The Life of Livana Garmadon

September 3rd, 2023

"Come to think of it, Fang," I looked over at the dragon master, who was making dust paintings against the dirt ground. "you never told me about... regular schedule. What does that mean?"

Fang visibly stiffened again, and his voice was soft when he said, "C-Can we please not talk about this right now?"

I inhaled deeply and then shook my head. "Sorry, Fang, but based on the way you're acting... I think that it would be better for me to know. So, please, can we talk about it? We don't have to go fast. We can go slow. Is that okay?"

Fang swallowed and then looked over at me. "They extract blood from you."

"Blood?" I frowned, "Why would they take blood from us...?"

"I don't know." Fang shook his head, "But they've taken me, at least once a day, to take blood from me." He rolled up his shirt sleeve and I bit down a gasp when I saw a big bruise, purpling at the edges and small golden veins spreading along it, on the inside of Fang's elbow. "They're somehow taking my powers... but I don't know how."

"Because your powers are in your blood. That's a possibility. But why would they want your powers?" I gently took Fang's arm in mine and then hesitated, "Can I?"

"As long as it doesn't hurt too bad."

I gently ran my fingers along the bruise, making Fang inhale sharply, but he didn't pull away. His skin felt oddly hot there, while the rest of his body was cold. I looked up at him. "Have you been taking care of this bruise? I mean, you don't know what's happening. They might be injecting you with something instead of extracting blood from you."

"Or both." Fang grimaced.

"You should get that bruise properly treated though." I said, "It could be dangerous and risky to your health."

"Highly doubt that they'll care." Fang responded.

"If they keep feeding us these nutritious things and wanting us to be strong, then I think that your health would be important to them, too." I pointed out, "Even though it's clearly not for a good purpose."

Fang raked his hair back, tugging his sleeve over his bruise again.

"Is that all they do?" I asked, "Draw blood and possible injection?"

"So far." Fang's voice was low.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that alone." I put a hand on Fang's shoulder. "Do you have a fear of needles? Is that why you're so scared?"

"I mean, I was never one for needles because it's pointy and who wants that near you, right? But I don't think I have a severe fear of needles." Fang rubbed the back of his neck with a sort of sheepish expression, "Although I might if we ever leave this place."

"When. And I'll help you." I pressed one hand to my forehead, "I'm tired of this place. I can't believe I say this, but whatever the weird ghost gang that Morro and Rattlesnake serve down here will never be as good as Cole's cooking."

"I thought you didn't like the Earth Ninja's cooking?" Fang said, even though a faint smirk curled up on his lips.

"At least his food tastes like home." I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"I miss home, too. Or, what I call home." Fang smiled, "It's just this old apartment, but I had all the privacy in there I needed. Sometimes I practiced shifting. Even into a small dragon form would suffice. But when I tried, I left claw marks on the wall and got a pounding headache that left me in bed for 24 hours."

"Did you at least get your form?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I think so. I saw wings and my fingernails turned sharper, but I don't think I was fully a dragon." Fang shrugged one shoulder. "Oh well."