main . statistics . story . hatchlings . adults Main Fending for Ourselves is one of my darker stories. It has quite a few sensitive subjects, but that was what I felt like writing with. It is given an overall rating of PG-13, though, as it isn't too graphic. Statistics Name: Menma Yrenvar Trey Zre Kret Yrenvar Basva Yrenvar Age: 24 24 20 18 Gender: Female Male Male Female Appearance: Menma is tall and willowy, always able to stand out in crowds due to her height. She has waist-length brown hair and grey eyes, which are slightly tilted. She has a slender body that is decidedly feminine, though she is often embarassed by it. Trey is tall and skinny, though rather nondescript. He has short platinum blond hair and vibrant blue eyes. He has a rather wiry frame and is unnoticeable otherwise. Kret is tall and muscled, though subtly so. He has short black hair and tilted grey eyes like his sisters'. He has the look of a powerful warrior and has no problem flaunting such. Basva is short and stocky, quite contrasting to her other siblings. She has short black hair and tilted grey eyes. She has a decidedly feminine body with prominent curves, which she loves to flaunt. Clothing: Menma generally wears whatever she can get. She does not really care if it is clean or dirty, so long as it is presentable. She often wears oversized hooded sweaters over t-shirts and jeans. When she is cold, she is quick to don a toque, scarf and mitts. So long as the colours do not clash horribly, she will wear it. Trey has a small amount of t-shirts, zip-up sweaters and jeans which are slightly too short. He does not need to think about colour-coordination, as most of his clothes are orange, blue or black. He is not very fashion-conscious. Kret wears what he can find with the least amount of effort. He likes baggy jeans, t-shirts and high-necked sweaters. He likes bright colours and sporty logos on his clothing, though he does not often object against what is given to him. Basva wears whatever is girliest. She enjoys wearing skirts and flirty outfits. Her favourite colour to wear is pale blue, though she also likes purple and pink. She sometimes gets into trouble due to her attire, but she does not care. Personality: Menma is a born leader. She is rather compassionate and sympathetic, though she sometimes has a fit of selfishness. She wants nothing more than to belong, yet she does what she must. She is outspoken and proud, with a sarcastic sense of humour. Trey is quiet and comprehending. He can take the lead when he needs to, but he prefers to help and stay out of the spotlight. He is very intelligent and excels in academic subjects such as mathematics. He has a quick sense of humour and enjoys making others happy. Kret is quiet and loyal. He is sensitive and sympathetic, sometimes finding things too overwhelming. He is not the best at academic subjects and sometimes struggles, yet he is far from unintelligent. He likes to take part in the martial arts, yet is terrified of being hurt and/or hurting others. Basva is loud and arrogant. She always wants things to be done her way and on her schedule. If she wants something, it has to be done when she demands it. She is often selfish and has trouble making friends due to her irritating habits. Story "You said she was getting better." Menma accused, glowering at the doctor over her cup. One: shock. "We thought so too. Come now, Menma, you knew she was getting worse. She told you she was dying." The doctor said calmly. Two: denial. "She's not dead!" The girl shouted, standing up, then dropped back in her seat, "If she is, it's your fault!" Three: anger. "You killed her!" Menma screamed and fled from the room. She stirred in her sleep. "Dad, wake up." Menma called, opening the door, "You're going to be late for work." He did not move. One: shock. "Dad!" Menma called again and shook his shoulder. Two: denial. "Get up, dad, get up!" She panted, wrenching his shoulder back and forth, "Get up, god damn you!" Three: anger. "Kret! Get me the phone!" She shouted, whirling from the bed, "Hurry!" She groaned and rolled over in her sleep. "Menma Yrenvar, you are hereby granted official custody of Kret Yrenvar and Basva Yrenvar." She sat up, eyes flying open as she moved. She was panting, her chest heaving in terror. Then she calmed and looked to her left and right. She then listened attentively and heard the soft sound of three people breathing. Her brother, her sister, her boyfriend; good, they were still alive. She sighed then and lay back. That had happened four years ago. She had just turned eighteen and become an official adult. She moved in with her boyfriend and together they supported her siblings. Her brother had been fourteen, her sister twelve. But that was all over and done with. Now they could all provide for themselves and her siblings were due to move out soon. She would worry and she would fret. She felt very protective and she did not want to lose them. She would find it hard to let them go. She lay back beside her boyfriend and he hugged her shoulders with one arm. She put an arm across his chest and hugged him back. They would pull through. They had to. "We'll pull through," Menma declared, looking at her somber siblings as they stood in the empty house. She did not add 'we have to', as she did not want to frighten them more. She took a deep breath and continued, "we're stubborn and smart, we can pull through." Basva and Kret simply stared glumly at her through their black bangs. They needed haircuts, she noted glumly. Another part of her salary gone. With that and university tuition... there would barely be enough for food. "And I'll help." Trey murmured from behind her, hugging her tightly. "You don't have to." Menma countered softly, looking at him. "I want to. Your family's my family, we'll find a way to deal with this." He said softly. Menma helped carry her brother's things into his new dorm. He was a university student now and he had made enough friends to feel comfortable in a dorm. She dropped the bags with a small smile as she looked around the room. It was plain, but it had a good feel to it. He would be happy there. "That's the last one." She said with a smile for her little brother. Kret beamed at her and gave her a hug, "Take care of yourself." He told her when she let go. "You too." She smiled. "Basva, Kret, I have something to tell you..." Their mother sighed. Kret looked up instantly. This was serious. Their mother never sounded so sad or serious. Sure, she sounded sadder and more serious lately but not this sad or serious. "I'm... sick... again." She stammered, beginning to cry. Kret blinked. Again? Right. Last time she was sick, he was six years old. Basva had been four. She had beat it that time, though. She would beat it again! "We'll get through it." He whispered. Kret woke from his sleep and looked around. He heard his roommate Invar snoring and relaxed. He was in his dorm room, with his room mates. As he had been the other times he had woken up in the past two years. "Take that there." Basva ordered, pointing. Menma grumbled and obeyed, placing the last of the bags precisely where she was ordered. Her sister had just chosen to go into the dormitories without knowing anybody. As such, she was assigned random people to share with. "Good." Basva nodded. "Don't annoy your roommates too much, Basva. I doubt we'll let you move back in." Menma teased and hugged her sister, "But, really, take care." "Dead?" Menma whispered. Basva trembled. Her father could not be dead! He was strong, he had been in the military! She had never seen him cry, even. He... he could not be dead! "He's not dead!" Basva screamed and leaped forward and punched the doctor. Basva shivered and woke up. She could not sleep much now. She took a deep breath and rolled over. It was all ancient history now. Trey was the only one not troubled by nightmares. He supported Menma when she needed it and they were happy. He had just finished his university, as had she. He planned to become an engineer and she was to be an English teacher. Life looked good and they were finally beginning to think they had put the bad things behind them. There was a day when someone came to their door and Menma was feeling ill. So, Trey opened the door and greeted the stranger. "Hello, my name is Shailey, may I have a word with you and your wife?" The brown-haired woman asked. Trey stared at her in surprise. He and Menma had just gotten married in a very small ceremony a week before. Only five friends from each side and their direct family. It had not been mentioned in the press or anywhere else. How had she known? "Well?" She demanded. Trey looked calmly at her, "My wife is not feeling well. Besides, we don't want to buy anything." "Good thing I'm not selling anything." The woman retorted, "And I will have a word with you, Trey Kre." "How do you know who I am?" Trey snarled. "I know quite a bit about you, now let me in." She said firmly. Trey let her in reluctantly. Perhaps she planned to blackmail him? But what with? "I'll go get Menma." He said tersely, closing the door. He walked down to the bathroom where she was kneeling on the floor. She looked rather pale and was shivering slightly, but she pulled herself to her feet anyways. He held her steady. "Honey, are you alright?" He whispered. She nodded, swallowing. He looked nervously at the door, "A stranger by the name of 'Shailey' is here. She wants to talk to us." He said. "You let a stranger in?" Menma demanded in a low voice. Trey took a deep breath, "She seems trustworthy enough." Menma nodded and gripped his arm, "Let's not keep her waiting." She stated and quickly brushed her teeth before following. He extended his arm often to keep her steady but she resisted to let him help her more than that. She could walk on her own. But her mind was elsewhere... such as the source of her illness. The woman looked surprisingly normal, though Menma knew she was not as ordinary as she seemed. What would a stranger want with her? She had never had a stranger show up on her doorstep. Not in the past four years, anyways. "Hello." The stranger said with a smile, "I took the liberty of sitting, I hope you don't mind." She was sitting in their only sofa chair, so they sat on the sofa across the room. They were leather, as they had taken the sofas her father had. The bed they had was the one she had had growing up, as both her parents' beds would have been too meaningul to her. Most of the furniture they had was hand-me-downs, same with the things her siblings had taken. "I will be brief, but this will not be easy to comprehend." The woman warned them and Trey put a protective arm around Menma. "Go on." Menma said evenly. "There are a certain few people in the world who are... different, so to speak. They are more sensitive to the feelings of others and have very open minds. They are... like you two, if I may say so." The woman began. She leaned back and crossed her legs, lacing her fingers together over her knee. "Now, there are also creatures on other worlds that seek out these minds at birth. Most of them need the support of another mind to survive. Some of these creatures make it the point of their lives to find suitable people for their kind. Some of these creatures are even bonded to people. For that is what they do, bind another mind to theirs in an eternal partnership." Trey tensed, "Why are you telling us this?" He demanded. "Because, Mr. Kre, I am one of these people bonded to such a creature. A dragon, to be exact." She said firmly, "And my dear Alfirinth says that one of her kind is going to want you. One for each of you, at least." "There are no dragons on Earth." Menma snapped. The woman nodded, "True, but there are many on other worlds." Menma closed her eyes for a moment, her ears ringing suddenly. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself and concentrate again. When she opened them, Trey was looking at her worriedly. "What do you want to do?" He asked. "You would be returned here, to this very day if you wish, if you want to. All we ask is that you try at least once." The woman said quickly. Menma looked at Trey, "I see no reason not to try... Trey?" He glanced at the woman, then at Menma, then back at the stranger. "A word in private, Menma?" He asked. The stranger nodded and left the room, going down the hall and out of earshot. "What are you thinking, Menma? We can't trust her!" Trey whispered furiously. "If she really is what she says she is, she will need her draconic bond to take us to where she wants us to go. If she doesn't, then she is a liar." Menma said calmly. "What about your work?" Trey asked. "What work?" Menma replied miserably, "Being a teacher? I was only a last resort. What do we have to lose, Trey?" He looked at her and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, "If you say so..." He then smiled, "No harm in trying." "We'll go." Menma raised her voice to be heard by the woman. "Ah, good!" The woman said with a nod, "We'll be meeting two others on the way, so I hope you don't mind. We have to go into the country to meet Alfirinth, as she is too big to come into the city. Hurry and pack, please, we leave at once." Kret was surprised to see Basva at the bus stop in the middle of nowhere. He was there to meet Shailey again, so he could leave Earth and his failing attempt at becoming a computer engineer. She said that a dragon, somewhere, sometime, would want him as a friend for eternity. He had jumped at the opportunity. "What are you doing here?" Basva snapped, her many belongings scattered around her in large suitcases. "I was going to ask you the same." Kret muttered. A soft warbling noise sounded behind them. Kret turned and stared off into the field. There, a giant winged lizard was staring at him. It was a bronzed green in colour and the sunlight shimmered off of it in nauseating patterns, making it vanish at times. Come here. A calm voice resonated in his mind, like Shailey's would through a long tunnel, I won't bite. My name is Alfirinth. My bonded is coming, with some you know. Kret picked up his few things and started across the field. Basva started yelling at him, but Kret ignored her. She had wanted to bring so much stuff. It was time she started to fend for herself. You and that one - your sister? - will go to Star City Dragonry. The dragon told hm as he approached, Just put those beside me, Shailey will arrange all of them evenly when she gets here. "Who are the others?" Kret asked nervously, looking around. Your other sister and her mate. He could have sworn the dragon grinned as she opened her mouth and looked at him. Kret coughed and scuffed his foot. So, are you just going to stand here and let her struggle across the field? The dragon chuckled. Kret looked at where Basva was carrying her four suitcases in a spurt of energy. Then she stopped to glare and continued after catching her breath. Honestly, she would need to change her attitude. Yes, she will. And yes, I can read thoughts. The dragon nodded, Taking care of a hatchling is difficult work. Not for the faint of heart, either. I hope she does not mind getting dirty or cutting raw meat. Kret grinned broadly. Ah, well, that should be entertaining then. The dragon chuckled again, then straightened, There's my bonded, she comes. "Where?" Kret asked. The road, on a wheeled runnerbeast. The dragon seemed confused. "With many passengers?" Kret questioned. ...Yes. "That's a bus." Kret replied. Well, it should be within your sight... now. The dragon concluded just as Basva staggered up. Basva grumbled as she put down her suitcases. How did they expect her to carry all this by herself? She needed their help! She couldn't do all this on her own! You had better learn to, child. A voice - the dragon? - mocked. "What?" Basva demanded, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt. A dragon child will need more attention than a human baby. You had better stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about your responsibilities. You will need to bathe the child, feed the child and basically be its mother and best friend all at once. Basva froze. "I'll take care of it." She promised. Good, now. Here is your sister and her mate and my bond. The dragon observed. Basva squinted across the field and saw three humans making their way across the field. Her sister was carrying one suitcase, Trey was carrying two. How had they managed to pack so little? Eric had brought two, but she had brought four! By all rights, two people should have brought four to six. And why did she care so much, anyways? You are strange, human child. The dragon observed, waddling forward on ungainly legs to meet her bond. The meeting between the two was amazing, Basva found. Though it outwardly involved nothing more than a smile and a pet, she knew there was more to it. She wanted something like that. A friend that would never leave her, unlike all the others. "Alright, let's get going." The stranger announced. "Where are we going?" Trey asked, putting down his suitcases next to Basva and Kret's. "You two will be going to the Fur and Feathers Frenzy, on the world of Driolo. Kret and Basva will be going to Star City Dragonry, which is a spacestation in orbit." The stranger explained, "You will be able to visit easily." The dragon warbled and moved back near the suitcases, clearly impatient to get going. Under Shailey's direction they tied the suitcases to the harness the dragon was wearing using a system of nets and ropes. The dragon then tested the weight by doing a few practice rounds of the field. When she was content, they climbed aboard with Shailey closest to her bond's head and Trey farthest. "So this is Star City Dragonry..." Kret murmured to himself as he looked around. "Yep, the famous spacestation itself." Shailey agreed, "Come, I've reserved you rooms that have easy access to the Hatching Bays. You'll need to hurry to the hatching, you see. Star City's dragons wait for no one." Menma grabbed him in a ferocious hug, "When you get your dragon, little brother, feel free to come down and see us." She said with a smile, "We'll let you know if we fail." He hugged her back, "You won't fail." He said firmly, "We're too stubborn to fail." She laughed and patted him on the back. Then she went and hugged Basva. They exchanged words and then parted, Menma returned to Trey's side. Trey shook Kret's hand firmly, "See you someday, little brat." He said affectionately, then tousseled his hair. He only nodded to Basva. They had never gotten along too well, anyways. Basva got on Menma's nerves and Trey never liked anything that Menma did not. "Come along, those two will just stay with Alfirinth until I get you two settled in." Shailey said briskly, "And you're welcome to come to Enzan Shi Deragonray after you bond, that is where Alfirinth and I live. It is also where Menma and Trey will go if they bond." They walked in silence after that. Shailey's constant use of the word 'if' was beginning to bother Kret. What if she was right? What if he did not bond? But he could always try. When Shailey left him and Basva outside their rooms, he felt a small sense of loss. But he would be able to contact his sister. All he had to do was write a letter and ask around a bit. People at Star City could do anything, he had heard. "I.. feel like I've betrayed them." Menma sighed, looking up at the sky of Driolo towards the spacestation. Trey glanced at her, "Why do you say that?" He asked. "I've... let them go off into the world, unattended." She smiled slightly. "The fledgelings have left the nest." Trey told her and hugged her around the shoulders, "And for the first time in eight years you can be you again." Menma nodded and turned away from the sky, "Finally." She teased. Trey laughed and gestured at the variety of tents set up on the dry surface of the world where the exotic dragons were staying, "It's like a dream, isn't it?" "I don't want to wake up." Menma smiled. For the first time in eight years, she did not want to wake up from a dream. And it felt good to her, it felt right. She squeezed Trey's hand and took a step away from their assigned room. "Come on, I want to see a real dragon." She said jovially. Star City Dragonry . Fur & Feathers Frenzy Hatchlings Kret's fingers felt numb, as he waited in the dark and rancid room. It was called a Hatching Bay, had been and would be once this fetid clutch had moved on. At the moment, however, he would have called it a lair. It was dark, the parents were far from 'good' and pretty close to 'evil', in his opinion. And he had no. idea. where. the little mongrel hatchlings were. Basva squeezed his hand even harder, making Kret wonder which of his fingers would snap off first. Of course, she was not squeezing hard enough for that. Yet. She was peering into the gloom as blindly as he, her eyes still unadjusted from the day shift lighting outside. He wanted the circulation back in his hand. Any moment now would be nice. But she squeezed even harder, if that was possible. He did not blame her, really. The hatchling, the first one to hatch, was a horrible little thing. It was chubby, looked like a triceratops and had eyes of fire. It also appeared malicious, underneath all that baby fat. It... waddled, to its chosen and Kret shuddered. He would not want such a... well, creepy! bond. There were only five eggs - thank goodness! - and one was not even showing much life. The first was gone, so that left four. The next three hatched at the same time, glinting in red, blue and purple. Their earlier sibling, Kret did not know - or care - about its gender, had been green. Had they been any less disturbingly evil, he would have called their colouring festive. Instead he bit back a hiss as Basva's other hand latched onto his arm and she dug in her nails. The last egg remained still, though its mother then turned her attentions to it by the time the purple bonded. She hit it a few times - Kret failed to see why, really - and it fell open in many places. Basva nearly wrenched his arm off. The hatchling could not be alive. Not in the sense of the word! It was a skeleton, a walking bloody flaming skeleton! Well, not bloody, but it was flaming. It had a powerful flame - or was it a fire? - in its ribcage, and its paws glowed. It looked like a fossil, though not yet bleached white. The ground wilted where it stepped. Basva trembled as the hatchling moved forward, surprisingly graceful in comparison to its siblings. Kret wondered if it had pseudo-flesh, like it appeared to have muscles. Could it bend and contort itself into shapes impossible of those of flesh and blood? Or was it bound by the same laws of reality, despite the fact that it could not be real itself? Kret realized that the hatchling knew who it wanted. People backed away or stood bravely, but it did not seem to care. It kept moving in that surprisingly graceful way, its flaming eye-sockets on only one person in the bays: him. Kret pried Basva's deathgrip from his arm and wrist, biting down on a sigh of relief when she let go and took six steps backwards. The huge hatchling - it was at least waist-high! - paused in front of him. Its voice was like none other. A peaceful quality to it, as well as a whispering wheeze and a sound of wisdom and age. It could be compared to the voice of a ghost, if a ghost had a voice. And its voice was in Kret's mind. ~You will no longer sleep poorly, boy.~ It - he! - said finally. Kret's mouth felt dry. He gulped unconsciously and nodded curtly. The hatchling's name was Raniace. ~Come.~ Raniace beckoned, though it was more a calm demand, and followed his fellows. Kret knew the dragon was not hungry, but he still seemed to want the company of his kin. He also knew that Raniace would never raise his voice above that a commanding whisper. And he knew that Basva would never come nearer to the skeletal wraith than she had to. Which was all fine with him, really, as he would need a few days to regain all movement to his arm. Basva was in a sour mood when she stepped into the bay. She usually was nowadays, she realized, ever since Kret bonded that... monster! She rubbed at her shoulders as she stood, alone, on the soft floor of the hatching bays. Yet again. Alone. How she hated being alone. She had been listening to the dragon-riders whenever she could. In bars, or in hallways. She was getting quite good at listening instead of talking. Maybe this dragon really could change her life. No, that was nonsense. The eggs of the Dark Court clutch were rocking. The mother was a spiny ferocious beast. Not as frightening as Raniace, surely, but still quite menacing. She wondered, vaguely, why her brother and her had attracted such... sadistic dragons. Not her, yet, but something told her she would face the same fate. Even if she did not believe in fate. The first dragonet to hatch was an elegant gold, dark enough to seem bronze at first glance. She was completely void of spikes, tusks and spines; those would come with age. As she was, she was beautiful. Even the smouldering eyes did not frighten Basva as the dragonet moved elegantly and proudly towards the candidates. The dragonet stopped at Basva's very feet, looking her straight in the eye, ~Hmph, well. You've got enough spirit. Come with me.~ She commanded. Basva followed Relevath obediently, not even realizing what she was doing at first. Then she halted. This dragon was not going to turn her into a mindless crony! She would not come at its beck and call and she most certainly would not serve it. ~This dragon has decided that its stomach is rumbling. Now move, or I'll leave you behind.~ The dominant creature growled, ~We'll have our share of fights, girl, but in the end you will respect me and I you. That is how it always ends, after all. Do not make me doubt that I can someday learn to like you.~ Basva bared her teeth in an attempt at a smile and shoved past the dragon. "You coming?" She shot over her shoulder. Dragon Stats: [Menma] [Trey] Name: Raniace Bonded to: Kret Yrenvar Gender: Male Colour: Ancient Anahatan (Anahatan for 'emotional power') Breed: Undead Dracolich-Skeletal Mutt Abilities: Ice Magic, Fear Aura, Sleep Magic, Warding Size: Extra-Large Height: 30' Length: 60' Genetic Rating: Not Available Personality: Raniace is wise beyond his years, which might be expected for a dragon that looks like he was recently unearthed after a few million-years nap! This dragon, despite his fearsome appearance, is gentle-'hearted', but with a commanding presence. Kret's life will certainly never be the same after bonding a dragon like this! Cyborware: Raniace may not redeem a cyborware token, unfortunately, as his body structure won't allow for it! Name: Relevath Bonded to: Basva Yrenvar Gender: Female Colour: Dark Gold Breed: Vella Crean Dark Court Abilities: Telepathy, Teleportation, Verbal Speech, Venomous Sting, Venemous Bite Size: Gold-Sized Height: 29' Genetic Rating: Not Available Personality: As loud and demanding as Basva has ever been, you'd think that she and Relevath would make the perfect pair. Well... when their demands coincide, they can make a devastating team, but unfortunately, Relevath is often off on her own tangent, which can be very, well, demanding! Keep her in check and all should be good. Hopefully Basva will learn a thing or two from her, and vice versa! Cyborware: Relevath may redeem one minor cyborware token upon adult-hood. Adults Kret momentarily wondered what in hellfire he was supposed to do with Basva and Relevath. In the few years they had been on the spacestation, the two had turned into a malevolent force of prissiness. Raniace was still just as creepy as before, yet very wise as well. He always managed to come out on top when Relevath decided to take him on, though he pretended to take way too much pleasure in it. The truth was, Raniace was a big creepy sissy. He was like an older brother, for all that he could probably talk about quantum physics to any physician and hold his own. Raniace protected him and, as odd as that sounded to Kret, he liked it. They were closer than any brothers could be, certainly closer than Kret had ever been to his sisters. As it was, Raniace was watching him a little boredly from where he was lying near the back of their suite. The large skeletal mutt did not like to crowd the doorway. He also made a point not to stand when others entered as the first few times he had done so, said others ran away screaming. Every time, Kret's heart went out to his bond. It was Raniace's fault he was so... creepy. ~You think that often of me.~ Raniace stated, ~Do not pity me.~ Kret nodded automatically. He always followed Raniace's counsel. More like a friendly mentor than an older brother, the dragon was. They often engaged in philosophical debates when neither could sleep. Now that was something Kret had never been able to do with his sisters! Raniace's mind indicated amusement, ~Your younger clutchmate would never be able to discuss as we do. Too impatient, I'm afraid. I hold my judgement of your older clutchmate until I actually meet her face to face.~ "Face to face?" Kret grinned, "So you've been spying, have you?" ~Watching.~ Raniace ammended. "What did you learn?" Kret asked. ~That is between me and her.~ The dragon responded curtly. The young man chuckled. However his dragon did everything to keep his creepy demeanor around others, Raniace was really soft on the inside. Which looked to be air, or fiery smoke, to the eyes. In fact, Kret even doubted that Raniace had any insides. ~You would be surprised.~ Raniace replied irritably.