chapter one || stinging the scales: Part Two: DayVoid

Instructions

“Leave me alone! Please,” a small wyvern with golden brown eyes exclaims, “please, SeaBlaze, stop!” “Why should I do that, Runt?” the larger male taunts, “afterall your dad is dead your mother is almost there too! They might as well rename you ‘SmallBoulder’!” The bullied trainee climbs to his claws and starts limping faster and faster away from SeaBlaze and the other trainees who were still laughing and boasting. Before he even knew it he was already near the border where the stingers had taken over. “DayVoid!” a familiar voice calls and the young wyvern whips his head around to see a pale blue scaled female approaching with a hog dangling from her jaws. “What are you doing here?” she continued. DayVoid glances back at the scratch on his right leg then right back at his trainer, “N-nothing, HonestLie,” he stammers “just going for a stroll.” She looks at him with a slightly disappointed look. “SeaBlaze did that to you, didn’t he?” she asks, glancing at the cut on DayVoid’s leg. He gives an embarrassed nod. “I swear,” she sighs, “me and my sister have the same conversation with him every few days. Come on let’s head back to the caves” He obeys. “It’s my fault,” he blurts out to her halfway back to camp, not daring to look her in the eyes, “if i wasn’t so small and weak you wouldn’t even have to bother scolding him.” he continued, finally looking at his teacher with a desperate look. “Hey!” she snaps “it’s not your fault that you’re…” she trails off thinking of a word that wouldn’t offend him, “you know…” “Exactly,” he mumbles and sprints ahead, disappointed that she doesn’t have the guts to call him small. No one ever treated him the same as the others because of that word, he hated that word with all of his being. If I wasn't so small, he thought, then maybe dad would still be alive. Maybe dad wouldn’t have been the first to be stung. Maybe I wouldn’t have to rely on my trainer to defend me. Maybe if I was worth something then I wouldn’t be shunned by everyone else! “But you’re not,” a strange, hollow, unfamiliar voice echoes through his mind, “you very much have a purpose.” “H-hello?” he asks, stopping and looking around confused. “Down here! You’re quite literally standing on top of me.” the voice speaks again. DayVoid looks down to see a strange helmet with a weird looking orange and white eye plastered on a silver rectangle shape on the back of the inside of it. “What are you?” he asks. “Well you can call me Herithine,” the voice speaks again in its strange accent, “put me on.” “First of all, why? Second, I don't think you’ll fit on my head?” DayVoid continued, “and third, my original question still stands.” “Ah well I guess I owe you an explanation,” the voice answers, “well for your question I am the helmet of Herithine, a mere fraction of my former body, a valiant fighter of slomoro drakes. And I have sensed that you’re deeply upset with your current situation and I believe I could help you. Now for your final question the helmet will automatically morph to fit the bearer.” “Oh,” the wyvern responds. I must be going insane if i’m talking to a mysterious helmet! He thought to himself. “Your thoughts are very valid young one,” the voice speaks, “but please for my sake please put me on your head.” “How did you…” he asks, curious how the helmet had read his thoughts. “Well I can kinda read the thoughts of any being that is touching me” Herithine answers casually. “Okay… that’s creepy,” DayVoid responds suspiciously, “but won’t everyone else notice you?” “Nope,” Herithine answers, “not unless any of them have touched me! But as far as I know it’s been centuries since a wyvern even touched me. Now let’s head to camp.” ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ⭗ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ As DayVoid approached the camp he realized that HonestLIe had already made it back before him based on her hog laying in the prey spot. He heads into the cave where the hunters sleep looking for his trainer, “HonestLie?” he asks, searching the sleeping nooks. “Right behind ya buddy” she says frightening him. “Hey um…” he trails off, digging with his claws embarrassed “I'm sorry for storming off earlier.” “You’re fine,” she says reassuringly, “but I should be apologizing too. I know how much you don’t like being…” “It’s okay,” he responds with a new confidence, “you can call me ‘small’.” “So she can call you small and I can't?” an arrogant voice speaks from the cave entrance. For the first time since he found Herithine, the helmet spoke, “Here is your chance to show me what you’re capable of, young one.”