*All characters are copyright Eric Huston. Skyshadow is copyright himself.

Drakis woke up slowly, a killer headache, spawned from his overuse of willbending and dehydration, pounding in his head. It was cold too. When he came to a higher degree of consciousness, he saw that he was not alone. There was a wolf anthro, the black mane on him making him look like he belonged to the original Huntmaster's clans. He was idly watching him. Drakis looked to his side, and saw that Skyshadow was just waking up himself. He had a tracking collar on him. It was considered an extreme insult to collar an intelligent being who could not become an anthro.

He knew the routine of this place, having been here before. He got up as best he could, and dressed in the orange prison garb that was issued to the prisoners.

The wolf spoke. "Glad to see you're up and still

functioning. I wasn't sure if you were going to die or

not when they brought you in here. It looks like your

buddy is coming too as well. It's a shame they collar

them."

"I know. This isn't my first time here."

"Oh. So... do you know this wyvern?"

"Yeah. His name's Skyshadow."

A great many things passed through the wolf's mind. He decided not to make any conclusions until he could find out more about his new cellmates. "And your name is?"

"What about yours?"

"Fine. It's Regulus."

"Drakis Kellroth."

"Kellroth... it rings a bell. sounds like the Kellterens, the lords of Heaven's Gate. Any relation?"

"Don't think so. I'm back in because I tried to escape. I dragged this poor male with me when I ran into him. Literally."

Skyshadow had finally come to. "Ugh... where am I..."

"Welcome to the Seaguard Detention Facility, Skyshadow. I am Regulus. I believe you already know Drakis."

<Rather talkative, isn't he?> Drakis did his best to relax on the uncomfortable cot. If he didn't try and

recover some of his strength, he'd fry himself the next time he tried to escape.

A few days passed. Not much had changed since Drakis had left. A few of the shifts had been changed, so he did not see the typical faces. He didn't even see the scarred menace Culth, who was ALWAYS on work shift.

Time just passed into monotony as it had the last time he was in here. Then, the warden called for him.

Three Enforcer-class mecha-armors came to be his escort, with stun sticks unsheathed and activated. They led him through several corridors and through an elevator, until they reached the warden's office. When the door opened, they shoved him in and put him in the restraints up on the wall, which limited his movement down to his facial muscles, neccesary functions, and mouth. He couldn't even wiggle his fingers! The shoes prevented the humans from restraining even his toes, but a lot of good they would be to him in his current predicament.

The armors left, and the warden turned the swivel chair around. Then, Drakis saw the last person he expected to be in that seat. From the gray scales, medium-sized tailblade, reddish frill, and whitish wings, it couldn't be anyone else.

"Jessala?!"