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“And I’ll call him Big Softie,”

… Sigh. Why was he not surprised? Alessio vaguely reminded Hades of Venus. Granted, Venus was a lot younger and into anything that was cute and adorable. This quirk led to her bring home any and all small animals she could get her hands on (squirrels, birds, and hamsters).

Yes, there were similarities.

“You should braid your hair so it doesn’t get in your face when you’re fighting and it’s a smaller targe- uh…I mean…”

Changing the conversation quickly. That felt familiar.

“Alright. Thank you.” Leana answered a bit awkwardly.

She then turned to Alessio. “Saeb Lyn means ‘Hard Soft’, roughly.”

Leana then addressed Hades. “It is one of the most beautiful and strong ironies in the world. To be able to be fierce, but also gentle.”

… “Interesting.” Hades commented, “But I don’t believe I’ll ever answer to that name.”

And giving his real name would not help him in this situation. It was in that moment that Alessio snapped a support from the table, along with a part of the tablecloth.

Not that Hades could say that he hadn’t seen similar feats of strength.

“You should be able to fight with this fairly well, even with limited experience.” Alessio explained to Leana.

“Thank you…” Leana said awkwardly.

“Uh…h-here…” Alessio stuttered, before handing her the improvised club.

Leana quickly set to work on getting her hair tied back. The now designated club was leaned against the table. It looked reasonably heavy. Perhaps it wasn’t that bad of a weapon.

Alessio suddenly blurted out loud. “What’s Eaziziun Wahid mean?”

With a puzzled look on her face, Leana paused.

…

“It means ‘Dear One’ Or ‘Valuable’. ‘Precious’. ‘Beloved’. Eaziziun means those… and more.” Leana stated, “Wahid means ‘One’. ‘Singular’. ‘No other like it’.”

A title, perhaps? She knew what the words meant, so the only explanation for her bewilderment was that Alessio knew the words.

“How do you know those words?”

The language could have cultural value to her people. The Artificials had whispered about an older written dialect that was often used by those in high positions of power to keep secrets. It was forgotten by the common people, when they forbid the teaching of it. Even to this day, many of the secrets the lords kept are undiscovered.

“Um…Nithel, he’d say it a lot when…when I was upset…” Nithel?

Alessio suddenly seemed more open, like an entirely different person for a few moments, as he spoke. “He was kind to me, even though I’m…difficult.”

“That was the first time in years,” Alessio murmured in a small voice, “someone treated me like a person.”

… … … Personhood… … Something that he had forsaken long ago.

 

Sherlock didn’t know where he was. He felt disoriented, as he stumbled in the cave. He started to recover his awareness, as he scanned the location. It was a cave, with many strange symbols. One of which he recognized. The symbol of the elven country and the dragon empires, both combined into one. His business emblem. A reminder of what he was. He wasn’t a dragon. He wasn’t an elf. He was just something in between, living in a society that was considered human. There were other symbols as well, such as a dice, a country flag and others that weren’t familiar to Sherlock.

“HOW COULD YOU?!” A betrayed voice shrieked.

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT WOULD DO THAT?!”

There were people. It was that group again! HOWHOWHOWHOW!?!?

Wait, there was one missing. Nithel, wasn’t it? He was gone. There were also a few new people. Odd people. Perhaps he could get some information. Although better save the guy who was getting attacked.

Powering up, Sherlock held out on hand glowing with white, bright aether. He lifted the attacker off the guy, continuing to hold up the guy.

The victim of the attack, a man with silver hair, sent him a look. “Well hello new person, and who might you be?”

Something about this guy seemed off. But Sherlock needed information. He would lie, manipulate, and control, until he got his information.

“My name is Sherlock Holmes. I’m private detective.”

The person seemed human, but Sherlock looked mostly human too. The only give away was his mismatched eyes and his light skin color.

“Nathair.” the man introduced himself, “You actually remind me of someone who looks rather similar to you.”

What? How? Who could he be…? Wait a second. No, it can’t be. It couldn’t be. Right?

The prolonged silence seemed loud, until Sherlock spoke the one word he hated the most.

… “Arsene…”

“Yes I believe that’s the one.” Naithar stated with a smile on his smug face, “Fantastic wardrobe…”

“ARSENE!” Sherlock lost it as the scales on his right arm formed.

Full of renewed frustration, Sherlock smashed his scale-clad hand into the cave wall, shattering stone. His white scales shined in the fire light of the cave, as the slowly turned back into the elven skin.

Oh why? Why did he have to put up with this life?

“Arsene. What’s your connection to him?”