Dragons, Dystopians, and Denial

"I mean," Elias said quickly, trying to defend his words and not annoy Jerica. "Your world is a lot different than mine. We have creatures, sure, but they're not..."

Make-believe? Yeah, he probably shouldn't say that, as much as he wanted to joke about it.

... Joke. This place truly was messing with his head. How was he so relaxed that he'd be thinking about jokes?

He decided to fill the short awkward pause with stories of his own.

"Earth has creatures that mutated from an old war, and I'm not sure how close it'd be to this world here, but we do have some 'mythical-like' creatures. Like, giant beetles, or fish with legs. Even meat-eating deer. Things like that. But no dragons. To me, a horse—even if extinct—is more believable than a dragon, and so is a unicorn, which is basically just a horse with a horn."

The words spilled rapidly out of his mouth, and he nervously looked over at Jerica to gauge her reaction.

“Meat eating deer...” she repeated slowly, trying to imagine what that would be like. And then she grinned. “That’s freaking badass!! I want one.”

And then she thought about the rest of what he’d said and looked at him. “And that’s a... stupid version of a myth. Horse with a horn? Pff. Lame. Unicorns would be terrifying if they existed. Legends say they used to visit wicked men and beat them to death with their own children. Like...” she made an awkward swinging version.

“But yeah, it depends on what country you’re in. Atraya is normal. Nykeria... I don’t really know what they have. They brought out a chijurru out of nowhere. Do you have those?”

Elias grinned, pleased that Jerica found his stories about the wildlife amusing. He made a mental note of that.

"Oh, deer," he said blankly, the pun leaving his mouth before going through his mental filter.

He moved on before hearing her reaction.

"And I'm not familiar with the chijurru. What are they?" he asked.

“They’re like...” how did she even describe a chijurru? It’d been traumatizing the only time she’d seen one. “Basically the size of Kaidren but tall instead of long. And they’ve got 5 eyes and this HORRIFIC stench and black sludge instead of blood that takes like eight hundred baths to get off you and teeth that are the size of me. They’re nasty things. I don’t know how Nykeria got one, honestly. They’re native to Cre...” she shouldn’t have said that. “...von.”

There was a small bout of silence that seemed to fill the nervous gaps between them.

"They sound terrible," Elias finally said. "I hope you—we—don't see them. Ever."

Something told him that Jerica had a personal encounter with these chijurru, but he didn't want to prod. And frankly, if she was terrified of them, so was he.

“Me either.” Finally something they could most emphatically agree on.

“So... why’s this earth place so bad?” She smiled to herself before continuing mischievously. “Are the deer taking over?”

Elias let out a small snort at her joke. "I wish it were that," he mused, then paused to think about the answer to her question.

It wouldn't be so bad if things turned out differently for him. And for that, he'd have to admit the basic answer that all rebels say.

... which was very ironic, considering his job was to eliminate rebellious dissent. But it wasn't like he ever vocally said these things out loud.

Until now, anyways. It wasn't like Jerica was associated with Earth in any way.

"There isn't freedom," he answered simply. "I can't choose my future; it's chosen for me. There are other things, too, but that about sums it up."

He glanced over at her.

"And what about Beirania?" he asked before she'd ask him to elaborate. "Do you like life here?"

He knocked the smile off her face as her mind snapped back to Atraya. To Levin. And Biryn. She subconsciously rubbed the scar on her left hip as they walked in silence for a moment. The constant reminder of what happened when she tried to say no.

“I mean... I’m a little bit of a special case.” She shrugged, looking at the trees they were approaching up on the right, because they were the only thing that gave her an excuse to not look at him. “But, like, in general it’s fine. We have good food. And my horse — he’s my boy.” She smiled, thinking about all the hours she’d spent with him. “And some people are good. Like Aerik.”

Jerica's answer stumped Elias. He knew when someone was deflecting and trying to not answer questions, because he did the same. Jerica was dancing around his question and seemingly trying to convince herself that life was fine, which made him think that no, she did not like life here.

It made him wonder why, but he knew everyone had their secrets and reasons.

"Sounds like you enjoy life here, then," he commented.

“Yeah.” Something like that. “It’s fine.”

By the time they got to the town, Jerica’s feet and back were aching. She took a deep breath, looking at the houses as they approached. Most still had candles lit inside — it wasn’t that long after dark.

“Look, when we get in there.” Jerica turned towards Elias. “They probably won’t be speaking a language you can understand. And you shouldn’t speak. Like, at all. Let me handle it.”

They walked in a comfortable silence for a while, heading towards the town and letting the trees pass them as they made distance. Finally, Jerica spoke up.

And it was about him not talking. Of course.

If he were her age, he'd probably argue and whine and complain, because teenage him wouldn't shut up. Jerica was luckily that Elias was the age and maturity he was at now.

"Sure," he said flatly, hiding the amused sarcasm in his voice. "I love being useless."

“Well, your uselessness isn’t exactly my fault,” she said dryly. “And I’m not sure exactly what sort of negotiations you think you can do in a language you can’t speak. Unless of course you happen to know Atraían?”

She didn’t wait for a response.

Instead, she pushed open the door to the tavern.

Jerica’s eyes flitted around the area. It was mostly barren, there were only 3 men sitting in the far corner nursing their mugs and chatting with one another. The barkeep was a tiny, aging lady with a thick girth.

“Do you have horses?” Jerica asked in Atraían, the language feeling smooth and sweet in her throat after all the months or having to speak the Trade Language.

The lady looked up to meet her and her eyes went wide. “Are you—?”

“No,” Jerica interrupted, giving the lady a reassuring smile. “An unfortunate resemblance I’m afraid. Do you have horses for sale?”

“Yes,” the lady answered. “I’ve got three to choose from.”

“I want two of them.” She plucked some coins from her purse and slid it across the bar to the lady.

Her eyes went wide again and she looked between Jerica and the money sitting in front of her. “Who are you?”

“How about...” Jerica slid two more coins across the counter. “You take that, and not worry about who I am.”

The lady took the coins and nodded.

“I want to see the horses,” Jerica said.

“Of course, yes.” The lady started towards the end of the bar but hesitated in front of Elias, unable to hide her curiosity. She met his gaze. “Who are you?”

Elias was eyeing the tavern they were in. He had been in places somewhat similar to this before, but that was only because he and the team had raided a village and took over. It was never peaceful like it was now, with folks from all walks of life sitting down and enjoying their drink.

He was somewhat paying attention to Jerica and the woman she was bargaining with, but it was no use since he didn't understand what they were saying.

He did understand the woman eyeing him and saying something to him. Or maybe it was about him? He had no idea. Jerica said she'd do all the talking, right?

Not knowing what to say or do, he gave a very awkward wave to the lady.

The lady narrowed her eyes. That wasn't a customary greeting. And the fact that he didn't speak. Her mind was clearly trying to piece the pieces together and she switched to the Trade Language. "Where... from?"

Oh. Now she can speak a language Elias could understand. If Jerica wanted him to not speak, she was doing a very bad job at taking control of the conversation, so he decided to answer.

"Nykeria," he answered plainly, hoping it wasn't a dumb answer.