Is it possible to lose everything you had in a single night? 

Skylar found out (the hard way), that yes - you can. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling every heartbeat contract within his chest: wondering if his heart would simply give out. The walls around him were yellowed and the wallpaper upon them was peeling off in long strips. He hadn't been able to afford a better accommodation, and nobody but this shady motel had been willing to give him a room to begin with. The world already knew about his plight, about who and what he was. The blonde was sure that it was likely people all over the country were mocking him. He tossed an arm over his eyes, it was the middle of the night. Yet how could he sleep? The moment the sun breaks over the horizon - he'll be off to Montana to the middle of its thick forests, not even to a city. 

Traveling by train, not even a magnetic one - a steam engine, to his school. More like prison, when he reviewed the cheesy postcard-like invitation he received. It was a massive Gothic castle, looking like it would crumble in the softest brush of wind. A massive iron fence surrounded the woods and land it encompassed. He'd been boarding there: for a whole year - before he would have the choice to live at home.

He huffed. 
Like he'd ever set foot in that lavish house. Skylar feels the sheets beneath him and winced at the rough feeling that ran across his hands. He missed his satin sheets. He missed his chandlers and butlers. He slipped a hand into his pocket and drew out his wallet - now a useless paper weight, there was nothing in it: and nothing on the cards it held. Tears came, for the second time since he had taken his Destiny Test. Yesterday: he had spent all the money he could - in a blinded blurr of despair. The debit card and credit card were empty of every cent, and the things he bought - weren't even cool or that expensive. It was all simply, a last ditch effort to get back at his parents. Spiteful shopping, it wasn't fun. Skylar much preferred to shop for what he wanted - not just spend money mindlessly. 

Dozen of bags full of designer clothes were in his motel room, but the only thing he could bring on the train itself: was his single suitcase- stuffed as full as he could get it.the rest would be transported by the school's faulty - and like hell he trusted them not to steal anything he owned. He stiffened as he felt water roll down his face and drip onto the scratchy sheets. He wiped at the tears, but they simply kept flowing: running down without any sign of stopping. His phone buzzed, it had to be the hundredth time that Kiwi was attempting to get ahold of him - but like hell he would answer. 

He knew that the Pro Hero meant well, but what did he have to tell Skylar that he hadn't already heard: from the lying mouths of his parents. 

"We'll love you no matter what!"

"A father's love is forever, Skylar. Don't forget that." 

"Liars..."the young man mumbled under his breath the single word itself wavering: as sobs broke through his lips, chest heaving. "Fucking liars." 

He surprised himself with the intensity of the curse, Skylar wasn't the kind of guy who spilled vile words out with ease. Or unconsciously: he was raised better. To curse, was to appear crude. He slowly sat up, and he found his tears starting to dry a bit - as slowly sadness gave way: to embers. The embers of anger, that would slowly spark against one another, until they leap up as the tongues of flames called rage. His body shook softly. 

"Those fucking liars!" He screamed out, slamming a hand down onto the mattress. The air around him started to hum - the sound resembling the deadly tingling of an active electric fence. The yellow light above him, which hung exposed to the air, a single lonely bulb began to flicker on and off. Small sparks of blue began to flare off his body leaving small charr marks in the sheets. "Filthy...liars..." 

BOOM!
Blue light flooded the entire room, the light bulb shattered into fine powder: as it burst. The wires in the walls charred and burned in their spots, overcharged. The walls were covered in strange spidering burn marks from where lightning had splattered across them. Skylar sat upon his charred bed, the sheets torn and shredded parts burned away into ash: taking deep ragged breaths. He stared out the window watching as golden light began to stream out from the edges of buildings. Dawn had arrived. He no longer felt exhausted, yet, restless: all he could feel was the cool numbness drifting through his veins.

This, would mark the last day: the day he could ever call himself a Dair. It may be his name, but he no longer held the privilege that came with it. The blonde swung his legs around on the bed, standing. He didn't care about the damage done to the room - this was paid for with the credit card. He got dressed, the usual way. He wore a classic checkerboard sweater vest, on top of a grey button-down shirt. He allowed only the cuffs and collar to be seen. To top it all off, he added a pair of grey slacks matching the shirt - and red dress shoes, for a bit more color.

His anger was calming, the flames burning away back into embers. Though, those embers lingered in the pit of his stomach - making him feel almost nauseated. He didn't even think he could get that blind with red. He sighed and he approached the bathroom knowing his eyes were puffy. He didn't need to arrive at the train station looking like he had cried himself to sleep, which he had. Skylar would be a target by just continuing to breathe. He was sure some of the other villain students held a grudge against his family: one way or another. Or: they hated heroes in general. 

So, Skylar stood at the sink and splashed water into his face - shuddering as the cold droplets dripped from his nose. He stared into the mirror, and he frowned a bit, touching his hair. He found that the tips had lost their golden touch - turning a stark white. Was that from his outburst just a few moments ago? He had never seen it do that. He touched his hair in shock, feeling that the white ends felt - strange. They were no longer silky and soft, but coarse. He swallowed, and a sense of panic almost began to settle into him. He just, he just couldn't lose his hair too. It would break him. 

He blinked, and his hair was back to its golden self: no longer displaying any signs of damage. He huffed and hung his head again, gripping at the sides of the sink.

"What the hell am I going to do?" He looks at his reflection. "I can't run. The SPPC will track me down - and then it’d be off to the Auditorium." He shuddered at the thought, and he grabbed a rag drying his face. The young man steps back away from the mirror, and he walks over to the bedside grabbing his overstuffed suitcase. He'll leave all the new clothes here, maybe the motel's staff will split it between them. 

Skyalr walked out the door, and headed for the train station.

[☆☆☆]

There was no paparazzi, and there was no fanfare at his arrival this time. No matter how straving a journalist was, none of them would dare set foot at the train station.  However, despite him getting off a modest bus - he felt eyes on him the moment he stepped out onto the platform. A shudder ran through his body, icy fear causing a slight shake to set into his step. They were not the eyes of onlookers admiring the blonde's presence. Hatred could be felt fluttering through the air, stinging it with heat.
Skylar kept his head up, and attempted to look unphased as the crowd parted around him. 

They all wanted to get a look at the washed up Dair. He stepped up to the train, finding a - man? He couldn't tell, the reason being the person before him appeared to be a massive slug, dripping and slimy. He couldn't help but stare, as they held out a gooey arm, holding a soaked ticket. 

"I am aware, that I'm a slug." Their voice was gravely, and the young man nodded his head as he slowly took the ticket. "So you can stop staring. First years are in the last car."

He grimaced as he felt the person's slime drip a bit onto his hands - the contact almost making him gag. He wiped it off on the side of the train, shivering. Skylar regretted setting foot in the car the moment he walked past the threshold, a rock went flying past his head: he barely managed to dodge it. The inside of the train didn't look as sleek and pretty as the outside, with stained stain sheets and peeling flowers wallpaper. All of the glass sliding doors that separated the compartments - were yellow and grimy. He heard people growling at him, what they said: well, he tried to block the words out as best he could. 

People grabbed and clawed at him, he had to multiple times rip his luggage from the hands of another student. People laughed and sneered as he passed, some made physical moves against him while others spewed out threats.

"Just wait until we get to school, Dair," someone hissed unreasonably close to his ear. Skylar wanted to elbow them in the face but didn't want to risk starting a fight, if he retaliated every person on this train would likely be upon him within moments: tearing him apart. "Then you're dead fucking meat! You got that!" 

He managed to survive the walk to the last car, where everything calmed down. It was likely because all of the first years were just nervous and sick about going to the Academy for the Wicked - they didn't care about a classmate having come from a lineage of heroes. For a moment. The blonde thought he was going to get off scot free, but a massive boy stepped in his way. His head touched the ceiling of the train, and Skylar stopped dead in his tracks, practically falling over as he tripped. 

The boy's voice was spewing venom, "Look what we have here...it's the Dair brat."  He huffed, and he cracked his knuckles, the sound resembling gunshots as they reverberated around the car. The man below him, shook his head trying to clear the fear from his mind that had frozen his trembling body to the spot. "Everyone else is waiting until we get to school to kill you - but, I'ma do it right here." 

The stranger reached down, and Skylar reacted swiftly. He slid between the giant's legs, and he stood up on the other side. His blue gaze was widened with adrenaline, and he could hear a soft humming start to charge up in the air - but he couldn't use his abilities. Not here. It's likely if he lost the smallest amount of control while attacking, the electricity would travel through the train: and ruin just about everything. Not to mention: he could easily release too many volts, and kill someone. So, he refrained from using his ability. He desperately searched for somewhere to hide - maybe he should sit with all the cargo in the very back of the train. 

He felt someone grab his collar, and for a single second- he thought he was going to die. That this would be his end. Dying on a filthy train, it wasn't the dream but - he guessed better now than later. Skylar found himself dragged into a compartment and practically thrown into a seat. The glass door slammed shut. The blonde sat there for a moment stunned and then he faced his - savoir? Attacker? He wasn't sure.

He blinked.
The first thing he noticed were the horns: they were thick and reflected the light casting blue and purple hues within their black color, they curled upwards. Then, he took in the tail that slowly swished behind the taller male and the wings that were folded neatly at his back - red and scaly, as one would expect. His hair was tied into a ponytail, one that was considerably long: a single hair tie holding up his cherry-red locks of hair, and Skylar caught exactly  - three streaks of blue. His gaze was a pale white, but it was clear he didn't have anything wrong with them: as he stared right at the blonde. His outfit was plain, a pair of jeans with a blue t-shirt: however, a red jacket was draped over him, unbuttoned in the front. 

"Um..."Skylar found himself too shocked to form words. The dragon-male sat down, his tail swishing back and forth. His pale gaze shifted away from the other's face, and down to his wrist. 

He whistled, "That is a fine watch you have there..."  his voice was strange, it held a kind of nobility to it - but suffered from a bit of pitchiness. 

Skylar swallowed, "Um...yeah." 

The stranger extended his hand, smiling softly: baring fangs. "Endymion Obrien!" 

The blonde reached over and he shook the other's hand, finding that the guy's swing felt soft. He had been expecting to feel scales. "Skylar Dair."

Endymion nodded his head, "I knew that, silly." He leaned back in his seat, relaxing. "And don't think I saved you because I'm a good person. I just want your watch."

"Ah,"Skylar hummed out. He took off the watch, he stared at it for a moment. It was technically the last remnants of his old life, but he didn't need it anymore. He unclipped it and he watched as Endymion fixated his gaze back onto the blonde. "Here." 

The taller man took the watch without thinking twice, he grinned at it, watching as his face was reflected in the surface of it. Skylar got a closer look at his face now, not so distracted by the horns. He found that Endymion wore silver studs, and there was a gash on his right hand - a long healed wound. He picked up on these little things now. 

"You're staring a lot." Endymion spoke up, as he slipped the watch onto his wrist, admiring it. He grinned again, and Skylar found that the male's flags were a little cute. "Though, that's okay. I'll likely stare at you a lot too." 

"Thanks...?" The blonde wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. "But, seriously, thanks for saving me back there. Even if it was just for my accessories."  He managed a weak smile. 

The redhead rose an eyebrow, "You know, you look like shit. These past couple of days have been hell, huh? I couldn't imagine. Coming from a lineage of heroes and not being well, a hero...must be tough."

Skylar winced, "Um - yeah." He jolted as he felt the train start to move. He sighed deeply, and he ran a hand through his hair, realizing that it was greasy. He hadn't taken a shower, or slept well within the two days he waited for the arrival of the train: so, he likely not only looked like he was about to drop dead - but smelt like it too. 

He leaned back into the seat. He propped his head up in his hands, leaning against the window. He couldn't see through it, the world was a yellow-grime blurr. He jumped a bit, as he felt something slide along his ankles, but relaxed, as he realized it was just Endymion's tail. He found that as silence descended between them, he didn't like it at all. The sounds of the train moving along the tracks were loud and annoying. He much rather hear his own voice. 

"So, can you like - breathe fire?" He asked and Endymion looked at him. He laughed softly, and Skylar felt heat rush to his face - realizing that he had likely asked a really dumb question. 

"I wish!" The redhead cackled out, "I can't breathe fire, but I can fly." 

"Well, that's cool too!" Skylar brightened up, when he was little - despite science making it impossible, he had always hoped to have the ability of flight. "I'm sure you're really really tough..." his voice broke off into a heavy yawn, forcing himself to realize just how tired he was. He laid himself down in the seat, and Endymion took this as the end of the conversation.

He watched the blonde slowly drift off, and he felt his heart tug inside of his chest. While the shorter male had been beautiful before - he looked like a painting when he fell asleep, all stress dropping from his features. The redhead bit into his lip a bit, and he chuckled. His tail flickered about behind him in excitement: he couldn't believe he had already made a friend. He knew that making friend's with the Dair would cause some trouble, but he didn't care. This guy was likely powerful, and strong: he needed someone like that on his side. He tried to just look out the window and stare off into space, but his pale gaze kept wandering back to Skylar.

He gave into his urges, and reached out. He softly placed his hand on the other's head, and resisted the urge to gasp. Skylar's hair looked like it had been spun from gold, and it felt even better than it looked - soft and silky. Endymion was bounding in his seat a hit, feeling free to act as childish as he wanted to. He unknowingly began to run his fingers through Skylar's hair. For a split second, he wondered if this was creepy - but he didn't care. The guy's hair was just too soft, not to touch. 

The compartment door clicked open. 
The glass was slid open to reveal a male shorter than Skylar even, but that didn't clench the wave of nerves that flew through Endymion. The man in the door bore fluffy, white locks of hair: that were haphazardly settled about his face. He wore sharp-black glasses on his face, that made his golden eyes seem to glow a bit - or it was the light of the train. He wore formal attire, all of it a matte black: save for the blazer that faded out to blue he had hanging on his shoulders, and the loosened red tie. For a moment: Endymion thought he was a drunk. 

"Well would you look at that..." the stranger chuckled deeply. "Looks like there's a molester on the train."

Endymion was confused for a moment, before he realized he was still petting Skylar's hair. He jerked his hand back, face growing warm. 
"Um, hi. I'm Endymion-"

"Don't care." The white-haired male responded and he stepped into the carriage, almost stepping on the other's tail. "So this is the rich brat everyone is talking about?" The male rolled his eyes, "He looks pretty pathetic in all honesty. And he's an idiot - shouldn't have fallen asleep."

There was a flash of silver, and Endymion jumped up. He grasped the stranger's wrist. "What the hell are you doing?!"

The other man froze, and he furrowed his brows. He revealed the bracelet and wallet he had in his hands, "Stealing his things: what else?" He wrenched his arm away from Endymion. He tilted his head, a sinister smirk crossing his features. "What? Is this guy your friend?" 

"Well, not...really...?" Endymion's voice died out on him and he was settled with a hard gaze. He swallowed and spurred up courage again, his wings twitching with irritation as his tail practically whipped at the seat. "Yes! Yes, he is. So if you don't mind - get out of our compartment." 

Skylar stirred and the red-head instantly regretted raising his voice. The stranger hummed, seeming amused by this. He shrugged, and put the blonde's things back, he put his hands into his pockets as he made his way to the door. 

"The name's Tanyin, by the way." He gave the other male a sharp look, "And I expect to meet you in the Den." 

Endymion shook his head, and clenched his fists. "Of course." 

Tanyin seemed to purr at that, and he snickered to himself as he closed the compartment door. As he vanished from sight, Endymion settled back down into his seat - and felt dread follow him down. He had felt an aura of pure bloodlust from the white-haired man: he practically reeked of evil intent. He turned his gaze to Skylar, wondering - why, he had just doomed himself for the other?

Then, he smiled a bit. Wondering if he'd get to pet Skylar's hair more for protecting him. 

He sure hoped so.

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3,517 words
Edited by Pleasenobodynoticeme