No Story Stands Alone. In this case, I am not referring to the 'story' as in any of the other books I have written so much as the 'story' of any given character. No man is an island, and even if he was, the current and weather would shape him regardless. So it feels with all that I write. There is always more we don't get to see or explore, for one reason or another. Maybe it would spoil something later on, or maybe it's not important, or maybe I don't actually know the details of something I myself implied. For whatever reason, these smaller stories that support the main story remain untold.

Until now. Specifically, until now in the universe created by the story Innocent Hopes, Twisted Realities. In that universe, there are quite a few characters, OC and canon twisted by the story itself, and we know very little about most of them. Ideas, outlines, maybe even who they are as people, but nowhere near everything. There are stories there, stories I wanted to write but kept out to make sure the narrative in IHTR and its sequels remained focused. This anthology is a collection of those stories. Snippets of the past, present, and even, in a few cases, future. These chapters were not written in any sort of chronological order, and more so are not even going to be posted in the order I wrote them. They're also not all done, and this is one story I can't totally pre-write (I do have about ten totally written, though, so I've got a backlog).

This, of course, brings up the issue of spoiling my own past works, which every chapter will do to some degree. That is why every chapter will begin with a notice of how far one should read in the universe this resides alongside so as to not be spoiled there. There's an example down under this massive Author's Note.

As yet another consequence of what this collection is, updates will not come regularly. Rather, I will write entries when inspiration and time coincide, and will post them as soon as they are both done and not capable of spoiling anything not yet posted (some of the chapters I've already done can't be published for a very long time, for instance, because they spoil events in Usurpation of the Darkness, which we have yet to get to).

Also, a quick explanation of chapter titles. The little abbreviations beside the actual title designate which type of story each one is. We have:

(EC): Extra Canon. Anything that's canon, but not in the main stories. Like this chapter.

(DS): Deleted Scene: Something that was at some point meant to be canon, but then scrapped. Not canon now, but shown here because I liked the idea. These will be of lower quality for obvious reasons.

(AU): Alternate Universe: The most obvious of the types, these will be AUs of my own story, which is in itself an AU of canon. AU-ception! An example of what I mean in this case is the last chapter of Innocent Hopes, Twisted Realities. That sort of thing is what I mean. Some will be longer than a single chapter, and some will be one-shots.

Okay, got all of that out of the way. And of course, I'm not going to leave this chapter all one huge author's note without content. (That's actually against the site's rules, for one thing.)

Please, enjoy the first entry to this anthology.

O-O-O-O-O

CAUTION: Spoils aspects of Innocent Hopes, Twisted Realities, as well as aspects of When Nothing Remains.

Seriously, major spoilers here.

Assuming you wish to continue, read on…

Background: This is a short one, one that for a while eluded me, simply because I did not have a device to convey things, something I really like to have when writing little things like this. The one I chose to single out events in Second's terrible life ended up being a pretty weird one, but I like it, and it fits him better than even I suspected. It's not long, and not as intricate or detailed as I could make it, but that's intentional; this is also me defining something I might otherwise be tempted to expand beyond all reason. (And yes, there is actually such a thing as too much expansion or expansion in the wrong directions. Especially when I have too many things to write as it is.)

Also, a note. One of these scenes is going to be pretty dark. As always, I'm not going to be explicit, but this is Second, and something he said in WNR basically forced me to add the scene listed under Fifth. I can't exactly write this little entry without including that.

Second. His name, his rank, his designation.

His existence, defined by a number. His whole life, as brutal and terrible as it was, could be defined and explained by numbers. He sometimes thought on that, usually when in the deepest throes of the weakness known as nostalgia, though from the little he knew, nostalgia was supposed to be directed at good memories.

He had none of those, and this was one such time. He had just added a new number to the list, and every time he added a new number, he went over the rest, in order. It was a small thing, a habit, a ceremony, whatever one chose to call it. He did not speak aloud or give any sign that he was awake at all. This was his, alone in his life. A weakness nobody else would ever know, one he knew he had to discard sooner or later. One he forgot for season-cycles on end, and then randomly remembered, something weak but persistent, never going away for good. He really did need to stop entirely.

But for now, he lay motionless in the depths of a dark ship, not alone, but alone in mind. A new number had been added. What of the rest?

O-O-O-O-O

Third.

He remembered little of hatching. It was cold and dark, and there were no Dams or Sires to comfort and clean him or his twin brother. All of this was known in retrospect; all he recalled of that time was being cold and alone, except for the warm, small body beside him, the one as miserable as he was.

Then there was a jumble of bad memories. What he now knew to be a No-scaled-not-prey, one wearing scales that had mixed the smell of safety with the even then unmistakable scent of death, and the sound of words he could not understand. A cold, dark, angry presence that was almost, but not quite, around enough to care for them. Food was dropped to them from above, and they were always just cold enough to be uncomfortable.

But that was not what he had chosen to remember. His youth was a time as terrible as all the rest of his life, and less clear. He chose to remember his first clear memory, the one he had decided deserved to be remembered.

Alpha had come. He was around, watching from above, his odd face lurking above the scales known to be their Dam, but not. Power.

He watched them. Second, though he had not been given that or any name yet, watched the alpha carefully. He brought food, but he also brought pain and scorn.

Third, again devoid of any name at the time, had been huddling in a corner, as far from the alpha as possible. He growled wordless sounds of distrust.

Second, from what he recalled, had sensed something was different. The alpha was watching, waiting, expecting something. This was the first time anything had been expected of them but obedience.

What was it? Second could not recall his motivations back then; likely, given his age, they had been nonsense anyway. All he knew for sure was that he had approached Drago, warily but surely, and Drago had laughed, before pointing at him.

"Second."

Then he had pointed at Third. "Third."

At the time, Second had not understood. Later one, he knew that those were their names, and later still, he knew they were ranks, conferrable, changeable, not static. But that was later. This small, fragmented memory had been made the first on this list when he had come up with it.

Third. The name of his brother, now and as it turned out, forever. Spoken as if a condemnation. In retrospect, that was far more important than it seemed at the time.

O-O-O-O-O

Second.

A new dragon, something he knew to be as dangerous as it was interesting. This dragon was large and bulky, and had been let into their pen. He and Third, for they knew their names by this point, had not even known what the other dragon was saying. They only learned the language of their own kind later, much later. For now, they were unable to hear whatever it was the Gronckle had said. Even now, Second didn't remember it clearly enough to even guess.

What mattered, the reason this stood out in his mind, the reason he had given it a number and remembered, was that the alpha, now present more often, had struck the Gronckle before throwing it down into their pen, bound and helpless.

Third hesitated, unsure of the entire situation. Second did not. He leaped and began clawing at the creature, failing to do much thanks to inexperience and a lack of size or weight to put to his advantage. Eventually it died, but that did not stop either him or Third, who had joined in soon after Second began, seeing that Second knew what was going on.

Drago descended into the pen, unafraid of them, and laughed victoriously. He pointed at Second. "Good. You are better. You are Second." Both Second and Third understood his words, knowing the language of No-scaled-not-prey better than their own.

"I'm better," Third growled angrily, glaring at Second, and then at the alpha.

"I am," Second countered, knowing that the alpha knew best. He was glad he was better.

"I will show him." Third leaped at Second, and they fought, spurred on by their alpha's terrible laughter. It was to be the first of uncountable fights waged nearly to the point of death, fights Third rarely won.

That was the day Second and Third had both learned their alpha had a favorite, and who it was. That was the day they had ceased working together on anything at all. From then on, they were enemies kept from killing each other by their alpha, and their desire to please him. Second wanted to keep his status as favored, and Third wanted to take it.

O-O-O-O-O

Fifth.

A new test, one Second remembered far more clearly, because it had happened much later in his life. He and Third had fought, hated each other, and worked together under orders for season-cycles on end. They had learned the language of their own kind from being put with other dragons, and made to dominate them, not kill them, to become alphas of their own, but always under Drago. Betas, powerful but not their own masters. Drago wanted it that way, and he got what he wanted.

And now this. Drago ordered them into a room they both knew well by now, and they beheld two dragons tied to the ground.

This again. It was a new test, but only relatively. Neither he nor Third knew what they were to do. The dragons were already subdued, and there was nothing to order either captive to do. Freeing the previous dragons in the last version of this test had been the wrong answer; they both still bore the bruises and cuts from Drago's reaction to that.

Neither of them knew what was asked of them, and Drago did not tell them. He wanted them to figure it out and do it themselves, as he so often did. He had the answer, but chose not to give it. They were to be extensions of his will, tools that acted on his behalf. That apparently meant knowing what he wanted without him even saying it.

Or maybe he didn't know he could tell them what to do. Second had long since understood that Drago did not realize he and Third had full command of both languages. It was nothing; the alpha could not be wrong.

This was the fifth time they had been faced with the same scenario. The only thing that changed was the dragons.

"What does alpha want here?" Third growled. "There is nothing we have not tried. Killing got us beaten. Subduing and commanding got us nothing. Freeing got us beaten. Waiting got us nothing."

Third was at the end of his very small supply of patience, to be talking to Second at all. They did not talk unless forced to coordinate or work together, which did not happen often.

"Don't ask me," Second snarled back. "Figure it out."

"This is stupid. You are stupid." Third growled.

Second ignored him, but only because the solution was not fighting each other. His alpha was a creature of simple wants. Power. Always power, over others and over them. Death was not the answer, and there was no need to do anything to subdue these dragons. Two Monstrous Nightmares, as the No-scaled-not-prey called them, both female, both thoroughly subdued, tied upside-down to the ground, flat on their back, every limb and extremity pulled aside by chain.

What more could their alpha want? What could they do that he would desire in this situation? These dragons were already his, so he did not want control. But he thought of power and control at all times, always seeking to expand it to new dragons or new No-scaled-not-prey. As they grew, he and Third had been educated in the fact that they were only two of many servants of the alpha, if the two highest at the moment. Second and third to the alpha himself.

Second walked up to the nearest prisoner, and looked her in the eye. She had heard them speaking of killing, so she was very much afraid. That was normal. Her mouth was muzzled, so there would be no information gained from her. Just an anxious, wordless whine.

"Why can't our alpha be doing more useful things with us?" Third complained. His recalcitrance was why he was always Third. The alpha could sense it, the small speck of self-serving selfishness Third possessed that Second did not.

Second fully expected to have to kill Third eventually. Their alpha was testing them, and he knew there was no love lost between them, siblings or not, twins almost identical in looks or not. Drago had created and fostered the divide, so he would know it existed still.

"He is teaching us something. There is nothing more useful," Second replied, defending the alpha. He knew best.

"Nothing more useful?" Third clawed at the flank of one of the Nightmares, idly inflicting pain as he spoke, probably doing it to prevent himself from attacking Second. He knew them fighting would just fail this test once more. "Our kind is dying out; all of the dragons say so. He should be taking females of our kind into his grip and fixing that with us. That would be more useful."

"Females," Second repeated dully. The thought had crossed his mind, but any female of their kind would be just another rival, and Third was bad enough. He felt the urge; he was a newly adult dragon, so that made sense. But there were no females, and he did not need or want any to come and displace him.

"Yes, females," Third replied, getting visibly worked up. "Like these, but ones we can actually… use…"
Something had occurred to Third. Second never liked it when that happened; he was not so secure in his place as to be content in letting Third do anything better, faster, stronger, or more intelligently.

"That would never work," Third muttered, glaring at one of the female Nightmares. "But alpha does not know that, and would not care." Without any further words, he jumped onto the torso of the female Nightmare closest to him, and after a few moments of watching what came next, Second knew what they were expected to do, though it would come to nothing in the end. Third was right, their alpha would not know that.

He did it anyway, tricking himself into being able to, and ignoring the muffled cries of protest beneath him. Whatever the alpha wanted would happen. He would not be displaced by Third.

It had taken them until the fifth test to realize what their alpha wanted most of them. And it had been Third to figure it out. That, too, was more important in retrospect. This was also the first time Second had knowingly done something all dragons decried as twisted and wrong, which made the event doubly important in his list. It would not be the last time, but it was the first.

O-O-O-O-O

Eighth.

The sea was strong and rebellious on the day Third slipped away into the horizon. Second had seen it coming; his brother had grown frustrated with their alpha's inability to find them proper dark wing females, instead setting them on a never-ending parade of other kinds. It was frustrating, and Third had no patience, along with, for the first time in his life, a better plan in mind.

Second had not, on the other paw, planned to let Third leave. Third had slipped away while he was busy. Second would have stopped and killed him for trying to leave, given the opportunity.

But their alpha, or now just his alpha, didn't know that. So he was beaten until he could barely stand, thrown into the smallest cage that would fit his body without suffocating or crushing him, and hauled to the deck of the alpha's largest ship. They sailed in pursuit of Third.

Second suffered for eight days and nights, out in the open, unfed and only watered by the intermittent rain. Third's fault. All Third's fault.

On the eighth day, Drago gave up and let him out of his cage. Second was entirely unable to stand, and tumbled forward only because his body was finally able to move at all. Drago's metal-toed boot rested in front of him.

"Going to try and leave?" Drago growled, looking down at him with those mind-piercing eyes.

They held that position for a long time.

"No," Drago eventually growled, speaking mockingly, his anger at Third's treachery obviously still strong and new. "Second is loyal." He lifted his boot up, as if preparing to stamp down right in front of Second's nose.

Second knew what was required of him. He slid his tortured body forward, sticking his head firmly under the boot.

"Second is loyal," Drago repeated to himself. "Time to start using you."

Eighth. The day of searching on which Drago forgave him for the crime of his brother. The day he was declared Second for good, or at least until another came to challenge him for the title. The day he knew Third would not be brought back, and thus was out of his life, perhaps for good.

A good day.

O-O-O-O-O

Eleventh.

"Kill."
Second didn't need to be told twice. He leaped at the frightened No-scaled-not-prey who had displeased his alpha, and tore them limb from limb. This was his first time fighting real, living, armed No-scaled-not-prey, and he took many injuries, but none of them could seriously wound him, and he had far more natural weapons than they did.

When he was done, dripping blood, both his own and not, he turned back to his alpha. The time of testing was officially over, but he knew a test when he saw one. Had he passed?

Drago pointed at one of the mangled, nigh-unrecognizable bodies. "Feed."

He knew that command too. He also knew dragons called them No-scaled-not-prey for a reason.

But his alpha commanded him to do it, so he did. It helped that he had not been fed for several days leading up to this, but he would have done it anyway. He did more and worse for his alpha. Whatever was required of him. Unlike Third, Second was loyal.

O-O-O-O-O

All old memories, from long ago. Second glanced over at the occupant of the cage across the hall, the female dark wing sleeping uneasily, growling as she exhaled. A new number to add to the list.

First.

The first he had known of her was a rare laugh of genuine approval from Drago, directed at the man who had just boarded his ship. "You did very well. We will speak later of payment; have it taken to my ship's brig and tied to the wall by the tail, as well as muzzled to prevent fire, but nothing else."

That was an odd set of commands. Second watched as a cage was brought up onto deck and then back below. It was draped with cloth, to prevent the dragon inside from seeing anything worth firing at.

Later that day, Drago sent him down to the brig with an enlightening instruction. "Mate."

That, he knew. So it was to be yet another helpless female of another kind of dragon. That gave him no joy. Nothing ever did, but that definitely did not. He would do it because it was required of him. Nothing more.

Then he had walked into the brig and saw her. She was spitting mad, looking to be about to dislocate her tail with her frenzied yanking on it, as it was secured to the wall, but definitely a dark wing, a blue and grey one.

So this was to be a true mating, then. Finally. He would be far less unhappy about this than what he had expected. It was still very, very wrong, as she would undoubtedly fight him and refuse to do anything willingly, but his alpha ordered, it, so-

Then her scent hit him. The scent he had not thought to smell ever again, weakened, mixed, but still there.

First. The first time he had ever disobeyed his alpha's orders, because he was better than Third, and this was Third's daughter.

O-O-O-O-O

Second shifted uneasily. He could not explain why he drew this line, only that he did, and could not break it. This was also Third's fault, for sure, and from this dark wing's words, Third's despicable act at work. Even away from their alpha, his brother was a monster, just as they had both been raised and trained to be.

But Second was loyal. He wouldn't do it, for his alpha's own sake. Drago would not want the twisted offspring of a male and said male's twin's daughter; that would do nothing but weaken the line.

That was wrong. He discarded that excuse. His alpha would want it, as something was better than nothing, but he could not do it. The line existed here, despite everything. He had not thought himself capable of drawing lines in his own actions when the alpha would have none but loyalty.

Second shifted uneasily, hating himself. Not taking Storm for a mate made him better than Third, but it also made him worse than Third. Not forcing himself upon family, but betraying the alpha. Those two things…

Were those equal? No, not at all, but he was making the trade anyway. This was the only time he would disobey his alpha.

Second was loyal. That, and his refusal to violate Storm, was all he had. But two good things were more than one, the one he had always held on to. Now there were two.

He almost wanted to thank Third for giving him another way to be better. But Third was dead. Too bad; Second would have liked to find him and dismember him in some suitably vindictive fashion. For Drago.

Second was loyal.

Author's Note: Nothing actually new there, aside from maybe seeing that Third's later actions and the motivation behind them was actually what drove him to leave Drago in the first place. I really just wanted to put all of Second's implied past in the same place, with enough vagueness that I can mess with a pre-Second Drago if need be. We still don't know how or even for sure when he lost the arm, or how he got the eggs, or the skin of their Dam… but it's all pretty firmly implied here and elsewhere.

Also, in case anyone is wondering, this entire entry is so sparse on details because Second is recalling it all. He's not a very descriptive person, and this isn't something he wants to remember in every detail. Just the bare-bones meaning behind each thing.