There are a lot of things I want to do and you’re getting in my way.

Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 2nd Generation
Current Date: April 25, 2058

Character: Cedrik Kashka
Race: Dragon – Reikaru
Age: 72, physically about 24
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
 

---

I think I’ve recently met my biological mother. I know that it was a dream. I know that it was my mind that made it all up, but just the same, I feel as though I’ve met the woman who gave up her essence to bring me forth and I feel… cheated.

Rightfully so, I don’t know if the way my mind has put together the image of her in any way truly did make sense. All I have to base myself on is what Ceries has told me of Renah, and it was a long time ago. After I devoured my way through what little there was to read on our species, I think I ended up just sort of putting things aside, in a way. I knew what there was to know—of the knowledge that had been put into writing—and that was mostly it. At the point during which I learned of my species and the rest, the world was still alive and well, but Ceries seemed unwilling to tell me the potential location of where they had last been.

He told me that even if he did tell me that location, the group in itself did tend to move somewhat from one spot to another, usually within a certain distance of their original starting point but still. That it had been long enough since he and Renah—and Hatsuo—had left that it would be impossible to pinpoint their proper location and that, somehow, he didn’t know that they would be very welcoming of strangers, even if the blood in these strangers was their own if you would.

So, I learned to let it go.

A few nights back, however, I found myself dreaming of Renah. I’ve seen a small handful of photos; it’s all there was. It seems as though neither Ceries nor Renah—nor Hatsuo, as far as I’m aware—were much for taking photos and Ceries and Renah were just so young and still so fresh away from the so-called nest that photos just weren’t common, I guess.

Still, I’d had enough in the photos I’d seen of her—even so long ago—that my mind, in its dream state, was able to bring forth this visualization. I don’t know if the voice she spoke to me with was her voice. There is no recording of that and no true means for me to try and imitate her to ask Ceries about it. I don’t know that I would manage that very well as is. I do know that her voice, in my dream, was somewhat higher pitched than I think I might have imagined it being, at one point. It’s been so long since I gave this any thought.

In the dreams, she was oddly snarky. I know that Ceries has told me a few times that Renah was fairly quiet—they all were, it seemed—if playful at times, but he never mentioned snark as being one of her marking traits, so again, I have no real idea as to why my mind went down the pathway it did.

In some way, I feel as though I wanted to believe that she would be gentle and kind to me, at least in the dream. Mothers—most of the time—at meant to be, well, mothering, right? Not so much. She seemed cold and calculating when it wasn’t the snarky attitude taking centre stage. I really don’t know what happened earlier in that dream that led to this dream.

To keep it short, I feel as though she had no desire whatsoever to be in my presence. That I was a bother to her; that there were a lot of things she wanted to do—a lot of things she would have done—but I got in the way. Those are words she spoke to me in the dreams; words that make little sense when I remember how Ceries actually tried to dissuade her to give up her essence to bring me forth. She was ready and willing to make that sacrifice and in no way, of the few times he told me the story, did he make it seem as though it was a burden to her, and she was doing it out of necessity.

So, I don’t know what to make of that dream. Yes, my mind made up a figure that resembled the young woman—the teenager, since she wasn’t even eighteen—who gave herself up so I could be alive. But that is about the only point that makes any sense. Her attitude didn’t make any sense when I think about how she was always spoken of, her behaviour, her voice, nothing but the image seemed to be of her, and I guess that this is possibly why I feel cheated.

Not that there’s much I can do about it.

Final Word Count: 815

I know we haven’t had the easiest time, but we made the best of it, didn’t we?

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Cedrik Kashka
Race: Dragon – Reikaru
Age: 70, physically about 24
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
Final Word Count: 788 words
 

---

I’d studied all I could find about the species. There wasn’t much to it. It’s a new species that had been found at one of the getaway spots that were on the water and the fish itself was new; there was nothing in the database about it and that seemed to only make it all the more interesting. I offered to take in one of the few that had been brought in; it wasn’t as though I was a newbie as far as taking care of fishes was concerned.

The short version of things is that things turned out to be much harder than I had expected them.

The longer version is, well, a little longer.

The fish was fairly small when it was given to me in its secured and sealed bowl of salt water because, of course, it was gotten from the ocean, and it required salt water to live. Though later research—not by yours truly—discovered that they didn’t really need salt water, they adapted to fresh water, but they lost their gorgeous shine.

I had an empty tank that had been converted into a salt water one a few months prior. The fish I had been keeping in the tank hadn’t fared very well and it had been sitting empty for some time. So I had given it a good scrub, I’d filled it up again, the water was clear, the salt content was as it should have been, I’d even gotten more of the food I’d been feeding the prior fish and, all in all, everything seemed like it would have gone well.

It didn’t.

For one thing, it took forever to acclimate to the water. The temperature was the same, the salt content was the same, everything was identical. By the time I finally shifted it from the container to the water, it sort of went into shock in a way, I guess. It started floating up on its side and I was pretty sure that it was dead. I checked on it and it actually was still moving just barely so I gave it time. I didn’t give it any extra food, I didn’t fuss with it.

I checked back an hour later and it had actually moved back down a bit into the tank, so I knew that it wasn’t dead though it seemed to not be appreciating its enclosure. In a way, I suppose I couldn’t blame it. A lot of people believe that a fish’s memory is really short, but I think otherwise and, in a way, maybe it knew that it was now in a limited environment.

At that point, I didn’t have much of a choice, it was a new species, I didn’t know how it would take to any of the others I had in my bigger salt water tank and I didn’t want to take any chances until more was known.

It would keep statue still any time I walked by or even just glanced at it. I had a camera set not far, so I knew that it did swim around a little while I wasn’t around, and it was eating the food that I was giving it. So not all was lost. Again, I likely was little more than a huge alien for this little thing so I couldn’t blame it for its behaviour.

Let’s just say that it took about four months before it stopped playing statue whenever I would even just walk on by. I just gave it all the time it needed, every few days I would sit by the tank and just quietly talk to it because, you know, some of the other fishes seem to respond when I do talk to them. Though I figure it’s most likely just my presence but still. Fishes are smarter than some people think.

At one point, I recall telling it, though it still was playing statue for the most part, that we clearly hadn’t had it easy in getting along but I figured that we’d made the best of it.

By now, it still is in its own tank, but I’ve moved it closer to the salt water one so that I might be able to keep track of potential interactions. There still are two heavy panes of glass between the two, so I know that I shouldn’t have any issues, but it seems mesmerized, and I know that fish can actually be mesmerized. It would follow the movement of the ones that would come closer, and I don’t know, almost have conversations, in a way. It’s hard to put into words how it all looks.

All in all, I’m pretty happy about how things are turning out, though.

It’s not fun if I don’t get to dramatically complain along the way.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Cedrik Kashka
Race: Dragon – Reikaru
Age: 69, physically about 24
Final Word Count: 666 words
 

---

If I keep this up, people are going to start thinking that I’m obsessed with fishes but it’s not quite right. On the same note, they wouldn’t be wrong but it’s still not quite the whole story.

Yes, I love fishes.

There just are so many different types of them though I tend to stick so particular species or sizes because I feel as though it’s the safest route for me to take. Not that I wouldn’t be able to take care of them no matter what, but I applaud Madison for the fact that she’s able to keep sharks in her tanks. These guys feel like they would require so much more care than I could focus on that I wouldn’t be able to do it.

So I keep to fishes. There are several tanks and one of them is a full-wall worth of it. It was strange at first, as it was being put up—because I insisted on trying to get all of it done myself instead of just asking for it to be just put there all done and free of fuss. The main installation came with the house as we set it up, but the inside of the tank itself, that was us just working together.

I think it took us a couple of days to just get it set up the way we wanted to. It’s on several levels and that took some coordination because each level has its own vegetation and sand and all. The fishes can swim from one to the other and it’s just something to behold, really. It’s perfect.

In the earlier summer months, there was need for some rather intensive overhaul and through some careful manoeuvring we were able to move the fishes from the main tank off to other recipients and others were even set to the tub. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that we had fishes everywhere but the toilet at this point.

Of course, several of the buggers complained very dramatically all along their short transport to their temporary new home and, once it was time for them to be brought back to their main tank, they did just the same. You’d think that they believe it’s fun to flail and blub and do whatever fishes do to express their discontent.

It’s not as though we were being rough with them but I get it, they’re not used to being handled and most of them had been in there for what felt like forever. I’m pretty sure that some had even had little fishies of their own. Still, as carefully moved one of the bigger guys off into our cleaned and treated tub, I swear it was giving me this look as though he only had fun when he dramatically complained whatever it had to be handled. I’m weird, yes, bear with me. This guy even tried to take a bite out of my finger!

It took a couple of hours to drain the tank, three more to clean it out and reset things for the overhaul and about that long to fill it back up.

Could I not have just sent a request for the tanks to be cleaned out and overhauled without any of the necessary physical efforts? Yes. Would I have done it? No. These fishes are part of my weird family; I’d prefer to be the one to handle everything that has to do with them if I can help it.

Of course, it took some hours more to acclimate all of the floaters back into the tank and, by the end of the day; I think we both slept like the dead because we’d just been so exhausted. All in all, though, I’d like to think that it was worth all of the effort. The change is beautiful. I won’t want to do another one for several more years—decades, I’m sure—down the road but I think that’s why it’s so worth it.

Internally, I’m trying to keep myself from yelling at you.

 
Timeline/World: Atheria – 2nd Generation
Characters: Cedrik Kashka
Race: Dragon – Reikaru
Age: 68, physically about 24
Final Word Count: 697 words
 

---

Growing up without your biological parents can go many different ways. It can go just fine, maybe because you’re unaware of who that parent or those parents are; it probably can go to hell because the adults raising you just aren’t cutting it; or it can be a bit of a roller coaster and I think my childhood can be summed up with a bit of option a and option c. It’s not that I was unaware of who my biological mother was, I knew. It’s one of the first things Ceries told me when I was old enough to understand how our species worked.

I think it’s more the fact that while I was a mostly peaceful child, I still had my rare but powerfully angry days. Days, I believe, they both expected and handled as best as they could. When he first told me about how I’d come to be, I’d been confused, it hadn’t made much sense and learning that he wasn’t my real father—we look so much alike—broke something in me and I wanted to scream and yell at him and I did a little. That little phase didn’t last very long.

It’s in my teenaged years that things changed somewhat. I devoured my way through every book on our species I could find—which, at that point, there weren’t many but Tahira managed to find a whole collection, with some help, I’m sure, once the world was beginning to crumble away. I learned so much about who we were, about the sacrifice of one’s life to bring another into the world. About how inter-species births were impossible, all of it. Somehow, our numbers were meant to remain exactly as they were, or so they all thought but there was this one, huge flaw in all of these history books.

Sure, sacrificing your life and going through a small ritual—a few words spoken from the heart more or less—would allow your essence to bring a new child forth into this life but what about all the ones who passed on from old ages, the ones who were hunted, the ones who were ill? They could, I suppose, say those words, bringing about the ritual and their essence would bring a little one about but what if that little one—especially in the case of the ones who were not near the rest of our own because we didn’t roam much, Ceries, Renah and Hatsuo were exceptions I learned—was born without anyone else around them? What if that little one had no idea as to how things are meant to go, the words to speak, the fact that they can have no child of their own otherwise? They will simply, eventually, pass on in their sleep and our numbers will diminish.

Now, it’s not much if you think about it all. Considering they usually remained all within a certain area, they could all watch over one another but there still were places to defend and the old didn’t always die with company. You can’t go through the ritual when you pass in your sleep. You can’t go through the ritual if you’re choking on your blood.

How many of us were truly left before the world ended? Who the hell created this messed up species whose numbers could not grow beyond what they had first been when they evolved into what we are? I mean, we’re dragons, feathered ones, but we’re dragons nonetheless. How is it that we evolved into what we are now, into this quite literally ‘closed’ species?

It feels like a bad movie where royalty will only sleep with royalty to keep the ‘blood’ clean and yet just, it all feels like an absolute mess to me and I wanted to rage so much when I read these books, I did.

What good would it have done me, however? They’re most likely all gone. Ceries tells me he no longer feels the faint connection there had been before and Hatsuo doesn’t either. So that’s it. There are three of us left. We have forever, we’ll be all right but I still think everything was pretty stupid.

You can’t stay in a bubble for the rest of your life.

Timeline/World: Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Cedrik Kashka
Race: Dragon – Reikaru
Age: 66, physically about 24
Final Word Count: 525 words

---

When you start talking to your fish and you expect them to understand you, I think it’s time to take a step back from what you’re doing and sort of look your life over to see if you can’t find out where the train last was when you stepped off and why you stepped off when you did. I mean really? What was I thinking, staring at the little shimmery blue-green fish just floating in his bag of water, acclimating to his new tank and telling him he couldn’t stay in his bubble all of his life?

I’ll tell you what I was thinking: I have no idea.

How’s that for an answer? Pretty sure that’s not what you expected considering I just said I was going to tell you what I was thinking.

Life’s like that though. You don’t always get the answers you wish you did and when you stop and look back you wonder why you even asked that question at all.

Where was I?

Right. I was looking at this fish in his water bag, floating on top of the rest of the water in the tank that would be his home for the rest of his likely pretty short life and telling him that he couldn’t stay in that protective bubble all of his life. Did he answer me? Maybe. He did blow a couple of bubbles my way but somehow I don’t think that was an answer, that was just a normal fish thing and I’m just crazy to think that this particular fish can talk to me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dissing the new guy who was gifted with the whole marine life godhood bit—yeah, news and rumours travel fast enough—but these fishes, while I don’t believe in the whole three-second memory span, I still don’t think they’d be smart enough to understand human speech or demon speech or whatever speech, at least not enough to talk back.

I don’t even know why I told that fish what I did. I just did and when it was time to open that bag and let him loose into his tank, he didn’t want to come out. I think that was the amusing part of the whole thing. I opened the bag, tipped it carefully to the side and… he stayed at the end of it. Just not moving, floating tail. So I turned the back upside down, carefully and pulled it back, fish, water and all went into the tank and that was that.

End of the story for the fish who wanted to live in a bubble for the rest of his life. This, as we all know, is bullshit because there was no way I could be aware of what that fish might have wanted. Who knows, maybe it wanted to end up in a sushi plate but really, that’s just suicidal and I wouldn’t do that to the poor guy. He’s had enough stress just from the trip home in his little bag; he doesn’t need to believe that I would put him on my plate to eat him.