Oh dear Fates, I'm going to have an anxiety attack, I can feel it. This is not possible, but I know they're real, and they're still itchy, and I have no idea how they got there.
Focusing on his school day is the only way he can keep a calm composure in the face of something completely unprecedented.
Drenar thought the day would get easier, but he still felt exhausted. And worse, he just had an awful thought. That feather in his book bag, likely sitting under his water bottle, may have also come from his body. Feathers and scales?! What am I becoming, some kind of exotic bird? Like black swan. but worse, and no rapidly unraveling psyche?! No wait, that part is still in progress.
Then another thought comes to the forefront. Julia had been mentioning dragons as a joke two nights ago. Is my friend a witch, and she hexed me, out of morbid amusement? No. No way. There's no way she hexed me, and magic doesn't exist. Even Julia wouldn't mess with my life that profoundly just for the laughs.
He lets his logic process work through it, while trying to get through English literature. Okay. If it’s not magic, or it’s partially related to magic, then cells in my body are rapidly mutating into a heretofore unknown configuration that isn't cancer. Cancer would be a complete mess, a tumor, asymmetrical, even odorous, and disrupt bodily functions. The odds of mutated cells having benefits or organization to this level would be nonexistent. These scales are patterned and form specific shapes and distinct colors. It's too organized to be something at random. He keeps forcing himself to not scratch at it. Oh dear Fates, thank goodness it's the weekend coming up.
He gives it even more thought process during engineering class. Think. If this isn't random, it's programmed. It means the cells are either changing in my body, or are capable of rewriting cellular structure, something embedded in my DNA. There's a disturbing thought, I've been a dragon my whole life, and never knew it.
But cellular growth requires massive energy sources. Does this explain why it feels like I've been ravenous for the past month, but didn't even put on so much as half a kilogram? Is…mass being converted to energy? Is it a mass effect?
Oh dear Fates Drenar, your worlds’ just gotten so much more messed up if physics is breaking down. Reminding himself of that inconvenient truth isn’t helping his mood.
It’s even harder to keep up the act in front of his friends.
Sleep fatigue continues to persist, and his shoulder still hurts from the hard landing on the floor. James sits across from him at the lunch table, looking like he knows something is up. "Hey, you look exhausted man, are you okay?" he finally asks after more than a few false starts.
"Just…weird dreams, I dunno." he shrugs. James is the last person he wants to tell in confidence about this.
Anything to deflect the conversation compared to what's really bothering him, lurking beneath a thin disguise of his dark shirt sleeve, and a few gauze wraps. What surprises him more is that Nick stops at the table. “Hey Drenar, mind if I ask you something?”
“You just did, but okay. what's up?”
“I need a favor on something. I'm bored out of my mind with track and field, and I know you and Angela were doing fencing the year before. Any chance you could get it up and running?” This question comes out of the left field. And Drenar had almost quit because of a situation that he'd rather forget about.
“Well, it's been kinda hard. The guy who had trained us passed away last year, so training outside of school is tough to come by. He also lent some of the equipment.”
“Oh. Didn't know that,” Nick says with surprise. “Think you could talk to the admin here, and see if we could get it up and running?”
You literally are asking me at the worst time of my life Nick, not that you know any better. He decides a tactical answer is in store. “I'll look into it.”
“Hey Nick, where did you live before this, anyway? James redirects. It’s a conveniently great reprieve, Drenar thinks.
“San Francisco, but then I came back,” he replies. “I love the Bay Area. It’s too bad it's so expensive to live out there nowadays. I love it out here in Colorado. Lots of outdoor stuff, cross-country skiing...it still feels like an unexplored frontier.”
“You like the wilderness, huh?”
“It’s like a second home,” Nick replies confidently. “I used to go camping with my dad. Not like the suburban version, I’m talking about real camping. Hunting, fishing, having to bring all your supplies in and out. Maybe an ice chest with a few key items, but that was it. It was challenging, as much as it was rewarding.”
“Ew. Not for me,” James wrinkles his nose. “I’m graduating at the end of the year, I applied for the east coast, same as mister engineer here,” he adds after gesturing to Drenar, “far removed from the wild frontier. I would probably die if put in a survival situation.”
“I could teach you,” Nicholas beamed. “Granted, it would be brutal and you would probably hate me forever, but it’s an experience. Nothing but your wits and a few basic tools, against the wilderness.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” James said sourly. “Hey, uh, Drenar, you alright?”
“Huh?” For the last minute, he’d felt his heart rate pick up. He felt jittery, and a tension headache was building.
“You’re looking a little off,” James pointed out.
“Uh...just, I couldn't really sleep last night,” Drenar mumbled.
“What, did Julia keep you up all night?” James was practically grinning.
“Nah, it was Angela actually. You know, your sister? I refuse to let the competition go when it comes to Halo. We were up sooo late,” he adds with a smirk.
“Oh, is someone bragging? I thought I felt needed somewhere,” He felt someone clap on his arm lightly. The arm which is currently going through a slight metamorphosis, and he suppresses a pain reaction. Angela Shalinde is peering at him with interest with her slightly freckled complexion, long, wavy dark hair, and low-profile glasses obscuring her gray-blue eyes. “You are total trash when it comes to slayer mode.”
Drenar let the comment slide, because she was right. She isn't anywhere near as tall as her brother, but very close to Drenar’s height. Unlike her brother who looked like a stick on legs, she is much more athletically inclined. Angela is usually much quieter in tone than her best friend Julia, and has interests ranging from fencing--which she and Drenar both particularly enjoyed--to outdoor activities like hiking and camping. She is also very competitive and doesn't hesitate to challenge Drenar to...well, pretty much anything under the sun. It’s about one of the only things she and James had in common. For fraternal twins, it’s a little surprising how different they are.
But if there is one thing that defines her, it’s how she moves with an ethereal grace everywhere she goes--from her wry smile to her ability to move like fluid on the training floor during fencing. Everything for her is one continuous, seamless motion, without all the jitters and hesitation most people have in their daily routine.
“Yeah, slayer’s fine and all, but I like objectives,” Drenar replied with a wry smile. He did lament that they didn’t have fencing class anymore, his trainer had died suddenly while on vacation a year ago--a person I had treated like a friend, and it disheartened Drenar to learn of his passing. She had been bummed out about it almost as much as him, so they had talked about starting a fencing club in school again. “So. What brings you here?”
“You. I just couldn’t let smack talk go,” she said smoothly, then glanced at Nicholas. “Oh hey, Nick. What’s up?”
“Eh, not much, just trying to see if I can get you guys to take the plunge and start the fencing club again,” he replies casually, scratching the back of his head.
“Man, I’d kill to start that up again. Hey Drenar, your pupils are dilated,” Angela adds almost as an afterthought.
“They are?” He has wondered why it seemed so bright in the room, and blinks several times. “Again, lack of sleep.” He notices Nicholas is still looking at him curiously. “Hey, would you excuse me guys for a second?” He rose from the table and headed to the washroom.
Drenar fumbles with the sink and splashes cold water on his face. The sharp blast of cold helped bring him back into focus, and he stared at the mirror, watching himself standing unsteadily, water dripping down his face.
Okay. Breathe Drenar, breathe.. He splashes icy water again and relishes the chilly sting. His heart rate is returning to normal, but he still grips the marble sink tightly. The reflection suggests he doesn’t look fine. He looks fatigued.
And even worse, his arm is itching again. He doesn't dare to examine it here, not in school. "You okay?" Nick asks after he joins his friends a minute later.
"Fine. I just uh, needed a minute," he replies quickly. "Okay guys, I need to jet, my next class is across the building. James, Angela, my place this weekend?"
"Sure. Are you ready for another thrashing?" Angela replied teasingly.
"Don't make me throw the Tarrasque at you guys, unless you want a real challenge," he responds coolly. “Alright I’m out, see you later.” He’s just happy that his heart rate has slowed down to normal.
“So, what just happened to you?” Nick asks a moment later, since he is heading in the same direction.
“I...don’t know.” Drenar didn't know why he took so long to answer. He looks at Nick, and the curiosity must have been etched in his face, because he kept talking. Yeah no, telling him I’m growing scales for no reason isn’t going to end well. Keep it vague.
“Angie was telling me you’ve been exhausted lately when we were in class. You looked like you were about to pass out at the table just now.”
“I’m just bad about setting a bedtime.” He’s wondering where he’s going with this. “You know, you’ve been in school for a couple of years, and I don’t think we’ve spoken more than a dozen times. Why today?”
“Short version? I felt like I shouldn’t get attached to the school,” Nick admits. “I mean I get it, it's tough moving in part way through high school. I just…didn’t really grow up here. Also, I thought you might be having some kind of medical issue. My mom was a doctor, so I heard all kinds of obscure stuff when she’d get home to talk about work.”
“Nah. I'm fine,” Drenar replies quietly.
“Alright, forget I brought it up. I just haven’t seen you like that before.”
“So, why the detachment from school life?” Drenar asks while trying to meander past people stalled in the hallway. “I doubt you haven’t noticed this, but half the girls in this school fawn over you.”
“I try not to notice,” he grumbles. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but with the immaturity–ehh–long-term commits are going to be a zero percentage success rate.” Drenar chuckles at this roundabout evasion. “I dunno, I guess I had some good times here. Volleyball?”
“Oh right. The marathon last year. Yeah, that was kinda fun. Still though, of all things, why fencing?” That part is still bothering him. It’s not exactly mainstream interest.
“I heard about your skill set from Angie. It sounded like fun, though the skill difference might be mighty tall,” Nick said. Drenar ponders just what else she’d told Nick.
“I was decent. And it helped me get through some stuff.”
“I think her words were, ‘That boneheaded idiot could have done the Olympics, then quit when his fencing instructor passed away.” Nick has an edge to his voice. “You know that actually kinda surprised me, but you chronically undersell yourself at times. Be proud that someone else thinks you’re that good.” They both fell silent for a few seconds, and Drenar was hesitant to admit that he wasn’t just good–only Angela had ever been able to keep up with him after a while. “Why did you really let the club lapse?”
Drenar lets out a soft sigh. The truth would have been unbelievable to Nick. “Let’s just say that I got what I needed from it. But…if you’re willing to learn, and we could get the right forms and permissions, we could probably start a club here. Why your interest? Judo training didn’t pan out?” he asks slyly. Nick rubs his neck uneasily.
“Oh, Julia told you about that, didn't she?” Drenar nods with a wolflike grin. “Track and fields’ fun and all, but I wouldn’t mind branching out and trying something new. Besides, running in circles gets boring after a while,” he proposes with dry humor.
“Well, if you can poke fun at your own pastime, that's good enough for me, but it would be a hard sell to get the club started anytime soon though.” Drenar really had thought he’d closed this door. Maybe he shouldn’t have. “Have you got any experience?”
“Uh…some,” Nick says. “Not to say I haven’t gotten into a fight in my life, but I know enough close quarters that it can’t be that much of a stretch.”
“Deal. Angie would love it if we could pull this off. Rick was also there for a hot five minutes, and he was decent. I’ll ask around.”
“Alright then. Keep me posted.” He didn’t know why, but Drenar had this feeling that the start of the discussion had been planned for a little while. Then a thought stops him mid-step.
Hang on. Wasn't he just making comments on dragons the other day in the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard, something about a Draconomicon?
Suddenly, he feels the anxiety building in the pit of his stomach. Does he know something?
