Exception

Freedom

        I am the only one of my kind and one of the few left in my world. Many years ago, a war broke out between humans and dragons. Because of this, dragons were eradicated except for one. That one was used to produce sacrifices for over a century before another war broke out. This one was against the humans who wished for the dragons to be allies again and the ones who would always look down on them for their past crimes. My parents were on both sides. My mother was a dragon fighting for her freedom, and my father was a human fighting for the dragon's complete extinction.

          They started as enemies, but fate had another path for them. They both ended up in a cave that collapsed, where they believed they'd die. Their hostility lost its motivation, and they chose to speak however reluctantly. Both wanted a better life and a safe place to have a family. They believed war was their only option. My father had feared what dragons would do if their population grew, and my mother feared that leaving humans against her kind alone would allow their hate to fester. Both wanted the war finished before they started their own families. Both wanted a safe future for their loved ones and that mutual value planted the seed of peace.

          So they let their hate go and chose to seek comfort with each other for what they presumed to be their last moments, not too long after the entrance of the collapsed cave crumbled from the rain. Their fates had already changed by then. They fell in love, and both chose to leave the war, finding a haven away from the destruction the rest of the world condemned to cause.

          My parents had one miracle child: me. I was raised away from others, completely isolated. They kept me ignorant of how bad it was out there, how both sides were fractions of their past populations. The only humans left now were the ones who hated dragons, and the dragons left hated humans. The worst of both sides used their hatred to keep going, while the ones who had wished for peace lost their hope.

          My parents, at this point, were missing. My father had left to find me the medicine I desperately needed, and my mother went after him when he didn't return. A few days after they both disappeared, raiders found my home and took me. They gave me medication and planned to sell me off and treat me like an animal.

          I was 12 years old.  Two months had passed since I was taken. My body was quite malnourished, but I was keeping my positive outlook, just like my parents would have wanted from me. I couldn't wait to see them again. Maybe part of my optimism was delusion. If I had let myself think that I'd never see my family again, I'm not sure I'd have survived. Hope does a lot for one's survival.

          As I rationed my food pellets, I heard some commotion in the building—screams. It wasn't that uncommon, but it did sound louder than usual. When I first arrived, the screams terrified me. I just wanted my family to come save me. Now, it was background noise, like sirens. You hear them so often that the reason behind them isn't even a thought.

          I was in the last cell since it was categorized to have humans, then dragons, and then me as the only mixed blood. It was thought to be impossible for humans to have children with dragons, but I was proof that they were wrong—a miracle child.

          The screams quieted, and an odd sound emerged—heavy boots thumping against the stones. The noise was mixed with a stickiness that made my hair rise. I focused on my cell's door while a large shadow moved across the floor.

          A man, covered in blood, stood out of my cell. He looked at me as if I had ruined his day. He was really grumpy. It had been a while since I had been happy myself. I wanted to make him happy. Maybe he was lonely, too. It had been a long time since I spoke to someone. No matter how often I attempted to engage with the raiders, the raiders never spoke to me.

          "You are dirty here." I walked over, pulling my shirt off and holding it out to him.

          "To wipe down," I explained to him warmly.

          My parents wouldn't hesitate to help an animal in need. I saw this as no different. My father once gave his shirt to a rabid fox and took him somewhere safe. He told me rabid animals have sensitive eyes, so the shirt would help. He never did get his shirt back.

          The man stared at my shirt and then scanned my emaciated body. He looked at the open sores on my arms and sides before breaking the lock on my cell and opening it up. I took that as him accepting my kindness. I placed the shirt in his hand, moving back to my rations.

          "Are you hungry? My mom told me always to offer guests food. I don't have much, but I don't mind sharing." I told the man, holding out the handful.

          He picked up a pellet, examining it momentarily before dropping it back in my hands, staring at the magic restraints on my wrists. These shackles made it so my magic was nullified. All dragons have some form of magic, though powerful magic is rare. The raiders were being cautious when they bound the dragons.

          After a moment of staring, the man reached down. He touched the shackles, which instantly unlocked and fell to my feet. I rubbed my raw wrists tenderly. I was amazed, and gratitude filled me. This man was so kind!

          "Thank you so much!" I beamed at the man. He said nothing, beginning to leave.

          The man left my cell door open. My mind was still caged. It didn't even grace my mind that he was freeing me; I thought he had just forgotten to close it. I went over, closing my cell door in response. I heard his heavy steps halt when my cell closing hit his ears. His steps moved back my way. The man stared at me angrily while I returned to rationing my food before there was a loud bang. I covered my ears, watching the man remove the door from its hinges. He threw it against the empty cell in front of mine before leaving.

          I took that as a sign that he wanted me to follow him, so I did just that. Stepping outside my cell, I saw red everywhere. Blood coated the walls and pooled on the floor in a thick paste. I moved my eyes to the back of the man, using him as a focus while I made my way through the carnage. How could I have been so withdrawn not to notice what he had done?

          I followed the man down the long corridor, past hundreds of dead bodies. He killed everyone: every trafficker and every victim. I was the only one left alive; I was the exception. I quickened my pace, grabbing the man's sleeve as we walked, the sight of the dead frightening me. There were children younger than me among them. Ones who probably never had a peaceful day in their life, but in this world, the man put them out of their misery, I suppose. Was this mercy in his eyes? My mind began to rationalize what he had done. A villain is still a hero to some.

          The man pulled his sleeve out of my hand but didn't shoo me away. I stayed by his side as we walked out of the facility. The fresh air welcomed me. He didn't just free me; he set free all those suffering. I couldn't bring myself to look back, but I touched the wall, setting it ablaze. Now, no one could use it to trap anyone again, and the bodies would be at rest.

          Outside the facility, like most of the continent, was a thick forest. The forest was beautiful and smelt cool and fresh, unlike my cell or the bloody corridor. The soft forest floor felt nice on my bare feet, and the air was comforting, cooling the burning sores on my body. Though I was nowhere near my home, I felt close to home in that instance.