It had been a few months since those adventurers freed me from the dragon's dungeons. The memory of walking past the mass graves of the other prisoners, and the great blue corpse that had been my jailer until then still burns fresh in my mind. It's no surprise that my dreams still take me back to that damned cell. But I should be thankful I got to see the sun again at all.
The adventurers that had slain the dragon looked upon me with horror once I had stepped into the light. I hadn't been able to take a good look at myself for a long time, so when I glanced down I took on the same shocked and disgusted expression that they wore. My shaky legs supported a body I barely recognized, emaciated and discolored, most of my skin looked like it was severely bruised, that was until you caught sight of the hundreds of crisp blue scales poking bloody holes through my skin.
As soon as they saw me one of the warriors, a knight I assumed, drew his blade and approached as if to attack. But the woman that let me out of the cell and into the light had told him to stop. Said that I was a prisoner. Her name is Olvia, and it was only in the light of day that I could see her beauty through the dust that caked her clothes and hair. She was an elf. Tall, bronzed skin and green eyes all topped by nut brown hair, a look that unmistakably marked her as one of the forest folk. She was the one that helped me clean my ruined flesh, and wrapped me in bandages. By the time she had finished I ended up looking like a leper. But for the first time in years, I actually felt like a person again.
Olvia asked me what my name was. I hadn't spoke in months, and my voice sounded dry and rasping. Leaves across cobblestone. "Roan" I said. The first time I had spoken my name in memory. And from there we have been together since. She split from her fellow adventurers not long after the dragon's lair, seeing as it seemed her and her human companions weren't too fond of each other. But from what I could remember our kinds never really got along anyway. But as she went to leave she did ask me if I would like to come with her. I had no idea what to do. Everyone else either avoided me or looked upon me with a mixture of pity and disgust. But not her. For whatever reason she spoke freely to me. And seeing no other place to go, I agreed to travel with her.
And for the next few months it was just her and I. At first she had to help me walk, as I was so weak I could barely stand. But as the weeks past and I began to eat real food again I slowly gained back some strength. From her supporting me, to leaning upon a sapling made into a makeshift walking stick, to using a makeshift cane I slowly improved. Olvia helped tend to my bandages, and my skin even began to look marginally better. But it never healed. Scales would grow in and fall out, leaving bloody holes dotting my skin. Though I am rarely comfortable, this life is still a thousand times better than waiting to expire in that dank hole.
So we settled into a rhythm. Wake up, walk until I could no longer bear it, stop, wash, eat, and rest. I couldn't tell you why she tolerates me. We don't speak all that much. But I can tell she cares. And for now, that is all I can ask for. But now I start to wonder more. Now, I want to talk.
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