Surebu

As the shell of a sparking egg cracked open, a curious hatchling took in his first glimpse of the world. He was instantly facinated and wanted to explore and study everything he saw. His parents aproved of his desires, and named him Boken to reflect his passion. As soon as he could walk he was bounding around the lair, learning as much as he could fit into his brain. He found a use for his wings and began to soar high above his home, taking in all that his surrounding had to offer.

Soon Boken was no longer contented to observe everything from afar. With his parent's permission, he began to travel out to learn more. That was when everything went wrong. It was noon, and he was traveling home to escape the heat of the afternoon. On his trekk, he was spotted by a guardian who quickly approached him.

This made the hatchling nervous, and he sped up his pace. However, he was soon overcome by the larger dragon. "Hello, little one! Aren't you a bit young to travel alone?" Boken said nothing, instead trying to push past the other dragon and continue on. The gaurdian easily countered his movements and continued on with the conversation. "Well, since you seem to be in a hurry, I'll let you go. Just be careful out there!" He moved aside, allowing the skydancer to continue. The hatchling looked suspiciously at the guardian before rushing away, releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Soon, he was within sight of his lair, and he began to sprint towards it. Already, the fear of his encounter was fading from his mind, and he was excited to share what he had learned.

He was almost there when something sharp pierced his tail, dragging him back. Before he could scream something was slapped over his mouth, and he was hit in the head, knocking him unconcious. When he came to, he was in a dark cave filled with other hatchlings who were ignoring him. He screamed for help, which primpted a ridgeback hatchling to quickly smother the cry. "Be quiet!" She hissed, terror and pain lighting in her eyes. "No one here will help you." She cautiously removed her hand, and when Boken remained quiet, she offered that same hand to help him up. "Come over here. You don't want them to catch you not working." She quicjly darted back to where she had been before, and he followed as quickly as he could. His leg began to drag, and he discovered it was fractured as pain shot through it, burning away any hope of escape he had.

Hus first week was the hardest of them all, and he wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for the kindness of his fellow slaves. All memories of his past life were quickly and forcefully stifled, amd he couldn't talk about life outside the cave. The supervisors, apparently called Night Lizards, refused to call him by his name, refering to him as Surebu. From the others, he learned this was a word from an ancient language meaning slave. He and the others had to survive on an hour or two of sleep and whatever bugs and fungi they could gather together from the cavern. Water was the only thing they didn't have to worry about, as it pooled into a small lake on the center of their workspace.

And yet, there was always beauty to be found. When the moon shone through a miniscule, guarded hole in the cave and hit the treasure they were constantly unearthing, it formed a silver light show that lifted all of their spirits, no matter how bad the day had been. And his fellow slaves made the days almost bearable. They were constantly helping each other and cheering the group up as much as possible. Boken found it possible to hope for the future. They had to escape sometime, right?

Howwver, as the weeks stretched to months and years, his optimism was swept away. The group was seperated, and several members died. His memories, even his name, faded from his mind, and he became an empty machine. His scales and feathers dulled, and his eyes faded, losing most of their life. He now struggled to do his tasl, and soon he would be of no help. Then, there would be nothing and no one that could save him. In an act of desperation, he took his rest hours to plan and put into action an escape. Miracuously, he wasn't caught. This was probably more a result of the guards not wanting to deal with him than any strategy, but he was free!

Free to... do what? He had no goals, no ambitions, no dreams. Nothing but his fear of thw place. He let that guide him and took flight, traveling through the night until he practically fell out of the sky, exhausted. He limped through the strange glowing forest that now surrounded him until he found a lair. He collapsed outside, unable to travel further, and swiftly fell into a deep sleep. When he came to, he was being treated by a worried looking coatle. As he regained strength, he learned to love the lair, and decided to make it his home. Refusing to tell of his past, he hoped that soon he could return to the normal life he had enjoyed before inprisonment.

But that would not be. While he refused to admit it, his time in captivity had broken him. Gone was the spirit of adventure and learning, replaced with a cutting fear of leaving the lair. And so he stayed, still refusing to let anyone close to him, afraid they would be torn away as his old life had been, as his slave friends had been. His physical wounds healed, but the fear that coated his mind only deepened the mental scars. He still goes by his slave name, as he knows no other, and although it is a constant reminder of his past, it seems most natural. Although he will swear he is glad he was weakened so that he could escape, it still left him feeling useless and inadequate.