Citizen 717 Cindavlin

Artist: Alliion

Darkness lived deep within Cindavlin, nestled between the bones of his ribcage, wrapped tightly around his heart. He hadn’t known anything but darkness, really, but it wasn’t something he felt bad about. Embracing who he was—what he was made for—hadn’t been hard at all. It came natural to him after enough time.

Still, there was much he didn’t know about the world. The unknown wasn’t something he feared, but it did bring a strange sensation to his hands. They were cold, but not shaky. He wasn’t afraid, he couldn’t be, to fear was to be weak and he would prove once and for all he was something to be feared rather than the opposite.

The poisan trench—the very area the dome was located in—could be dangerous even for the wisest rexals. It ran deep, cutting through the earth itself and leaving any rexal bold enough to explore its depths hesitant to do so even with experience on their backs. Cindavlin didn’t have any, but it wasn’t about to stop him.

Sunlight didn’t reach him by the time he had gotten deep enough to comfortably stop and look around. The area was still lit for the most part but navigating it wouldn’t be easy—good, Cindr didn’t need it to be.

Not much was there, plants, animals, and skeletons Cindr decided to ignore. They didn’t have anything worth stealing, making them worthless. Still, there must’ve been something worth taking—perhaps deeper, yes, Cinder had to swim down further away from the light if he wanted to find the very reason he had embarked on his journey.

Not many rexals could say they had swam to the bottom of the poisan trench, the skeletons around Cinder as he turned and pushed himself off of the wall he had been holding onto were enough of a reason to deter most. Cinder on the other hand almost found them boring. If the poisan trench had to be so dangerous—so scary—then why was he not affected? Whoever had spread the tale must’ve been a coward, fuck, Cinder nearly growled at the thought. If they had been wasting his time with the tales he would’ve taken the matter into his own hands, how hard could it be to become some kind of monster after all? The thought brought a smile to his face.

Once the light was gone and Cinder’s halo was all that lit up his way, he finally managed to hit the ground. His paws briefly dug until the floor below, pushing dirt away and watching it drift in the water around him. There were barely any fish around and none of that glowy flora he had seen as he swam down there. It was better, in a way, but fucking boring. Nothing to steal, barely anything to see.

Still, Cindr pushed forward. He had to, really. If the poisan trench turned out to be a boring dark hole he would’ve gotten pissed. Fortunately, something did soon appear—a light, green, glowing in the distance. What Cindavlin initially thought to be plants turned out to be a rexal and finally he figured he could have some fun.

Glowing haven of wonders or not, the poisan trench was boring, and Cindavlin wasn’t about to swim back up without tales or anything to make up for the time he had lost down there. Animals swam away from him, and despite the golden glow of his own halo the stranger didn’t see him approach until Cindr was standing just a couple of feet behind them.

They had black stripes running down their back, white cuffs around wrists and ankles. Standing just a little shorter than Cindavlin, they made for easy prey. No armor or hard scales in sight, they were dressed to explore it seemed. It was going to be a bad day for them, that was certain.

“Oh–!” The stranger turned, the fur on their back standing briefly by surprise. Their smile got wiped right off of their face when Cindavlin pulled out his knife.

“Your bag.” He didn’t waste any time, even daring to smile a little before his next words, “or your life.”

It was a practiced line, one he knew he wouldn’t get wrong—not like he got anything wrong anyway. The stranger had been digging against the trench’s walls, picking rocks or something, Cindr wasn’t sure. He figured he could try to sell anything they were picking, and hopefully he would’ve found some money in his belongings.

Except… well, it turned out that the stranger had no brain inside their fucking head given that they didn’t comply. Worse than that, they decided to reach for Cindr’s knife as if they could’ve done anything at all to stop the inevitable. At least it made his trip a little less boring.

Cindavlin wasn’t one to play with his food, nor was he one to waste much time when it came down to business. Many rexals would’ve described him as cruel, but he preferred the word clever. And, well, had the stranger been any smarter they might’ve managed to walk back home alive—maybe.

The scuffle did push the fucker’s bag open, letting anything that was inside to float in the water while Cindr dealed with its former owner. It didn’t take long, really, soon the space around them was once again lit in golden light—no green anywhere to be seen. Cindavlin didn’t even bother with the body after he made sure the fucker didn’t have anything on themselves, the trench was such a dangerous place after all, it took lives daily, with Cindr’s help or without.

He gathered back the tools, they could be sold. Some of the rocks the stranger had picked, a notebook, some dracm. Boring shit, but at least something to buy dinner with once he had gotten back in the dome. Hopefully back there Cindr wouldn’t have been nearly as bored as he felt while trying to explore the infamous poisan trench.

written by: FeralYEEHAW