[Home] { 1 -- 2 -- 3 -- Chapter Four - The Demon of the Asylum } Ssa'agrinth -- Zhoenon When Zhoenon awoke once more, she was unsure of how much time had passed since she'd fallen unconcious. There were no more screams echoing about the Asylum, no more dreadful wraiths haunting her. However, there was something new. Everything was whispering, soft voice murmured from every shadow as if the shadows themselves were alive. Finally Zhoenon pushed herself into a sitting position and looked around. She was shivering with cold from what logic told her was the autumn air, but which a vivid imagiation was quite sure spurred from the ghostly presence of things which she could not perceive. "Hello?" She called into the shadows, wondering if perhaps one of the disembodied voices would assist her. She was bleeding, an obvious fact if she cared to touch a finger to the side of her head, but that wasn't what was disturbing her. Zhoenon was crashing from her beautiful high, and being alone with nothing but disembodied spirits in a cold asylum did not make her slow descent into sorrow any better. Another shiver, it was as if a sudden gust of wind had flooded into the room, chilling her to the bone. From somewhere within her mind Zhoenon plucked out the sound of claws clicking softly on the bare floor from within the thunder of her beating heart. "H-hello?" A tremble slid through her voice, but now with good reason. A shadowy voice filled her mind, accompanied by a prounced click, click, click moving across the stone floor toward her. Such a frightened little raven. Don't fret, I won't hurt you. Zhoenon wasn't what one could call a mind reader, but she was well aware when tone, even mental ones, contradicted words. This was a perfect example. The typically soothing words did nothing of the sort they were supposed to, in fact they sent another tremble of fear rushing through her. At the same time the whispering around her grew worst, burning into a hiss that penetrated all areas of her mind. "Who are you?" Zhoenon wasn't sure who she was questioning, though she believed she was addressing the shadowy-voiced click,click,click of claws upon stone. The silent whisperings did not have a name, something Zhoenon was aware of. Perhaps this was all just hallucinations? Wrong again, little raven. I'm quite real. My name is Ssa'agrinth. Zhoenon felt like she was in a daze when she finally lifted the fallen flashlight, flicked it on, and pointed it in the direction she had last heard the faint click,click,click. To her shock, she didn't scream. She made not even the slightest noise as she stared at the magnificient form laying only a few meager feet from her. A dragon. She was staring at a dragon. His eyes were as black and shadowy as his voice, with a leathery looking hide that appeared to be just as black. Ebony double-spines adorned his back, in exception of the first four which were coated in a glistening silver material. In all honesty he was exceptionally beautiful and devestatingly frightening at the same time. For a long moment Zhoenon and Ssa'agrinth said nothing to each other, even the whispers around her had fallen into a hushed lull. Though the silence was thick, it was not uncomfortable. Both the dragon and the girl appeared to be in their own silent debate, a debate that was ended by Zhoenon. "Why are you calling me 'Little Raven'?" The amusement that preceeded and coloured the mental voice sent another chill through her. Many cultures honor the raven as a bringer of magic. And you, Little Raven, harbor magic not even you are aware of. The dragon's explanation shocked Zhoenon more than the fact that she indeed conversing with a dragon. "I...have magic?" The thought that he was mocking her only vaguely touched her mind. In fact, she was horribly sure he was telling the truth. After all, how many times had she heard her strange aunt telling her that the truth was often times far stranger than anything that could be made up? It was a perplexing situation, but for a girl who's brain was so frequently flipped around backwards by Acid, this wasn't all that farfetched. Of course. I'm sure you know that by now? How could you live through 17 years without realizing? This time Zhoenon defintiely picked up mockery in the dragon's mental tone, however, he continued before she could take much offense. Then again, being born with magic is a rare trait on this boring little planet. If your parents ever knew, they probably hid it from you in fear. This ignorance of such a special trait seemed to annoy Ssa'agrinth, and at the same time something seemed to please him. "No one ever told me... I..." She paused here. Many of the things her aunt had blabbered to her about witches and magicians now made much more sense, and her strange aunt suddenly seemed at last a degree more sane than she ever had been before. You have yet to introduce yourself to me. Ssa'agrinth's statement was flat, as if he had little interest in the subject of her name, but felt he should request it anyway. With a note of uneasiness, Zhoenon answered. "Zhoenon... Zhoenon Craft." Another amused flicked flashed through the dragon's mental touch and in his shadow black eyes. "I thought dragon's like..ate young maidens and what not... I dont think I've ever head of them sitting about for polite conversation." I don't typically eat the foolish saps that wander in here. If I did, there would surely be an investigation and then I might loose a very beautiful lair. Zhoenon looked about the room, eyeing the peeling walls and broken down beds with an uncertain look. She didn't quite find it beautiful, though it did have a certain haunting allure. However, you're different. A pleasant maiming like usual would only scar you...and I believe you make a much nicer addition to my collection whole and in tact, rather than broken... Though, if I broke your legs, I wouldn't even have to worry about you attempting to escape. "An addition to your collection?!" Zhoenon cried, her eyes widening in shock. Abruptly she was shooting toward the door, she didn't want to be held captive by a dragon! In a flurry of movement Zhoenon was suddenly pinned to the chilled stone, sharp pain was flaring through her shoulders and a large form had pinned itself atop of her. For a moment Zhoenon was shocked still by panic, however panic soon cleared to reveal the truth of the situation: Ssa'agrinth had pinned her. The pain was his deadly sharp claws in her shoulders. I suggest you don't try escaping again. Ssa'agrinth hissed into her mind. Not until the sun rises. Once its up you can frolic and do your normal things. But at nightfall you're mine again. Zhoenon shivered, but didn't dare move for fear of being further punctured. "What if...what if I don't come back when the sun sets?" Dragons did not have lips to grin, but Zhoenon could sense the grin that touched Ssa'agrinth's mind, as well as the sickeningly malicious tint it held. Then I believe I will hunt you down and break your legs so you will be unable to escape me again. Being an orphan as you are, I doubt many would miss you. His comment was a harsh blow, and she knew he was aware of it. Whimpering slightly, Zhoenon's lithe form relaxed. "Fine. I'll come back at night." Ssa'agrinth sprung off of her, landing lightly aside her. His dark eyes glittered, harsh and uncaring, though Zhoenon thought she saw a flicker of loneliness, yet it was gone in an instant. "So, why do you want me to stay?" Ssa'agrinth stretched languidly. Because you're an oddity here. The black terran had finished stretching and found a nice tattered matress to lay upon once more. In all my time in this world I have yet to encounter a witch such as yourself. I would be sorely displeased if I didn't add you to my collection. Zhoenon was unnerved by being part of a dragon's collection...but she was free to leave during the day. Which was just as well, or she'd starve in the labryinth of halls that was the abandoned asylum. Then again, Ssa'agrinth might find enough kindness to feed her, and then she'd be living off of rats. Not at all a pleasant thought. So, she began to force conversation. She asked him of his past, of his species and he, in return, asked her similar questions. Before long the conversation was no longer forced, it became easy and even enjoyable (something Zhoenon hadn't expected in the least). Zhoenon was beginning to believe she might not mind being part of Ssa'agrinth's collection, but while she was getting used to that, she was going to figure something else out. If she really was a witch, a magic user, or whatever she was called, then Aunt Vyn had known all along and Zhoenon wanted to find out more. [Home] { 1 -- 2 -- 3 -- Chapter Four - The Demon of the Asylum } Ssa'agrinth -- Zhoenon