Love, Trust, and the Spaces Between

hey this is bad :D

prologue
There is no such thing as a completely silent city.

During the day, Serpent was constantly surrounded by Scorpion Den merchants hawking their goods loudly to dragons of every tribe, trying to advertise everything from potions to tapestries to pickles. Or the SandWings' newest idea of a sporting event, which usually led to yells and screams and mad stampedes through the streets. Sometimes even a fight broken out on the streets, starting with shoves and ending with blood - most of which were, above all, noisy.

But tonight, it was eerily silent - no dragons racing between buildings, no wind howling through the colorful tents. It was so quiet Serpent could hear each and every pebble crunch beneath his talons as he strode through the Scorpion Den.

He had never been a fan of crowds, always preferring to stay home alone curled up with a book. Serpent was not your typical Hydra - the familial clan he hailed from was generally quite adventurous and bold, but with his scrawny build and serious-looking spectacles, he looked anything but.

The stars above him glittered frostily against a blanket of black as he wound his way through the labyrinthine streets. On his wrist, three bold black lines stretched vertically across his sandy scales: the mark of the Hydras. Usually the striking tattoo would bring a frown to his face - after all, he was a "disgrace" to his bloodline - but tonight, it prompted a smile instead. It reminded him of his newly-wed wife, waiting for him at their home. And the five shining golden eggs lined up neatly in their nest together, almost ready to hatch.

Serpent quickened his pace.

Through the streets he ran, his talons pattering softly on the ground as he drew closer and closer to his sanctuary. Usually he tried to avoid physical activity, but this was strangely relaxing, soaring through the silent town as free as a bird. Knowing his soon-to-be family lay only a few minutes away.

That is, until he was slammed back down to earth.

Tackled to the ground. Held there by his neck, struggling for air as the world blurred around him. Unfamiliar voices floated through the air, but already his vision was flecked with black spots and his mind numbing; he couldn't quite tell what they were saying.

Then a new sound joined the cacophony, one that was quiet yet somehow rose to the top of all the other noises around him. One that Serpent knew intimately, but made his heart clench to hear at this precise moment.

"Let him go."

The pressure around his windpipe released, and as Serpent gasped for the cool night air, breathing had never felt so sweet. Slowly the world came back into focus, and he clambered laboriously to his feet.

And there stood Xerocole, the love of his life.

She glared at Serpent’s attackers, and the sheer force of her anger made them take a step back. He stumbled toward her agonizingly slowly. “Your quest for money has gone too far. I always knew you Halcyons were a bunch of dirty schemers, but I never thought you would stoop to murder.”

Their leader, brutally muscled and covered with the Halcyon tattoo, rolled his eyes and spat in the dirt. “We just want control of the market. And you’re the one keeping it from us.”

He stepped forward and dug his talons into Serpent’s arm, and he let out a whimper of pain. “He dies - unless you hand over the paperwork.”

Xerocole hissed at him. “Let him go, or I’ll execute you myself.”

Talons tightened around Serpent’s neck, and he choked for air. “I don’t see that happening any time soon,” the burly dragon drawled.

Time slowed down. And Xerocole charged.

Suddenly the air was filled with shrieks and cries of pain as Xerocole darted through the melee, kicking and clawing anyone she could reach to get to her husband. Serpent dragged himself out of the crowd, gray clouding his vision.

It was easy to say you were brave, he thought raggedly. But at that moment, the only thing he was thinking about was escape.

And that was his biggest mistake.

One moment, Xerocole was very much alive, the spirit of battle flickering in her eyes. And the next, she was sprawled on the ground, dark liquid leaking slowly from her neck.

Serpent let out a cry of anguish and ran toward her, his desire to flee forgotten. Falling to his knees and feeling desperately for a heart rate and grabbing her talon, all while trying fruitlessly to staunch the bleeding. He wasn’t even aware of the battle stilling behind him; the only thing he could see was her.

“Please,” he whispered, tears falling softly onto her sandy scales. “I’m nothing without you.”

“Take care of the eggs,” Xerocole murmured, her breath coming in weak puffs. Serpent was hardly able to feel it anymore. “I love you.”

And then her eyes went blank and her talon limp, and the life left her body, and with it, Serpent’s everything.

Behind them, most of the Halcyons had nervously crept closer, staring at Xerocole with panicked gazes. Yes, they wanted domination of the market to more than a healthy level, but they hadn’t come here to kill.

On the other hand, their ringleader’s eyes were glowing.

He cracked his knuckles and strode closer to Serpent, while the latter could do nothing but tremble over his fallen love. “Don’t fight back, Hydra. Now, where do you keep the documents? Tell me, and you live.”

Somewhere in the depths of his hazy mind, a voice whispered, Give it to him. It would obviously save his life - Halcyons would stoop to low places, but would never break a promise - and he could walk out of this situation unscathed to grieve Xerocole in peace.

But if Serpent gave up the information… it would mean giving up a chance for his dragonets to have a happy life as well. They’d grow up in a city ruled by the Halcyons, forever in fear and terrified to live.

On the last day of his life, Serpent found his voice.

Slowly, he struggled to his feet, his speckled brown wings quivering and his expression resolute. “No,” he whispered. “I won’t let you hurt my family.”

The Halcyon gave him a crooked smile, his eyes dancing. In another universe, the two could have been mistaken as allies for how friendly the curve of his mouth seemed, how relaxed his posture was. But here, the amber streetlamp casting a devilish glow and illuminating him from behind, he looked insane. Maybe even deadly.

“So be it, then,” he said, stalking even closer to Serpent, until he could feel his hot breath on his snout. He lowered his head and shrunk backward as the buildings spun wildly around him.

Xerocole, he thought hopelessly, a final string threading through his mind. I’m sorry.

Then a talon slashed across his neck, and his world went dark.

poll(s? maybe?)
alright, how bad was it? absolutely terrible. my brain is permanently damaged it sucks salvageable. it's okay, at least i'm not traumatized not bad, not bad noiceee, would reread maybe once hecking awesome m8 (if you pick this i swear you are out of your mind)