Sapphire Wildfire yelled bloody murder out the bars she was trapped behind, cursing whoever could hear with language of all the colours and shades of the rainbow.
"Why the hell did you leave me locked up here with this idiot! At least give me my own cell! Or I'll rip his throat out myself!" she screamed but no one appeared to hear her. She turned back to the young boy sitting in the cell with her. At least they'd given both of them clothes before throwing them in there together.
"So, how long have you been stuck in a cavern for?" she asked him and he looked at her strangely, her language going through his mind as she adapted and learned. The next time he spoke he had perfected his thick, ineligible accent.
"A few hundred, thousand years. I was tied there through sigils in dragon form to ward those off from the Unnamed's tomb. So no one could wake him again." The man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties answered her.
"Looks like you failed then. Great job you had though. I hope the pay was good." She snorted. "I'm guessing you're also some kind of a linguist for you to be able to just adapt to my language."
"That is correct." He dipped his head as if nodding.
"Cool. Personally I prefer claws." She picked at her nails in disgust as her magic was dampened. The man next to her was rather ruggedly handsome, she supposed. Of course, the first thing she thought when she saw him was-
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"What the flipping heck is wrong with you?" she screamed at the man in front of her who was crouched down - blood running over his left hip, courtesy of her spiked tail - after shrinking from a fierce black, red and gold scaled dragon to a human with dark-brown hair with metallic red streaks and tan skin.
She had morphed back from her own dragon form after beating him around all over the place. She had left her hard, sparkling, aquamarine scales coating her skin, as her clothes had torn to shreds when first transforming. "You literally just bowled into me, do I look like a set of ten pins?" she berated him.
"You..." he panted, dirty fingers trailing over the torn skin etched with symbols on his left side. "...are like...me."
"No shit, Sherlock." She rolled her eyes. "Now are you going to help me find my friends or are you going to stay here all useless because let me tell you, you aren't a very effective door stopper."
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Sapphire hadn't expected to be overrun as soon as they left the cave and knocked unconscious. She also didn't expect what had happened when she'd woken up. She looked to the man next to her, knowing he would be the only person to talk to for however long her miserable time here would be.
"Hey you, pathetic and useless doorstop of a shapeshifter, what's your name?" she punched his shoulder as she plonked herself down next to him.
"Cian." he stated, pronouncing it Kee-an.
"Well, it's not totally pitiful." She complimented.
"Is that your way of flattering me?" he shot her a lopsided smirk.
"No, it's my way of lying." She replied and after a long wait, she said, "It's actually a pretty cool name. Better than Gordon anyway."
"Gordon?" he scrunched his face.
"Yeah, that's what my friends named you when they first saw you years ago." She shrugged and then paused, realizing he disliked the name. "Maybe that's what I'll call you then. Gordon."
He glared and she laughed. "Gordon." Sapphire repeated in every way she could remember there was to say or pronounce a word and in every accent she could muster. The look of pure detest on his chiseled features was the only joy she would be able to get out of being stuck in this cell.
YOU ARE READING
The Descendants; The Return of the Unnamed
Fan-FictionWar has come and the star players of the sanctuary's game have been taken off the board. Who will rise to the plate to win?
