Wings of Honor: Tales of Pyrrhia

Chapter 7: Prisoner of Peace

When I realized I was awake and not in my cot, I took a good look around my cell. It was large, and made of wooden reeds and vines strapped together. In my daze, I worried for a second that I was hallucinating and that I had in-fact been captured and thrown in a Japanese prison. That is, until two dragons materialized out of thin air.
He's awake. We should go tell Glory. "Go tell Glory."
The other dragon flew off.
I shook my head, making sure I was conscious. That was a fricken dragon that just appeared out of nowhere!
What's wrong with him? Is there a fly or something?
No, that was not an echo. What did Moon say? That I was... a mind-reader? Is that what this is? I can hear other people's thoughts, these dragon's thoughts?
Then my training kicked in. Walking up to the edge of the cell, looking up at my captor.
"Name: Marvin Jerez. Rank: First Lieutenant. Service number: nineteen, nine, twenty-five, seven seven seven. Date of birth. March 9th, 1919."
Great. Now he's talking gibberish. "Be quiet will you. I'm missing suntime for this."
I flinched under his tone. "Suntime? What's suntime?"
Suddenly, he looked up from his laying position. "How in Pyrrhia am I even talking to you right now?"
"Maybe we share common language roots." I don't know, it was my best guess. But really, I was just trying to keep him talking.
He seemed to consider thinking it over, but he trashed the prospect of theory frightfully quickly.
"It doesn't matter. You need to stay quiet." He lay back down.
This dragon's attitude scared me a little. He wasn't curious, he didn't even fathom the prospect of thinking. He had no greater goal in mind, other than following orders and wondering what his next meal will be. I shivered at the thought of being held captive by this specific dragon. He was a good prison guard, but not a conversationalist. The prospect of gaining information that I could use to help myself survive in this world went out the window as fast as my proposed theory. So I headed back to the corner, sitting down in a position to rest my back. Even while laying down, he kept one orange eye on me.
Hell, look at me all you want, I ain't going no place. I wanted to say that to him, but I could only degrade my neutral relationship with him. Rather keep my mouth shut than make an unnecessary enemy.
Suddenly, I felt an awkward feeling in my stomach. It radiated up to my upper abdomen before a low rumble escaped me. I missed breakfast, it was probably midday by now. I hadn't eaten in a while.
"Sorry to bother you, but when will it be mealtime?" I asked in the most neutral voice I could muster. Though I could not keep a few drops of venom from getting through my hungry mouth.
The dragon just looked up, then looked off to a shelf on my left. He walked over to it, picking up something. He lifted up a small door in the cage, then slid the fruit in.
"There. Go nuts."
I walked up to investigate it. It was a mango, but it was bigger than any mango I've ever seen, about the size of a watermelon. I looked around for anything I could use. Tools, cutlery, a sharp-ish edge, but there was nothing I could use. All I had... was my crucifix.
I had an idea. I picked up the large fruit, positioning the long end of my metal cross in a small divot in the wood floor. I dropped the mango on it with a hollow thunk. I did it four more times, carving small holes in a line around its circumference. Then, I positioned the leaking and bruised fruit along one of the more narrow and sharp wooden poles. I lined up my combat boot to kick it like a soccer ball, lodging the mango into the pole. I carefully kept kicking, being sure to avoid it fully splitting and losing my prize. Eventually, I got leverage enough for me to pry it apart by hand. Finally able to taste the literal fruits of my labor. It was opened, but with half the inside turned to mush. The sweet, pungent, smell of mango filled the area, in contrast with the slightly uncomfortably hot and humid weather of the jungle. I grabbed a small amount of the mango mush, slipping the dripping mass into my mouth. The sweet, sugary flavor contrasted sharply with the saltiness of my fingers. An interesting but acquired taste.
I would actually be pretty fine if all they gave me was this.
As I was about to get another handful, I heard wingbeats. The leaves and vines swayed in the wind, but there was nowhere for the wind to get through. Suddenly, a dragon materialized in front of me, dressed in dark emerald-green and orange. I set down my snack, meeting her at the edge of my cage. When she spoke, she had an accent different from the other two dragons.
"So this is our captive? A scavenger? Please don't tell me you wasted a blow dart on a scavenger." The dragon groaned.
"Hey, we were following unknown visitor procedure."
"Yeah, I must admit, that was a pretty decent idea. If you guys engaged me normally, I might've opened fire myself." I tried to disarm the situation.
The smaller dragon seemed to freeze, staring at me. It looked over to my warden, then back at me.
"He talks?" I didn't know scavengers could talk.
"And could someone please fill me in on this 'scavenger' term?" I said half-heartedly jokingly to again defuse the situation, but also half serious.
"Hey! Be respectful to Queen Glory!" My warden whipped his tail around and rattled the cage, making a resounding thud and what sounded like a rattlesnake. I promptly backed away and shut up.
"Three moons, Heliconia. Don't treat our one talking scavenger like that."
But then I blinked rapidly, realizing what my warden just said. "Wait a minute, you're Queen Glory?"
She shook her wings before splaying them before me.
"The one and only."
"Okay." I nodded, looking down. "I figure I might share some intel then..."