Chapter 5
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A Piece of the Past

"M-mom?..." Naloth asked timidly. It had been so long. Did she even recognize him? The adult Nadder lifted her head toward her son, not quite believing her golden eyes.
"Naloth?…" she questioned in slight amazement. "Is it really you?....." The two years she had been imprisoned had drained all the healthy color about her scales. The once bright Purple dragon was now a sickly pale purple. She hadn't seen sun since she left the cave in fury. She always planned to come back... She was just angry, but she was spotted above outcast territory and captured before she could even think of turning back around to apologize.
Naloth simply looked at her with tears in his eyes and sat against the cold, iron bars that she was behind. He wanted the warm embrace he missed for two years... But at the moment this was as close as he would get to it.
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Days, weeks, months went by as nothing filled the hole in the poor child's heart. His dad was gone and he had to accept that. The only problem was that he couldn't. Without his father around, his mother only got worse in the abuse toward him. Most of the time it wasn't physical, usually it was mental. Excellinor would scream at him for doing absolutely nothing wrong. Secretly she was trying to develop the kid to have a hardened heart, not soft like his father. At the moment it was soft, as everything she said hurt him even more, but as time went on, he started blocking everything she said. He decided if people thought he was worthless, he was going to be wonderful compared to them.
Unfortunately the Outcast's point of view of the word 'wonderful' was way different than any of ours. When someone thinks 'wonderful' in terms of personality, they usually would mean sweet and trustworthy. The outcasts gave 'wonderful' a whole different definition. Their 'wonderful' was vile, cruel, and selfish, and that's what Alvin became…
During those months, Alvin wasn't the only one who had shot up like a weed. Naloth had too, and as soon as he was no longer small enough to hunker down in the tall grasses, he was imprisoned along with his mother. The outcasts had no sympathy for any dragon whatsoever, much less after their chief was killed by one.
The small Nadder's anger grew as he spent days with his mother and him in separate cages. His father was right, humans were only capable of hatred, not love. Alvin had no clue his old friend was captured, he had forgotten all about him. All he could focus on was being a perfect outcast just so his mother and everyone around him would accept him.
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"All you have to do is be someone you're not.... It's simply acting... In a way..." Alvin stated to himself while looking under his bed for something he had lost. The twelve year old bit his lip as he tried to reach out and feel if he could find it.
His pale hand felt something sharply brush over his finger tips. With a yelp, he drew his hand back and quickly applied pressure to the small cut with the end of his shirt. It wasn't bleeding terribly, just a little, but it hurt nonetheless.
He slowly peeked his head under the bed in search of what had hurt his finger. It happened to be a small, but incredibly sharp, green scale.
Moving it through his fingers, as if to not cut himself again, he observed the dirt covered scale that had paled since it hadn't seen the sun in who knows how long. Maybe four years…
Alvin rose a brow with no recollection of where the scale came from, and continued to search for his missing object.
"Finally..." He stated as he finally found the black dagger he needed. Getting to his feet, he put the scale on his bedside table and went downstairs in a hurry, not paying any attention to the creaky steps.
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"What happened to your hand?..." An outcast about Alvin's age raised an eyebrow. Although the same age, he was a lot more bulky and strong then Alvin was. Alvin had grown into a cunning, slender boy, and compared to everyone else he looked way smaller.
"What's it to you?" Alvin snapped in a slightly rude way, the exact way any Outcast would. The other boy was fixing to respond in the same tone but thought better of it seeing as Excellinor was his mother. Looking ahead, Alvin saw that it was his time to shoot at the target that was in front of the Outcast boys in training. He simply smirked, elegantly drew a thin silver arrow from his quiver, and adjusted it in the bow.
His fingers rested on the wood of the weapon as he drew back the string with the other hand. The other boys simply rolled their eyes. The last time they had seen him shoot had been at the deer fiasco. But Alvin had been practicing you see…
The child's smirk turned into a smug grin, knowing very well that he had it perfect. Letting the arrow fly, it hit the target in a beautiful arc that far beat any of the others'. The other boys gawked at that. It was too much. First Alvin had changed his whole self image over the course of a few years, then he had perfected his athletic skill? How in the world could one do that? It's called persistence. Most of the time people use persistence for good things... But it can also be a horrible thing.
In being persistent, Alvin had an entire act in his head, a particular character, you could say. All he had to do was be like that character that he cunningly pulled off and everyone accepted him.
Like a infectious disease, the feeling of being accepted went snaking throughout his brain and eventually got to his heart. He ached for the feeling so much that it actually started affecting his real character. Of course by the time he realized it… it was too late…
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Time kept moving rapidly and finally the small boy was a growing teenager. He had shot up like a weed, but was still the same slender, cunning boy he had always been, just taller… and of course with a slightly more darkened heart.
Alvin was twiddling with a small throwing knife just as Excellinor came bursting through the door muttering something about how her 'plan' was 'foolproof'. "Be ready to leave for Uglithug Territory soon." Was the only thing she said directly to Alvin.
"How soon?" Alvin questioned, with a hint of normal teenage aggravation.
"A few months…" His mother answered while grabbing a vile of some sort of poison.
"How many months?..." He asked in irritation. His mother wasn't really giving him much information.
"About two."

"In the middle of my birthday?…"

"Honestly, Alvin, it's not that important. It comes every year."

"Once every year..." He muttered.
Excellinor groaned. "Just do as you're told for once in your life..." That struck a wrong cord in Alvin, making him have an urge to go upstairs... Alone... With no disturbances.
" 'Just do as you're told for once in your life...' " He mocked. "Oh, you mean like changing my entire self image just to match your desires?" Alvin growled. "Honestly, sometimes I suppose it doesn't matter who I am. There's just no way to please her."