The small lightbulb illuminating Katima's dirty, cramped cell flickered on and off unreliably. The gritty chiseled walls that had surrounded the bipedal dragon creature for seven years now continued to feel as rough as ever. The monotony of the same few sensations, the same flickering light and the same cheap meals repeating themselves for so long had dulled Katima's former wit and fiery energy into unreadable acceptance. His red scales fared not much better than his mind, being very dirty and weathered from the length of time he had spent exposed to the filth of the cell's dusty floors.
Usually by the time they'd been there seven years, dragon-borns like him were already broken into submission, if they hadn't already been sold off. Katima was allowed to stay contained for so long solely because, despite not expressing the appreciation and love for captivity that he was expected to have formed by now, he didn't contest, didn't talk back and didn't make anyone's jobs harder, all things that would probably have led to him being killed. Katima's schedule essentially just consisted of eating the mediocre meals, attempting to sleep against the gritty stone wall, working to maintain any memories he deemed important and trying to ignore the protocol handcuffs digging into his wrists. Even if they weren't there as a constant reminder of what he was, he probably would have still stayed in his cell. Escaping would only get him killed, after all. Dragon-borns are strong for certain, but they stand no chance against the modern day human weaponry like guns, missiles and tanks.
Most of the humans never paid much mind to the rehabilitation systems. They were used to dissecting hatchlings in science class, a little long-form reeducation was nothing. Rehabilitation was marketed like punishment of sorts. Only lawbreakers got turned in to the markets, but nowadays so much as breathing incorrectly is against the law. If someone like Katima wanted to live on their own, they'd essentially have to be under constant watch from the United States government, which hardly counted as "living alone" anyways.
Katima had been there long enough to start up a rumor mill of sorts around the city, rumors about him being some unbreakable powerhouse that refused to let himself be sold. Katima was made aware of this by the workers that kept watch over him, as they made no attempt to quiet their voices whenever they passed by his cell. Katima never spent much thought on just how powerful he was, he just felt that trying anything rebellious wasn't worth it. He did wonder how much he would go for on auction, and whether the novelty of owning an urban legend would affect it at all. If anyone really wanted to show him off, they likely would have already paid the nigh extortionate extra fee to buy him while he's still contained, but Katima naturally assumed that was not going to happen.
As soon as that thought came to his mind, Katima heard the sound of two pairs of footsteps moving towards him. The sounds of the footsteps always added substance to the monotony of Katima's existence, but when the guard began to unlock the heavy steel door, Katima felt surprise for what felt like the first in years. Katima couldn't help but overhear the conversation between the two humans. One of which was very clearly one of the guards, nothing new for Katima. The other was more unfamiliar and interesting, being slightly slower, softer and quieter. Katima wasn't sure whether this implied weakness, reservation or both.
"Are you sure about this, man? This one might eat you alive." the guard said, unlocking the door.
"Why should you care what I do after you get your money?" the other voice questioned, thinly veiling contempt that anyone smarter than the guard would have noticed.
The stark light coming from the ceiling hit Katima like a million suns, rendering the dragon-born blind for a few seconds while he readjusted. He made out two figures, and as his vision cleared he was able to see that they were looking down at him.
Katima first heard the rather gruff voice of the plump security guard that had been keeping watch over him for almost all of his containment. "I'm not gonna lie, he probably ain't worth it. Untrained, dirty, a bit weak looking..."
Neither Katima nor the mysterious buyer thought (or cared) to respond to the security guard's words, leaving an uncomfortable silence that Katima used to observe the man that was presumably buying him. He wore a blud unironed suit with eyes that didn't necessarily appear threatening, but at the same time still discomforted Katima. The man looked like he had the ability to do whatever he wanted, a prospect that Katima somewhat envied.
The guard attached a metal rod to Katima's handcuffs and escorted him through the market's back holding facility, allowing Katima to get a good look at his surroundings. Being locked in the same cell for so long allowed him to be intrigued by every tiny detail of the long lifeless office hallways they passed through. The heavy yellowish tint of the wallpaper, the epoxy-coated floor, and the flickering rectangular lights all marveled Katima, despite the fact that he had seen things like them prior to his imprisonment. The sheer length of his stay at the market reduced this period in his life to general memories and concepts, the fact that he was still a child when he was first imprisoned not helping matters. Katima took and gratefully savored the chance to forget his grim situation for just a moment and admire the little things around him.
As Katima let his mind continue to wander, the guard fetched some crumpled up contracts from his back pocket, which the buyer quickly signed. He sped through the process, and gave brief, simple answers to every question. Of the many small things Katima took note of, the man's clear disdain for both the guard and the market as a whole were among them.
Soon enough, the seemingly endless paperwork was settled, and Katima officially belonged to this stranger. Checking the ownership papers, Katima could see his name was "Dominic Miller." Considering all the things that purchased dragon-borns were commonly used for, Katima wasn't sure whether he'd still be alive by the end of the day.
One of the things that Katima had wondered about the most during his containment was the sun. He could remember it for sure, but remembering is certainly different than feeling. Katima could certainly not deny that anticipation began to build as Dominic opened the door, an anticipation that was killed the moment he saw the gloomy, cloudy skies that looked down on him, looking almost as hopeless as Katima himself.
As they exited the building, Dominic looked around the empty parking lot, his unpleasant attitude shown inside being maintained as he couldn't find what he was looking for. Katima was confused by Dominic's lack of attempt to restrain him in any way and prevent him from escaping, especially considering he didn't even seem to pay the living being he had purchased any mind whatsoever. Katima could have very easily just flown away, but he figured that if he tried Dominic would have had him captured and killed.
Once Dominic concluded that his ride wasn't anywhere to be seen, he took his phone from his pocket, murmuring to himself. "Late, of course. I don't know why I even tolerate this anymore."
A few deafeningly silent moments later, a limousine pulled into the large grey field that sat below the building. Dominic entered the back of the vehicle, nonchalantly wagging two fingers to get Katima to follow without so much as looking back at him. Katima joined him in the vehicle with hesitation, still feeling like something was wrong with Dominic.
Katima sat in the back corner of the large limousine, making an effort to make himself look as small and unnoticable as possible. It was at that moment that he noticed how hard that would be, as he was significantly larger than Dominic. The velvet carpeting and smooth scarlet string-lights coated the cab in red, which was far more flattering on Katima's similarly colored scales than the harsh yellow lights he had just passed through. Dominic's eyes didn't necessarily show anger, or fear, or pleasure, only intense intrigue, an intrigue that made Katima feel as if he was doing something wrong.
Katima's attention drew to the stoic chauffeur, who hadn't even seemed to have noticed the large beast that his boss had brought back into the cab with them. He concentrated on the back of the man's head, at which point he might as well have started counting every hair of the man's buzz cut. His gaze was interrupted when Dominic slid up the partition, hiding the man from Katima's view.
"No point looking at Gary. He doesn't matter."
Being directly addressed for the first time in years made Katima jump. Dominic chuckled lightheartedly when he noticed this.
"Oh, I completely forgot. Can you even talk? I know seven years alone in a cell is hardly good vocal training."
Katima froze, pondering over Dominic's question. Could he, even? After a few more painful seconds, Katima finally responded.
"Yes."
Katima took note of his own voice. It was very rusty and quiet, that's for sure. If he weren't in a quiet limousine he probably would have been asked to repeat it. Aside from the light rumbling of the wheels running over the concrete, there was nothing to hide Katima's words.
"And do you have a name?" Dominic continued, his eyes refusing to leave his new accompaniment.
"Katima."
"Nice name. Does it mean something?"
Katima shrugged. Being locked up for seven years did not give much time to learn the ins and outs of any language, english or draconic. Beyond the vocabulary he had prior to his capture, he had only truly picked up words that the workers passing by his cell were using.
"Well, I can look it up online when we get home." Dominic said, chuckling lightly.
The use of "We" caught Katima off guard, the idea of being included in a discussion as a participant and not an object was completely foreign to him. What were Dominic's intentions with him? Why was he being so polite? Katima did not lower his guard, he knew that he very well might be being led into a trap.
The air of the limousine felt heavy, like every molecule didn't want Katima to be there. Katima's situation made him unable to help bear the burden of keeping their conversation going, an issue that Dominic, as shown by his awkward facial expressions, was clearly aware of.
"You could probably use some vocabulary classes." Dominic said, half jokingly.
"Probably." Katima mumbled, looking at the floor.
"I can make that work." Dominic said before pausing again. He leaned back and opened his mouth again as if he was going to say something else, but nothing came out of him. It was obvious that he was a little bored at how unengaging Katima's responses were.
"I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you're thinking." he mentioned.
Katima kept his eyes on the floor, not sure whether or not he wanted to respond. He figured that Dominic was probably telling the truth, what would he possibly have to gain by lying? Katima thought about this for a few minutes until the limousine smoothly came to a stop. Katima looked out of the window to see where they had arrived, and was speechless as he was met with a large white mansion surrounded by a perfectly trimmed hedge garden. During the drive, the sun had finally come out allowing Katima to enjoy the colors. The dragon-born was so awestruck that he forgot all his worries and just admired silently, not noticing that Dominic had already gotten out of the limousine.
"Are you coming?" Dominc asked, smirking.
Katima snapped back to reality as Dominic opened the door for him. "How did you..." Katima muttered, trailing off as he exited the car and followed Dominic toward the entrance.
Dominic stopped walking. "I'll answer questions like that later, we have more important things to discuss now."
Dominic turned around to look at Katima, clearly enjoying how much of an effect the surroundings were having on him. "So I actually have a question for you... How do you feel about your place in the world?"