Growing Pains: Chapter 3

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As the hoses turned back on to rinse soap away from the pelts of the harvest, Icarus watched Vyno turn back to look at Miska and the sprite who still lay on the ground. 

“Why is this one out here?” he demanded. “Get them off the floor and back into a cell. Miska, get back to your post. Who the hell is supposed to be running the floor right now? They’re not doing their goddamn job!” 

“You are, are you not?” 

The voice was accented from lands to the northeast, across the sea that divided the continents, sweet as honey, smooth as silk, and it sent a chill down Icarus’s spine. He looked up to see Esperanza lounging on the platform where Mijhael usually stood looking down at them. Her rose-colored scales glittered under the harsh lights overhead, her pale pink fur and white mane gleamed with the kind of grooming one did when they were perfectly comfortable. For being a prisoner herself, unwilling to cooperate but forced by circumstance, this dracus certainly didn’t seem under duress. 

Vyno turned to look at the raised platform and the drakiri lounging on it. His nostrils flared and he gave his head a derisive shake as he averted his gaze. It was a small, but meaningful interaction that Icarus found odd. 

“Get off Mijhael’s platform,” Vyno said, the commanding bite returning to his voice. “Don’t make me have to put you back in your cell.” 

“But you were just so tough with poor, young, foolish Desmonae,” Esperanza pouted, lowering her head to rest her cheek against her hand where it lay on the floor. “I don’t think I could possibly settle now that I’ve seen something so upsetting!” 

“Your comfort is neither my concern nor my responsibility,” Vyno snapped. “Get off the platform and do your job! The humans are nearly done scrubbing Icarus down, examine him and make your assessment before I start something I won’t want to finish.” 

Esperanza slid forward across the platform, her fingers and long claws gripping the platform’s edge as she looked down at Vyno with blue eyes that gleamed with intrigue. 

“Pray tell, young nightmare,” she said, her voice practically shaking with what Icarus thought might be excitement, “what exactly you would do that you simply could not bring yourself to finish.” 

Icarus watched as Vyno rolled his eyes and shook his head again before walking away toward the double doors that led to the cells. He took a breath and let it out slowly as the humans rinsed the soap from his mane and tail, using a long piece of metal with a rubber edge to squeegee the rest of the water from his fur and leave him damp and uncomfortable as he stepped off the metal grate toward the inspection platform. 

He hated this process, he truly did, but he’d been here long enough to know that fighting them would make things so much worse. It would lead to someone like Desmonae making good on their promise to hurt those he loved…Icarus would do anything to keep his children safe. Even if that meant giving these people what they wanted, when they wanted it. Already he had given them his skin, his antlers, his teeth and scales, there was even talk that they would take his eyes…he was horrified and scared, always riddled with anxiety, but he stayed and behaved because he had assurances that his children were safe and well kept. 

Oh, his children…he missed them dearly. This was the longest he had been away from them, but he had insisted they know nothing of what he was doing here. Mijhael had offered to help him with that, had created a story to tell them about an important exploration mission he had to go on without them because it was very dangerous. Alina would accept it but Mila was smart enough to see through it, given time. He hoped they were well. Mijhael assured him they were whenever they spoke, but assurances were different from actually seeing them well and happy. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” The voice cut through Icarus’s concerned ruminations and he lifted his head to see Esperanza sitting in front of him, her blue eyes scanning him as if he were a cut of meat she hadn’t decided yet how to cook.

“You don’t have a penny,” Icarus said dryly. 

“And you have no thoughts I would spend a penny for,” Esperanza mused, but there was no malice in her voice. She would sometimes say things to him that seemed entirely inappropriate to the situation at hand and Icarus had to wonder if she knew where she was. Other times she was sharper than the blades the skinners used to take his hide, to an almost frightening degree. He couldn’t get a read on her, and it was likely what unsettled him so much when she was around. 

“Then why did you ask?” Icarus countered, shifting uncomfortably on the dais. 

“Because it is polite,” Esperanza said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world that he should understand. “And because I wonder what you think about sometimes…I heard someone shouting your name this morning, from the cells. Someone you know?” 

Icarus’s pelt prickled with unease as he remembered the voice that had shouted his name. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in years, one that he had avoided and felt great shame for doing so. He wasn’t ready for this reunion, especially not in a place like this that was filled with so much suffering and fear. 

“Ah, you do know him,” Esperanza said with a knowing smile, her tone almost smug. “Is he a friend? Family? A lover perhaps?” 

“No,” Icarus said sternly, glaring at the dracus. Who was this drakiri to ask such questions? She was none of those things to him, these questions were entirely inappropriate. 

“Let me guess, let me guess,” Esperanza said, her long, elegant whiskers twitching frantically with her eagerness as she settled on her haunches and lifted her left hand to stroke at the long white mane that draped down her throat. “I would bet all the money in the world that this dracus fellow, Milarose, is a long-lost lover of yours. Maybe you parted on good terms, but I think not. I think you resent each other, and he is furious to find you here because you cannot seem to stay away from one another.” 

Icarus clenched his teeth and breathed slowly, knowing that if he reacted poorly to Esperanza too, he could potentially put his children at risk. This was a careful dance he had to navigate, and he’d already missed a step today in his reaction to Desmonae. 

“He’s just a friend,” he said finally, his voice tight but still polite. “He helped me when I needed it, and I returned the favor. That is the extent of our relationship. It would hurt me if you continued guessing and making conjectures, Esperanza, and I know your intent is to heal, never to harm.” 

Esperanza was quiet for a long moment, her eyes glazing over in the strange way they tended to when they interacted. Her claws dug a little deeper into the fur along her throat until he heard them scrape against the skin beneath. When she came back to herself, she did so with a jolt and she stood, breathing a little harder. 

“You are quite right,” she said with a small bow of her head in acknowledgement. “I would hate to cause you harm with my own entertainment, forgive me. Let us see how your pelt has regrown. I want to ensure the treatments have worked as intended after your first harvesting.” 

This was the part Icarus hated the most, he could suffer the indignance of being bathed, he handled the initial examination Mijhael did despite the drakiri’s startling appearance, but Esperanza was much more hands-on. 

He closed his eyes and turned his face away when the healer stepped forward to stand at the edge of the dais, reaching over his back to run her hands down his flanks, feeling for breaks in the fur or patches that might not have grown in entirely. He hated the feeling of her soft fingers against his body, the occasional scratch of her claws against his skin when she ran them down his haunches toward his ankles. He shuffled uncomfortably in place when her hands touched the raw skin where his scales had been and shied away from her touch.

“It still hurts?” she asked, and when he glanced at her he saw her expression had tightened with concentration. 

“It does,” he confirmed, keeping his answers short and curt so there was little to interpret other than obedience. 

“It should not hurt,” she said. “Hold still.” 

Icarus let out a short, sharp breath through his nose and tensed, knowing what was to come. Esperanza placed her hand fully on his chest, pressing firmly enough to bring stinging tears to his eyes. The pain was far preferable to what came after, though. 

From Esperanza’s palm, he felt a warm, prickling sensation tingle along his skin. It felt like a thousand pins and needles poking and prodding, until his flesh felt like someone had set it aflame. His breath came in short, pained gasps and he leaned his head back, squeezing his eyes shut tight against the painfully bright violet light that emanated from his chest. 

It lasted entirely too long, his legs felt weak, his heart beat rapidly and his vision darkened around the edges. But the pain in his chest lessened where Esperanza’s hand touched, and he felt the relief spread up his throat and down his belly. He fell to his knees as the exhaustion returned to him and would have collapsed to his side if Esperanza hadn’t kept him upright with her other hand. 

“This magic draws from your core,” the dracus said as she moved her hand away from his chest, moving him so he lay on his side without falling. “The energy that sustains you, fuels your own magic. I have done what I can, but if I do too much at once it will kill you. Your scales are mostly formed, it will take a few days more before they harden and return to their normal state, but the skin should no longer pain you.” 

Icarus stared ahead, finding it difficult to do much more than that, struggling to focus his eyes on much more than the lazily spinning violet auras that seemed to surround what little he could see. 

“I want to see Mijhael,” Icarus said, voice weak and reedy, but firm in the words he chose. They hadn’t denied him the right to see the risker yet, not since Mijhael had taken a special interest in him. 

“I will send him to your cell once you’ve been harvested again,” Esperanza said. “Your skin has regenerated completely; we can harvest as soon as tonight.”

“No!” Icarus said forcefully. “I want to see him before you harvest again. I’ve done this once already, Mijhael has said he will speak with me whenever I want, I want to speak with him before you take anything more from me.” 

He felt her gaze on him, knew that he had displeased her, and in the moment was too exhausted to try to backpedal. His eyes closed and he slipped away into unconsciousness. 

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