building. It looked like a small warehouse with glowing lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Many workers, mostly women with some men, had several spools of colored yarn, strings, and twine to fix gaping holes in all manners of clothing. They took their silvery needles and slowly and steadily poked it into specific spot to start or continue the repair process.

Brian even saw some earth dragons there, floating the metal and looped needle into soft fabrics.

Humans and dragons, working together doing God's work.

People put their hard-earned talents to benefit all.

It was hard work, but it was important. Definitely more than people believe.

With the woman now sitting at the desk and reading her book once again, Brian turned around to leave.

He could now see the one he cares about most in this world right now.

Brian didn't know if it would truly make him feel better, but he was all that he had left.

If not, then so God help him.

---

It was now the early onset of night.

The sky became a slowly darken blue, the Moon giving off its comforting and familiar shine to the world, replacing the Sun completely in outer space until morning.

Within the Union streets a few people, human and dragon, roamed, likely on their way back home and possibly to eat supper, hit the hay after a long day of work to sustain their society and their own life, or to spend quality time with family.

Unfortunately, Brian had no family.

He never knew them and any reach for some lost or forgotten memory led to nothing, like a dead end in an endless labyrinth.

It came to the point at which Brian stopped trying.

The only evidence that his parents so much as existed and give birth to him were the two necklaces hanging on his neck.

The holy symbols within Humanity and Dragonkind.

It was the only thing he had besides his name, well, that and his infatuation with the color yellow.

Brian couldn't put his finger on it, but, like his life in his earliest year, the answers couldn't be formed at all.

It and his powers were an unsolvable equation in which there appears to be an answer, but not even the best mathematicians or the one who created such a thing, himself, could do anything to get a crack at what knowledge was needed to figure it out.

Even then, what after?

Sometimes questions are best left without answers, and answers sometimes shouldn't have questions asked of them.

Brian walked alone in the very early night, his boots making clipping and clopping sounds on the cobblestone road.

He was on his way to his first bit of solace from this inner turmoil.

It wasn't much time until the human reached it.

He knew this place like the back of his hand given how important it was to him and the ones, or in this case, one.

He saw its front.

That flag again hanging above the entrance.

The brown, old timely, yet comforting and welcoming look.

Those iconic double doors that go inside, leading to a world where nothing really mattered, at least for a few hours.

It was the Tavern, the place where people can drink their worries away without a care in the universe.

There were rectangular golden windows on both sides of the entranceway, showing the muffled sounds of voices inside, whether to oneself, or others.

Brian took a deep breath. It was time to release his feelings and vent on someone inside this place.

Without further ado, he stepped up to the doors, seeing the lack of any knobs, with there only being flat pieces of long rectangles.

Ah, yes. There were no such things as that on these doors. Brian couldn't tell whether it was to help dragons make their way inside or ease the exit of those drunk out onto the street.

Regardless, Brian took his right hand to open the right door.

He made contact and felt the warm metal, clearly having use today. It always was touched by skin or scales.

Then, Brian, eager to escape from his grievances, pushed.

He let the light inside leak out into the growing darkness outside.

He instantly felt it.

The loud chatter.

The laughter.

The sounds of mugs clinking, full of ale and other beverages.

The calm atmosphere.

Oh, Brian felt like he hasn't been here in a decade despite being here a lot.

Brian pushed further, allowing himself inside.

It was massive. Large round tables with chairs for humans and cushions for dragons sat around them. There were glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, their light painting the simple bright wood colored place. There was a long island of a darker coloration with blackened stools and cushions in front of it. Behind it were what seemed like dozens of glasses on shelves, likely alcoholic drinks ready to be mixed to create concoctions to grace the taste buds of its customers, and the people running the place and preparing such liquids made for consumption.

Brian, once he got past the door, it slowly and quietly closed itself, not making a sound as it drifted to its original position.

Brian saw all the dragons and humans mingling either with their own or with each other.

Here, the species doesn't matter.

Their goal was the same. Just relax, talk, drink, and possibly have hangover from drinking.

They didn't pay attention as he made his way over to a table in the middle of the place, or somewhere in the middle at least.

Thank goodness that the talking muffled most of the stray noises from his boots in this place.

He saw it.

It was occupied by only one person.

An electric dragon.

They were holding a specially made mug for the three-clawed paws of Dragonkind.

Brian didn't think, he knew that ale was inside. The dragon race could process alcohol way faster than a human after all, allowing them to somehow not get tipsy from what would get a human knocked out.

They were currently looking away from him as Brian made his way over to a chair.

Right next to them.

Brian took his hands and swiftly slid the chair on their right out from under the table and sat his rump in it, quickly making more sound from the legs creating friction with the floor as he scooched forward, placing his legs under the whole thing and placing his hands lightly on its large surface.

The dragon, upon hearing a noise out of his sight, snaked his head to his right to meet whatever made those noises pierce his ear holes.

Then, their eyes met.

They instantly gained a smile on their maw.

With the mug in their left paw, they took their right one to place on Brian's left shoulder in comradery, feeling soft cloth and the human feeling the strong, yet gentle flesh on the bottom of their foot.

“Brian! How're you doing?", they said in greeting to the human, happy to see him again.

Brian couldn't help a tiny smile from forming. He always anticipated seeing his friend here.

Or, well, his only friend.

Brian could do nothing but respond with some equally kind and welcoming words of his own.

“Hey Voltson."

Voltson…

The young electric drake had yellow scales characteristic of his race, with dark blue spines from his head to the tip of his long tail. His whitish horns came off the sides of his skull and went backwards like the shape of a lightning bolt. The drake had a pair of strong and swift wings folded on his back and silvery claws and teeth to boot. Voltson also had very defining eyes, colored purple like shiny amethysts.

He also sported a darker, more gold-colored scarf with the Union symbol on it, indicating he was a warrior within the H.D.U.

The drake was Brian's only true friend in this slowly darkening world.

Voltson deserved tremendous respect from where he came from before coming to live in the guild. Since his race was very outgoing and peace loving, well, except when they got dirty with unwanted people on their territory and property, him leaving a life of minimal cares in the world and luxury compared to the hellhole they were in now was a great sacrifice of an existence where nothing mattered with no threat to their wellbeing. Voltson left a life guaranteed to make him happy for all of his days and with his family after seeing the true evil of Dragonkind and Humanity after exploring outside his people's territory.

Electric dragons were risk-takers after all, living everyday like it's their last.

The concept of the War happening outside his seemingly perfect world made him rethink everything. After some heartfelt goodbyes, he left, searching for a purpose.

Then, he came here.

Voltson clicked with Brian ever since he was his temporary partner for a few missions. They became great friends since those days.

Unlike the other people, especially dragons, he was fine with the human's uncanny ability to conjure up electricity in his own palms and, well, possibly anything else. He was immune to the great element due to his race's scales and abilities after all.

He, like the rest of Electric Dragonkind, was outgoing, open-minded, and one that took risks, even if it would kill him in the end.

That was good ol' Voltson for you.

They would be there for each other after learning of their internal struggles. While Brian's was more obvious given the whole Union spreading gossip, Voltson's were rather surprising.

Despite his outgoing nature and the open attitudes of his species, he ironically had some very bad trust issues.

It all happened when he fell in love with a dragoness, an electric one like him. It seemed so perfect, like the drake was finally witnessing a dream come true of finding a mate to spend the rest of his existence with.

That is, until she ditched him.

When he found out that she was with another electric drake while he was courting her, it completely broke his heart and left fractures from that day forward. He left for a few days and returned to vent all of his hurt feelings to the human after drinking some of the Tavern's strongest brews.

That was why they were friends after all. If you couldn't support them through hardship, then what are friends for?

Unfortunately, Voltson became infatuated with another dragoness.

And another.

Then another.

They all ended the same.

They left him without care for his own feelings and sacrifices, believing that he lacked features and traits that others had.

Fuck them.

After the fourth dragoness left him, Brian had to find the yellow-scaled dragon after being absent for nearly a month. When he managed to convince him to come back, Voltson had trouble trusting anyone but him and a few electric drakes. He couldn't blame him. To him, dragonesses only backstabbed and demanded everything out of you, only to discard you like some piece of scrap paper with as much value as dirt into the wind.

It wasn't that it was the drake's fault. He just wanted a dragoness to be with while he was in his youth. But instead, he didn't just receive rejection and disappointment, but also gained loathing.

Brian knew that Voltson would find a female to call his own one day, but it would take a lot of effort and time from not just the electric dragon, but out of him as well.

He would make sure that they wouldn't throw him away like the other dragonesses. He would make them know that that the human was there to make sure that they didn't shatter his hopes and dreams of living with another to call his mate.

Unfortunately, this carried over to drakes and humans as well, especially those that despised Brian himself.

Voltson, due to his faith in people being dulled, instantly became hostile towards those that completely rejected his best friend. Since he was an electric drake, a creature that could create one of the great weaknesses and fears of the rest of Dragonkind, Voltson made his defense against the hatred of others toward the human very apparent. Despite Brian's thought process that they were at least somewhat justified, Voltson protected him from hurting inside and towards his own self-worth.

That was what they did for one another.

Being a shelter from a growing storm that threatened to topple them over.

Here, they met up to drink and talk about the day at this time on the onset of night. They always did this to constantly keep in touch. It was their place to relieve all the stress and struggles for at least an hour or two before eating supper at the Meal Hall.

“Here.", the drake said, taking a mug with his left paw on the table, once vacant, and sliding it over to him.

“Thanks." Brian thanked Voltson as he passed him the drink. Brian took it with his right hand, his dominant one, and took the drink holder significantly smaller than his friend's. The human looked at it and saw that his drink was completely clear, showing the golden bottom of the cup.

What a nice drake, getting water for him in advance. Voltson knew that Brian hated alcohol and his vow to never get drunk.

“So, how was the mission?", the drake asked with sparkling eyes filled with curiosity. Brian took a swig of the water, the liquid cooling his throat, which felt like sandpaper only moments before, and his piercing blue eyes looking at his best friend.

Ughhhhhh...

His mood immediately soured upon him asking that to start the conversation. It wasn't Voltson's fault, but it was a horrible way to begin their time here for the night.

Brian took a deep breath and sighed as he laid the mug onto the table's flat and smooth surface.

“Well…", Brian started, but he didn't want to remind himself or get Voltson to grind his gears when he recounted how it went. He took his left hand and rubbed the back of his neck in the anxious process of giving the answer, feeling his golden hair.

Voltson was attentive, watching Brian's strained demeaner.

He had the faintest idea that something was up.

“It was…good."

The answer led to more questions after the way Brian spoke and tilted his head a bit at that last word like he was a person who wasn't sure of what they even said.

“How so?", Voltson asked, taking an opportunity to bring his larger dragon mug to his maw, letting the golden ale with fizz go down his gullet.

Well, that didn't help Brian's situation at all.

“Ah, well, me and Blaze the tablet and brought it back. All in one piece."

Voltson, lightly nodded, liking the answer enough, but his mind wonder got the better of him. He set the mug down on the wooden table.

“Was it hard at all?"

Well, at least he didn't ask about that, at least not yet.

“Ummmm, I mean, there were a few close calls, but I'd say it went fine.", Brian responded, deciding to take a sip of his water once again.

“Well, that's nice to hear. I've heard that earth drakes are pretty bad.", Voltson said, keeping a watchful set of thoughts on the human.

Even though Brian how powers that could exceeded his in some ways, he wasn't invincible.

But yeah, they were awful. They were one of the reasons why the world was going downhill nowadays. They could only hope for the best, but many people came back with parts of them forever broken or separated after encountering the green-scaled dragons. Taking them down was no easy feat.

Brian wanted to leave this conversation alone, but his inner self wanted to get this collection of darkness off his chest.

_ 'If you can use lightning, don't you think you shouldn't be around any dragons?' _

That's it. He'll tell him about it, even though he wanted the idea to die and turn into ashes in the past.

Regardless of if he was angry about it.

“Well, there's something else...", Brian started with those terrible thought entering his conscious once more, looking away sheepishly.

Voltson immediately aimed all attention towards his friend, looking at the human with his bright purple eyes.

Was there something else?

“S-Something happened…"

That was all that Voltson needed to get his thoughts swimming in his head.

No.

In the name of Bahamut, please tell him it didn't happen again.

Voltson opened his maw to ask him the great question, the one in which he and Brian hoped was a hard 'no'.

“B-Blaze. Did he…?"

Brian used the arm rest on the chair and lifted the bottom of his jaw with his left hand and a cradle of its fingers, clearly tired. It was as if a veil of shadows washed over him, ruining the happy and glad mood the two had in a moment's notice.

There was only one answer that Brian didn't want to be true.

But it was.

“Mmmm_hmmmmm_.", Brian mumbled in response, still not looking with the mug's handle still in the fingers of his right hand.

That was all Voltson needed. However, he wanted to make sure that it didn't happen. He wanted confirmation even though he knew it was true.

“A-And he…?"

“Yep."

Bahamut.

He knew it. The fire drake rejected Brian after showing him lightning. Like everyone else before and after him.

Voltson shook his head and gave an irritated sigh at seeing his friend in internal suffering from today. He didn't know the full story yet, but Bahamut, he already started to dislike Blaze.

“Really? Again?"

Brian simply nodded as an answer.

The drake gave another sigh of exasperation.

Brian didn't deserve this. He never did.

“Bahamut. This is getting ridiculous."

“Same.", Brian responded to the drake numbly.

Voltson was getting flustered inside. Why couldn't people just stop terrorizing his best friend? Why couldn't they give Brian one chance upon seeing electricity in his hands instead of running away like they saw a ghost? It was ludicrous.

“Seriously, I mean, why can't they give you a chance and not run away? Talk about awful."

“Hey, join the club.", Brian bounced off of Voltson's words, locking eyes with the drake before raising his mug a bit higher for as a response before bringing it up to his mouth to let the clear liquid grace his throat once more.

“How could this…Blaze do this to you? Oh, brother.", Voltson said with a roll of his eyes at the situation. He never liked it when people, human or drake, did this to his brother-in-arms.

No. Brian started to not like the fire drake at all, but it wasn't entirely his fault. Brian did use something that could kill him. A single miscalculation could have at least scarred the young, red-scaled dragon from a mighty bolt, if not kill him. Still, he felt that he handled the situation poorly, leaving him out in the hall without any care for his feelings even with a person to explain at least some of the story to him.

“Voltson…"

“No. Brian, this drake hurt you. You've got to leave him. You and I both know he's a bad person to act like that."

It was true in every way, but…

“He's just a kid.", Brian tried to answer with a light shake of his head.

It was a piss-poor excuse, but Brian wanted the slimmest chance to grab onto that could mean he could have a new friend.

Voltson simply shook his head. He knew Brian wanted some more friends, but always failed once the subject of lightning came up. Regardless, he couldn't let his best friend dwell on this, or it would eat him from the inside like a vat of acid.

“Brian…"

Voltson started but contemplated his words and gained a worried look on his face.

“Look, I'm sorry about what happened. But this has got to stop. Please. Just forget about him."

Brian said nothing, resuming his normal sitting posture with his arms on the table.

He was right. Leave him be.

Good riddance.

There was a pregnant silence between the two despite the loud chatter in the Tavern. They did nothing, but occasionally look into each other's eyes. There was a draining feeling in them. They both were so tired of the hurtful looks they got from the world around them, especially over their ability to harness one of the most destructive forces the planet has ever seen.

“You know…", Voltson began, getting Brian's attention from his blue eyes looking at his own yellow-scaled face.

Brian was now aware of the words slipping in between the drake's sharp teeth as he slowly tilted turned his head to the human.

“Me and the drakes at the Yellow House are playing cards tonight. You wanna come?"

Oh Voltson…

The Yellow House was a nickname for the lightly yellow-shaded dormitory where the electric dragon warriors of the Union resided.

Well, that and it was a way to house the yellow-scaled drakes and dragonesses away from the other dragon houses. They were very terrified of them after all.

Brian knew that the drake was trying his hardest to make him feel better with a game of cards, but he had to decline. He had many thoughts he had to look over and contemplate. Voltson was a great friend, but he needed alone time right now.

“Sorry Voltson. No thanks…"

Voltson had a sigh of disappointment on his worried-looking face. He wanted to make Brian feel inclusive, but he got it. Brian just needed some time on his own to let everything settle in his head.

Voltson looked into his mug.

It was empty.

Did he drink all of it and not notice it?

With a deep breath, he let his over-sized cup go from his right paw and started to get up from his cushion.

“Well, I'm heading over to the Meal Hall. If you want to find me or want to play later, you know where I'll be."

Voltson got on his four legs and started to move.

“Thanks for everything Voltson. See you there."

The drake simply nodded before walking out in between the chairs and tables and out of those double doors. He went out silently, like a stray mouse.

Brian just sat there, tired from it all.

He then slowly placed his forehead against the wood of the table, his hair acting as a canopy of darkness over his face.

Dear Lord, why couldn't anybody get the two of them?

Brian, after a solid minute, lifted his head and went to bring the mug up to his lips to drink the water in it, only to look into it and see that it was dry besides a few water droplets. He slowly lowered it onto the table and slipped his fingers out of the confines of the handle, placing his whole hand on the table.

How…

How long has it been?

Brian looked out the window and saw it was a very dark blue outside, almost on the onset of blackness.

He sighed.

He supposed he should leave for the Meal Hall as well.

Thank God that he and the other Warriors got three free meals per day and drinks at the tavern on the house. Warriors here are very respected here after all.

Well, except him.

The Meal Hall…

Brian sighed.

He swore to God.

If it was some variation of 'meat for the dragons and bread and vegetables for everyone else' for dinner tonight, he thought that he was going to have a brain aneurysm.

The food got old very quickly after eating it for years. It was good, but repetitive as hell.

Honestly, he always welcomed it when something new was made, even if it tasted like dragon shit and made him vomit his organs out a few hours later.

He would rather have something experimental, even if was awful, as opposed to something that was just okay and somewhat sterilized over and over again in the grand scheme of things.

“Let's just hope they have something good tonight.", Brian whispered to his own mind as he pushed himself off the chair with his hand on the table. The mugs, now discarded and bare of their contents will be picked up by someone working here to clean.

With that, he sat up, pushed in his seat and walked towards the double doors, into the darkened night.

---

A door opened.

It was one of a polished mahogany brown with a wooden knob on it.

A creak reverberated through its hinges as it was pushed to the inside, revealing a room that slowly revealed itself from the lamps and candles lit from the outside of its confines.

Brian stood in the hallway of his dorm in the building for the human warriors. As one of its best fighters, he had a room in the upper story all to himself.

While he would want anything than to be alone, he wished for some time to let his thoughts float and settle in peace.

He got back from supper. It was exactly like yesterday. Some meat and some vegetables with bread, or, in this case, pork with some greens and bread. Go figures. Just…whatever. Brian had better things to worry about.

The place was still dark, but it revealed some of the room's contents.

It wasn't the most spacious area in the world, but it was a comfortable living space. It was also rather sparce, containing a wooden desk to the left wall of the cubicle dorm with a chair slid into its empty space at the bottom to the left side of the small drawers built in. There was also a bed with a pillow and a blanket owned by him, however obscured by the darkness. Its foot was touching the desk's end.

Brian stepped in, walking into his living space. The human had a round clock that was outrageously expensive despite how light and simple it was on the right wall. The right wall also had a wooden wardrobe to the left of the clock and into the back right corner filled with his remaining tunics and his bright colored clothes. He also saw a familiar object on an end table to the left of the cot. It was one of glass and bronze metal in a small round top and a flatter and wider base.

It was a lantern.

Created by humans, these tools were an excellent source of light to brighten up the void that is darkness. It was not something that was cheap either, as Brian spent a lot of money on it. While having candles was significantly less expensive, they never lasted long and led to a great amount of wastes consisting of charred animal fats being dumped out somewhere and built up to costing hundreds of coins each year. However, that wasn't to say that lanterns didn't have their own flaws. They ran on oil, a hot commodity that was surprisingly hard to come by. While a refill could last from a few months to half a year, the number of coins needed to refuel it up was great. Still, it was more efficient and brought in more of a glow than anything those sticks of wax could do.

Brian, seeing the familiar object on the end table, making soft steps toward it. When he did get to it, he found an oval-shaped pin on the base. Twisting it led to a sliding sound of metal scratching, and, with some more of the gentle movements, led to great light filling the room.

Who knew people could hold light itself in their own fingertips.

Brian, upon seeing no use of the lights in the hallway, sought to close his door. The familiar, if annoying creaking came out, but ceased once the human pushed the door all the way, a click signifying it is stuck to the doorway. Over the door was a flat piece of sliver melded into a circle. Brian took his left hand and twisted it to the left, making it unopenable from the outside.

Turning around he saw his cot. It was his place of solitude and peace, although he suffered a lack of it as of late. He saw the small shelf just above his desk with books on it. A man such as himself needed to have a sharp mind after all.

One of those books was his Bible.

It was the last gift from the one who raised him before Brian was let out into the world at the tender age of sixteen. He would take it to his place in the Union later on in life, leading to the present.

He read much of the contents of the holy book, following in the steps of the righteous, at least the best he could.

However, he and all the humans that lived here knew that they had to kill to survive. It was a part of life.

He treasured that book.

On the desk's surface was an open book to keep to himself whenever he had to translate his thoughts and feelings into written words.

He walked over to his bed, aiming to let himself relax into the mattress's embrace. He took off his scarf with his left hand and slipped it off of his neck. Holding the rolled-up part that gave the soft sensation to the bottom of his windpipe, he placed it on the peg that was at the foot of the left side of the cot. He placed his hands on his sword and the sheath that held it and, with a click, took it off, throwing it off and onto the floor with a clang. He then leaned himself onto the left wall and took his right fingers on his boot on his lifted foot. With a little effort, he slipped it off, leading to a few tiny pebbles to fall out.

"It had to be earth drakes..."

He tossed his right boot and started on the other. After he did so, releasing more tiny rocks out, he threw that one too.

With that done, he hopped onto the bed in silence except for the bounce form the impact.

Brian just stayed there thinking about everything.

The mission.

Blaze's discovery of his ability to use electricity.

The drake's rejection.

Voltson's kind words of comfort.

And now, the struggle to sleep to a peaceful morning.

It was never peaceful for him.

Shit.

Brian forgot to go to the bank. How could he have forgotten?

His mind was just absolutely fucked with everything. His hurry to come back here to have some semblance of quiet led to him having the thought slip his mind. Now he must leave tomorrow to deposit his coins, now forced to hold on to the piece of metal.

He hated coins. They were heavy and got everywhere.

A sigh left him, leading him to scrunch his face in annoyance.

Boy.

He smelled awful.

Brian would have to get to the bath house either early tomorrow morning or late tomorrow night. He could go now, but the thoughts of Blaze and everything distracted him.

He was a mess.

Brian took his right hand to his face, feeling the skin on it. He then wrinkled it in deep thought.

Dear God.

Just…

Just, what was he _doing _here?

It may have seemed like a scatterbrained or dumb question, but…

Why was he in the Union at all?

Why didn't he just choose a fate elsewhere?

Would anything be different?

Brian suffered from so much from things he not only didn't understand, but had no power controlling as well. It was simply horrible.

Everything in his life went wrong. His parents are most likely dead, he has to live with constant murmurs of words behind his back, and has to see people just run away in fear from something from within that he didn't ask for.

It was just…

Another dejected sigh left him.

So many complex thoughts. So many questions without answers and answers without questions.

Brian just had trouble existing, let alone living. He could take the easy route and blame either Dragonkind or Humanity, but that would not only be inconsiderate, selfish, and downright mean, but it would also be stupid and lazy. There were so many moving parts in everything that he struggled to decipher how they all interacted and worked off of one another.

And then there was Voltson.

Brian loved Voltson like the brother he never had, but even he had to acknowledge that he couldn't stay around the drake forever. Having only one person to fully trust and put all your faith in was something and better than nothing at all, but he would be lying if he said that the electric dragon's personality was easiest to have around.

They both looked out for each other in their darkest times, and he wouldn't trade that for anything, but the drake got into trouble sometimes.

The drake, with his race's risk-taking and open-minded nature, got in some issues due to not abiding by all the rules that he was forced to follow sometimes. He was more disciplined and mature compared to even some older members of his species, but he still fell to Electric Dragonkind's trappings. Brian kept such things under control when order was necessary, but even he can't cover all of the cracks.

He couldn't blame Voltson or his species. It was simply in their nature. He also had great respect for his friend, since the electric drakes, due to their mind-set, were given the deadliest missions in the Union.

Having one person to care about it better than none, but when that said person occasionally got into trouble and was not always there for him since he was a warrior as well, Voltson was an amazing drake, but one that he couldn't spend the rest of his life only knowing alone.

However, all of his attempts to bring in others to create a small friendship circle all failed.

It was something Brian just had to accept. He was always meant to be a loner with his friend.

However, Brian was happy with what little he had.

Drinking something called loneliness with someone was better than drinking it alone, especially in this lost and shadowy place they called Earth.

Brian just wanted to sleep, even if his dream was empty, like his hopes for a new person he could call something more than an acquaintance.

He went onto his left side and took his left fingers to grab onto the now-warmed tuning pin on the lamp and twisted it right.

As the room dimmed, he left himself inside darkness.

He was used to this.

He was born in the darkness of the world.

Despite closing his eyes, he had immense trouble actually falling into the world of slumber.

When he did, predictably, he saw nothing.