Chapter Two: The Monster

Insert from Beast of No Nation: Studies of Dragonology: Radio Show (Segment Two)

[Western Dragons (sub-species): Commonly known around the world, the Standard Western Dragons can be found in the United New Nations. They can grow to about twice the size of the height of an adult human. The closest relative to these majestic beasts is the European Dragon and the two-legged Wyvern. This subspecies of a dragon is a lover of hoarding treasures (gold is the stereotypical expectation of their behavior as treasures can be anything they find valuable) and tend to have very violent behavior. Due to their aggressive natures, most have almost died out, unless they belong to the royal bloodline which hasn't been seen in almost 500 years. The new Standard Western Dragons as they are called now stem from the Western Dragon and have been bred to be a calmer type dragon.

The skin of these dragons is rough and scaly but varies in colors. The egg for the Standard Western Dragon is usually brown, red, or green, seeping smoke, very hot to the touch, and also very scaly. The royal bloodline of the Western Dragon was known to very rare and even their substandard cousin, the Standard Western Dragon is rare in comparison to other species. The Western Dragon was thought to be deadly and evil, but it was quite protective of its loved ones. Different from Eastern and Northern Dragons, this creature is friendlier than its counterparts being a suitable novelty on the human market as they make excellent nannies and housemaids.

However, though the Standard Western Dragon may be seen as a "gentle giant" compared to its distant relative, the Western Dragon, make no mistake that these creatures are every bit as powerful as any other dragon. Without proper care and treatment, they are more susceptible to being turned into "monsters" after long exposure to subpar conditions. (Please refer to segment fifteen for more details regarding "monster" mindset").]

~ Your host,

R. Draekos

Dragons, when Cyan was around ten, had been fully acclimated into the human world and three years later, the King had signed the Accord Agreements allowing them to be used as standard-issued weapons in the war. As a child, Cyan had imagined these prodigious beasts that roared black smoke and golden eyes were slitted like in the stories his mother used to tell him. Eragon was his reference to everything related to dragons. He often thought of this perfect bond between humans and dragons as they fought against evil, hunted down bad men, and saved beautiful princesses. Wistful thinking was all it was a child when realized just that nothing was more terrifying than a dragon disguised as a human and forced to hide its true form.

All his life, he was fed stories of how to defend oneself against a potent Dragon attack, read news reports like comic strips about the war casualties and how many humans died in the streets. Staring at their bodies, Cyan's stepmother picks the best time to walk bast only to see what he's reading over his shoulder. Snatching the newspaper in a huff, she begins to lector him about the dangers of reading too much fake news. Still, it doesn't stop him from tuning in every night to listen to the R. Draekos reports about the Dragon gangs that roam the streets of Providence D. Being at War with an entire species of creatures that hold more power than any human filled his imagination with both fear and timid admiration for their enemies that could look like a three-foot child and still rip your throat out while never lifting a finger. It was like watching a panther at the zoo through thick glass knowing that if the glass wasn't there, you'd be dead. You can feed and respect the distance of the wild beast and yourself, but was it enough to keep an animal caged that long, wouldn't it eventually strike? Well, the Army seemed to have found the answer to that question seemingly turning captive war prisoners into intelligent weaponized pets that could kill a man and still serve a hot supper.

It was completely normal.

Normal.

That is what Cyan repeated to himself to after going through continuous months of grueling training and was now ready to visit the Kennels for the first time to pick out a dragon. In awe, he wanders around the empty flat. The idea that the military paid for this still shocks him though he supposes that he won't be home often. Still, it is technically his place and the idea of being left to his own devices leaves him breathless.

Providence B was the home base of military operations stationed in the beautiful bayside area. Though it was nowhere near as glamorous as Providence A, Providence B was a bustling city with loud traffic, updated buildings, and many other things that he had only read about in newspapers. Cyan didn't often get to travel much and when the family did, it was usually to a nearby lake house his grandfather used to own. Providence B had always been the blinking ship lights on his horizon; now, being here felt a bit too big and too spacious.

His father had suggested he marry before his departure to solidify his status. It was a well-known rouse that often-got soldiers out of the more dangerous assignments and even civilian jobs if they were married- the King put an emphasis on procreation after the sudden decline in children around the third war nearly twenty years ago.

Because of illness and poor conditions, it was harder for people to raise families now especially in places like Providence D where more than half the children died before the age of ten of malnourishment or hunger. The King focused on the richer providences producing children since they had the resources to do so and support such a lifestyle. Since children were such treasures of the nation, it was often enforced that families were held to a better standard- they could earn incentives.

It was a common practice for young men to marry young women, but Cyan- who had just turned nineteen- couldn't imagine being held down by a wife and a child. Sorah was a beautiful woman now with fair skin and auburn hair that contrasted greatly with her green eyes. She was petite and cute: the perfect wife for any man. Cyan frowned realizing he had more chemistry with the mailman than he had with her. Sorah was ignorant to the world and whenever he tried to deepen their conversations, she quickly shifted the subject. He had only dated Sorah out of obligation to his family rather than his feelings, yet he continued to disregard his father's pleading to settle down. A part of him hoped she would get tired of waiting for him to return and marry someone else: someone better than him. She deserved this and he had spoken to her about it, but she insisted he was the one.

Thankfully, he had finally been assigned his flat allowing him to avoid more unnecessary pressures of his future. At the moment, Cyan just wanted to focus on his military career and by his time to become a doctor. It sounded simple enough.

His flat was B-5 on Elms Street. A tiny but quaint little block in the corner of the city with a low crime rate and a mostly elderly population. Cyan didn't stand out too much and his military uniform allows him access to anywhere in the city except for restricted areas. He was free to roam and do as he pleased as long as it didn't go against protocol. Cyan found a delicious Thai place two corners away from where he lived and a Cisco where his new neighbor shops for groceries.

Thaddeus, who lived upstairs, was tall, muscular and a boisterous man who made his presence known. It was weird to think that this guy was a live-in attendant to elderly patients. He was an incredibly vibrant person who Cyan instantly took a liking to. His confidence and jovial personality contrast the dark red hair and heavy mascara he dons. Along with painted black nails, Thaddeus is not someone Cyan would have usually associated with before. Now, he finds himself a bit enthralled by Providence B's more open-mindedness.

Speaking of open-mindedness, Cyan pours over the official dragon manuscript he's been issued. He has no idea how this is going to work. He's optimistic that his dragon will at least find the place far more comfortable than The Cages. If the conditions are anything like the rumors he's heard, anywhere is heaven compared to that place. A small frown tugged at his lips thinking about it.

A part of him twitches at the idea of owning something that is classified as a 'living weapon' yet is still a creature- a being with thoughts and feelings. The manual doesn't speak about dragons as if they are their entities but rather as if their property to be obtained and devoid of all free will.

Cyan swallowed hard.

Glancing around the empty flat, it felt a bit colder. His stuff was to be shipped over to him tomorrow which meant there was nothing here besides a table, a sofa, and two-bed frames in the master bedroom. Cyan got the feeling that his dragon may not go for sleeping on the floor.

Dragons did sleep.

Not much but he read they could be nocturnal and some dragons had insomniac tendencies.

He glances over at the dragon manuscript wondering if Royce read it yet. He's sure the other man has considering how serious he was about getting a dragon. Cyan leisurely flips through it again for the hundredth time trying to remember everything he needs to know. Whatever type of dragon he gets will determine everything. Cyan plops down on the wooden floors and glances out the window lost in thought.

His eyes reflect the city lights that sparkle like diamonds against a dark sky. Cyan sighs trying to control his nerves.

Dragons were nothing more than giant pets.

Giant pets that could swallow you whole.

He gulps as another word comes to mind before closing the book entirely.

Monster.

That is what they have labeled him as. Aiden knows that once a dragon is given this nickname it will be put down soon. Though the idea of dying here scares him, he is not afraid to let go of this miserable life. A small part of him hopes they kill him soon.

The atmosphere darkness as each day passes. His handlers glare at him with dark eyes hooded in barbaric amusement and gloating hatred for the numerous years he's made their lives just miserable since he was captured. Today was no exception. The area between his wings ached right along his spine growing more irritated considering he couldn't reach it. Rubbing his back against the bars, he snarled as the cool metal chilled his fevered skin.

His wings throbbed. It had been so long since he has been able to fully extend them. Stuck in the human form, Aiden couldn't control his temper. The collar charged his ashen skin- the smell of his scarred, blistered flesh was nauseating. In such a confined space, Aiden wondered if he would be missed. Listening to the faint sound of rain beating against the roof, he slumped down to the floor. He imagines a storm to be wild, vivid, and cool. He closes his eyes and smells fresh rain and humidity. Aiden licks his cracked lips. The familiar pungent taste of blood makes his throat run dry as he spits. He crawls over to the small bowl in the corner before taking a sip of the murky water. It tastes like dishwater and grease. Gagging it down, Aiden stares into the bowl trying to figure out if it was possible to drown from three inches of water.

What a life.

He did remember his childhood except for the fragments that came to him from time to time. In another life, he had been royalty. Before the Cages and the Kennels, Aiden remembered running down long corridors giggling as shadows of people chased after him. He remembered voices calling to him by chanting his name. He remembered his father calling him a prince and his mother smiling down on him as if he was the future.

Somewhere that prospect was drastically distorted until the torture caused him most of his sanity. Regardless of who he used to be, it doesn't matter.

He sees great fires and men marching as they chant. Royal blue tailored suits and black boots make emphasis of their threats; they had come offering peace but instead demanding war. Aiden hisses as a sharp pain catches him off guard. His wings barely fold in now and the awkward angle leaves them constantly in pain. Just once he'd like to know the freedom of flying before he dies.

It's no secret that dragons with who couldn't be broken in were put to death. Their bodies were stripped of all their viable parts and sold. It's no secret to the devious and cruel nature of the humans: they don't hide it. To think that they say dragons are the monsters.

Aiden snorts at this thought. How hypocritical of them.

Dragons that weren't 'chosen' within a certain period of time or returned after being deemed 'dangerous' or too aggressive were Tagged. Due to Dragons being considerably rare though a commodity, most were not put down unless of extreme cases. Aiden has experienced every type of torture and 'training' available whether it was ethical or not. He had pushed the limits of even the best dragon trainers. Snarling at the handlers when they tried to leash him, avoiding the food they fed him (he hasn't eaten in twelve days, five hours, six minutes, and twenty-three seconds), and looking like a demon summoned from the underbelly of the earth if any of the soldiers or the aristocrats even dared to step an inch towards his cage.

Aiden was determined to die early in order to end his suffering in the Kennels. He closed his eyes, letting his heavy breaths grow shallow. If there was one thing he could control in his life, it would be his death: the one thing they couldn't take from him.