View Concept Art #6 and #7 before viewing this chapter.
A person walks up a river to collect supplies.
As he walked along the side of it, he came across something that would change his perspective.
On a long log layed a boy, unconscious, who was beat up and bleeding. Shocked at the sight, the person picked up the young boy and ran away from the river as fast as he could.
The person approached a village where people called the person by name and all who saw him came running to his side to help.
"Ceriian, what do you need?" Someone asked the person. Ceriian remained silent as he ran. He stopped a few yards later, though, and turned to face the people.
"Everyone. Start a mobile green code!" he yelled to them all. Before long, he has baskets of things and blankets beyond count. He rolled out a short but thick blanket and set the boy on it. He stirred a small bit.
Ceriian then grabbed a paintbrush type tool and held it firmly. Chanting words unpredictably, he tried using Eniripsa magic, but his face was very quickly spelt by confusion.
He tried once more, but the other people around him distracted him.
"Wait," he suddenly started turning to the crowd, "Who decided to get the Enutrof supplies?" A short Sram raised her hand and pushed to the front to speak. Ceriian glared at the girl enraged.
"Is that really what he is, do you think?"
"I'm almost sure, sir, is everything okey?" she hesitantly asked.
"In all my years of experimentation with Eniripsa magic, nothing has ever been worse for me!" he shouted at her. "I know I'm no Eniripsa by birth, but as the only one who does their magic among us to teach you, you couldn't have even paid attention to what I taught of dragons?!"
"I- I'm sorry teacher. But a dragon?" she asked again rather doubtingly.
"He's an Eliatrope. I have never been so positive about my inferring," Ceriian clarified to the Sram. Her eyes filled with awe at his statement. "Dear Pollier, I know it's hard to say because neither of us have seen one, but Eliatropes are so distinct that we must treat him and earn his trust." Pollier nodded and walked over to the Eliatrope boy to check his vitals. Ceriian, now annoyed, searched an emergency bag nearby to find some bandages.
"His first signs are 40... second are 56... third are 20... and his fourth factor is dropping into the –30's," she shouted back to Ceriian whose focus sharpened his focus at the comment.
"-30?!" he exclaimed in shock. He came dashing over and wrapped certain injuries around the boy. Pollier stopped and gasped as she checked his signs again.
"Ceriian..." she whispered hesitantly, "his fourth factor returned to 8, but his second is unfindable..."
"But how?! He's unconscious!" he yelled dropping the bandages to go help her.
"Oh... Oh my. Pollier, move into an orange code. This is more serious than I assumed," he told her frightened. She immediately nodded and began to pound on the poor boy's ribs. After a few minutes, she stopped, sighing in relief.
"Ceriian, he's stable," she finished, ending the code. Ceriian sighed and went back to finish wrapping his less serious cuts. Pollier sat down in silence nearby and watched Ceriian work. He was clearly stressed and needed support as soon as he could require it.
A few grueling hour later, the boy blinked his eyes open and groaned in pain catching Ceriian's attention. He promptly walked over into his view and the boy looked at him confused.
"Do you... do you know where Ralo is?" he slowly asked Ceriian. Pollier walked over and looked at the boy now confused herself.
"Ceriian, what language does he speak?" she whispered into his ear, "Can you understand him? I don't know what he's saying..." Ceriian thought for a moment before telling her, "He speaks in my native language. I'll tell you what he's saying later, ok?" Pollier nodded and fixed her gaze on the strange Eliatrope.
"I knew a young man named Ralocolcourtay a long time ago, but I know nothing about his whereabouts, sorry," Ceriian apologized to the boy, who nodded.
"It's fine. I just wanted to know how to get back at him for what he's done to me," the boy explained. "He's the reason I'm cut up like this, but he's also the reason I'm no longer struck with delirium. The experience was a lose situation for us both, though."
Ceriian looked at him thoughtfully before asking, "Are you and Ralo friends? Is any of this an accident?"
Ceriian watched as the boy looked down at his feet with an uncomfortable expression on his face.