The Colors were fading. Every day, Myath grew weaker, and every day, the Colors lost their brilliance and luster. It was this realization that caused Myath to despair. Not the cold chains nor the spell-enhanced muzzle on her snout filled her with the terror she now felt as her world grew ever more dismal and gray.
She should have listened to Hyan. Her mentor had warned her that it was dangerous to be this far south in her dragon form. But Myath had dismissed Hyan's warning as the paranoia of an old woman still traumatized by the raids of her youth. She had thought that times were different now. She hadn't realized that the trappers in the South used enchantments.
"Well, if you aren't mellow today. Has your spirit already broken?"
The voice of one of her captors sent chills from her wings to her tail. She swung her head around as far as the chains would allow. There he stood, wearing the ankle-length, brown coat he had worn since he captured her. At least, it should have been brown. All Myath could see was a faint, brownish-gray. And the deep maroon aura that had surrounded him when she first saw him was now a dusty pink-gray color. It pained her to not be able to see his Color properly--she would have to determine his emotions and intentions using only his tone of voice and facial expressions.
He smirked. "Look at you. It's almost as if you understand me."
Myath stiffened. Had she really been that obvious?
He studied her, then frowned. "You look different." He tilted his head and peered at her, then walked around to the front of her cage to get a better look. He stroked his short, coarse beard as he narrowed his eyes.
Myath squirmed under his scrutiny. What exactly about her looked different? She was stuck in her dragon form, unable to change back due to the enchanted muzzle, so there was little chance she had begun to revert back.
His face brightened, and he pointed a finger at her. "Your color. It's different." He looked her up and down. "You were unmistakably blood red when we captured you. But now it's fading."
An arrow of fear pierced Myath's heart. Was her color really fading? Or could this man be one of the rare humans who could see Colors? Either way, she was in more trouble than she had realized. She had noticed that she had been shedding scales at an alarming rate from the unbearable stress, but, with her ability to see Colors diminishing by the hour, she had no way of knowing what her color looked like to the average observer.
Her captor's face grew serious and thoughtful. "I've heard stories," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Of a people far to the North. A people who are neither human nor dragon."
No. No. No. He couldn't know her identity. She couldn't let anyone know of her people's secret. They would be more than hunted, more than captured; the very existence of her people would be threatened. She couldn't let that happen.
Myath held still, letting her eyes glaze over, trying her best to look the part of a dumb animal. For several long, agonizing moments, it seemed as though he might call her bluff. But then then he shook his head, muttering to himself. "No, that's impossible."
He ran his fingers through his greasy hair and sighed. "Guess I better talk to the Chief about adjusting your diet." He turned away, stopped, and looked back. "Don't go anywhere," he said before walking away, chuckling at his own joke.
Despair evolved into rage. Myath lifted her head and strained against her chains. The cold iron dug into her skin, scraping off scales to expose tender flesh beneath. Every movement chafed and burned, but still she pulled at her restraints.
Her burst of activity drained her energy much more quickly than she anticipated. She slumped to the floor of the cage, doing her best not to cry. Crying in dragon form was painful, too painful for her weakened self to bear. So instead she curled up and held in shuddering sobs.
Some time later, Myath opened her eyes to find that the sun was beginning to set. She must have fallen asleep without realizing it. She started to stretch, then immediately regretted it. The cuffs dug into her raw skin, making it burn with pain.
As she carefully rubbed at the cuffs with her muzzled snout, a faint glint caught her eye. Pausing, she looked up to see what it was.
A single, tiny, glowing light bobbed up and down just outside the iron bars. Its little light winked and dimmed, then brightened.
Myath let a puff of warm air escape her nostrils. It was just a firefly. She almost closed her eyes again but did a double take.
The firefly split into three, then each split into three again. Then again, until there were so many fireflies bobbing around the cage it was lit as if by several lanterns. Myath sat up, watching intently.
One by one, the fireflies gently touched Myath before dancing away. As each firefly came away from her, it changed colors. First green, then gold, then red, then blue, then purple; each color more complex than the last. When the final firefly darted away, carrying a beautiful color of amaranth, Myath blinked in surprise. She could see the Colors again.
There was no time to waste. Myath looked down at the muzzle encircling her snout. It was difficult to see it, but there was a faint aura of murky yellow-green. With an internal smirk, Myath lifted a paw and changed the aura to her signature lavender. The enchantment broke, and the muzzle fell off her snout, harmless.
Next, Myath attempted to change form. She inhaled, closed her eyes, and visualized her human form. She imagined looking in a mirror and seeing her copper-red, elbow-length hair, emerald-green eyes, and defined, freckled cheekbones.
Nothing. Myath opened her eyes and looked down at her shackled paws. What had gone wrong? She had never had trouble changing forms before. Was she really that weakened by her several days of captivity?
Myath squinted to get a better look at her paw in the growing darkness. It seemed dramatically paler than before. Her scales sometimes changed color with her emotions, but never had she looked like this. Maybe she would have to approach things differently?
Another deep breath. This time Myath kept her visualization more general, focusing on having human limbs and features rather than her specific visage. The change came easily, her gargantuan form shrinking, slipping comfortably into her human skin. The dragon-sized shackles fell to the wooden floor with a clunk.
Myath inspected her arms for any abnormalities, but the light had faded enough that she couldn't make out if anything was different. She shook her head. No, now was not the time to worry about what she looked like. She had to get out of the cage and away from the camp before she was discovered. She would have to ask Hyan about it once she was safe at home.
Getting out of the cage turned out to be much easier than she had anticipated. Now that she was in her human form, she could see that the bars of the cage were far enough apart for her to slip through. The cage had been made to hold a dragon, after all.
Soon she was out of the cage and hiding in the shadow of a nearby tent. Myath took deep breaths as she figured out her next step. From what she could tell, the camp she was in was that of a typical merchant caravan, though a bit larger than average. As long as she found a way to blend in, she should be able to leave the camp unnoticed. After all, no one would suspect that the young woman walking around the camp was actually the escaped dragon.
I've heard stories of a people far to the North. A people who are neither human nor dragon. Her captors words filled her memory, and doubt crept into her mind. What if...? No. She shook her head. The risk of discovery was low. And, if she played it right, even he wouldn't suspect that she was actually the dragon.
Placing one hand on the rough canvas of the tent, Myath crept to the corner and peered around the edge. A bonfire burned in the middle of the camp, casting flickering light several rows of tents away. Torches placed intermittently among the tents provided further lighting that left patches of shadow here and there.
A current of orange Color floated between two of the tents. It was difficult to make out the exact shade in the dark, though, so she couldn't tell what it meant. Myath stepped out to get a closer look, then tripped as she banged her shin against something in the dark. Hissing between her teeth, she rubbed her shin and looked at the empty pail she had tripped over. One of the setbacks of being in her human form was tripping over things in general.
"Can you believe Janus?" A male voice came from a few tents down. "This is the fifth time I've told him I can't digest turrin root, and yet he still puts it in the stew."
In a panic, Myath scooped up the pail and scrambled to her feet. She held the bucket in front of her and bowed her head, then walked forward as if with purpose. She passed by the two merchants as the man's companion, a woman, remarked, "Well, maybe he would stop putting it in if you stopped putting toads in his boots."
She waited until they were a good distance behind her, then darted between two tents, out of their line of sight. She glanced behind her to see if she had been followed. No one. Myath breathed a sigh of relief, then turned and promptly collided with someone.
"Watch it, girl!"
Myath froze at the familiar sound of his voice. She looked up to see his face staring down at her, annoyance screwing his bushy eyebrows together. She licked her lips. He was much more intimidating now that he was a full head taller than her.
She ducked her head. "I--I'm sorry," she said, trying her best to sound as timid and subservient as possible. Hopefully her human form, combined with her humble attitude, would make her forgettable.
He brushed nonexistent dust off his long coat. "What are you doing near the private tents? The mess pavilion is on the other side of camp."
Myath scrambled to come up with a believable lie. "Uh, I..."
He looked up and got a good look at her for the first time. "Wait, who are you?"
Myath stiffened, then immediately tried to relax. "I work with the cooking staff. I don't blame you if you don't remember me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'm pretty sure I'd notice it if there was an albino maid in our camp."
What? Albino? Myath grabbed a lock of her hair and held it in front of her face. Sure enough, her hair was pure white; glistening and completely colorless. Dropping the pail, she examined her hands and nails. She had always had somewhat fair skin, but never had her skin looked as white as the snow that topped the mountains near her home.
A familiar deep maroon aura filled her vision and Myath groaned inwardly. She looked up to see him staring at her, his arms folded across his chest.
"You seem oddly surprised," he said, his voice taking on a tone of suspicion.
Before she could reply, shouts of alarm came from the direction of the cage. "The dragon is gone!"
"Who let it out?"
"The cage is still locked!"
"So are the chains!"
"Has anyone seen it??"
Myath took a tentative step backwards. The man glanced in the direction of the cage, then back at her. His face went slack as he made the connection.
"You're the dragon," he said in realization.
Time to go. Myath turned on her heels and bolted.
"Wait!"
She hadn't made it past one tent before he grabbed her wrist, yanking her to a stop.
"Let go!" She strained to free her wrist, but his grip was too strong. Myath raised her free hand in preparation to wipe away his aura and put him to sleep, then stopped. His maroon Color had swirls of pink mixed in. He wasn't angry, greedy, or lustful. He was curious.
She relaxed slightly and stared him straight in the eyes. "Release me," she demanded.
"Don't worry," he said, loosening his grip without letting go. "I may be a greedy merchant, but I have standards. And I have a policy against human trafficking." He then finally let go, looking her up and down. "Even if it is a half-dragon albino girl."
She rubbed her wrist briefly, then crossed her arms. "What do you want, then? I don't exactly plan on sticking around."
He rubbed the back of his neck, and shades of beige mixed in with the pink. Shame. "I, uh, wanted to apologize for capturing you. If I had known--"
"Maybe you should consider not capturing dragons in the first place," Myath interrupted. "They may not be half-human, but they don't really enjoy being captured and sold to circuses and militaries."
"How do you...?" He shook his head. "Right. Never mind."
"Is that all?" Myath placed a hand on her hip. "Or did you just chase me down to give me an embarrassed apology?" She studied his face, wondering if he would give in to the pink curiosity that was dominating his Color.
He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a man shouting to him from the direction of the cage. "Tharon! Your dragon is missing! Quit flirting and help us look!"
He sighed, then shouted "Coming!" before turning back to Myath. "You'd better go. Not everyone here shares my policy on human trafficking. And dragon or not, an albino would fetch a hefty price. Not quite enough to make up for the loss of a dragon, but--"
"I get it," Myath said, cutting off his rambling. The pink in his Color was growing, but shades of reseda green were creeping in. He was feeling disappointed and regretful.
She turned to leave, then stopped. "You won't tell anyone?"
He shrugged. "Who would believe me?"
She studied his expression for a moment longer, then gave him a grateful nod. She turned and left without another word, slipping into the darkness. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake, but there wasn't much else she could do. Hyan was not going to be happy about this.