Silence. The silence that enveloped Altan was crushing, powerful. The soft pounding of his heart seemed to be an insult to its presence. Complimenting the silence was a void of endless dark, encompassing everything as Altan stood in a pit of shadow. He reached blindly, and his hands found purchase on nothing but empty space. He walked but had no sense of direction or any idea he was actually moving. He tried to call out, but the silence outweighed his voice, cutting it off before he could utter a word. Was this the afterlife? Endless hills of nothingness? A foreboding atmosphere sent a chill down his spine and he sat, unnerved as the darkness seemed to watch him.
        The last thing he remembered was the slender fingers of death squishing the life out of his lungs as icy cold water flooded his systems, crying out as he desperately tried to claw against the current. Falling. Beyond that his memories were fuzzy, like a poorly rendered picture. They seemed familiar yet he was just beyond the cusp of understanding, and they presented themselves more as feelings than events. Over and over these detached memories turned in his head, and he mulled them over nearly obsessively, convinced if he could just clear up even a single one maybe he'd figure out what this place was. And so he did. Time, though a foreign concept in this odd dark world, crawled by like dripping tar. He was waiting, and although he didn't know exactly for what, he figured something would have to happen eventually. It's not like he'd be trapped in this shadowy ocean forever, right?
A sudden overwhelming and impeding presence flooded his instincts and he spun, shock racing though his veins as two massive lilac eyes stared at him. Slitted pupils the size of long swords remained unmoving as they pierced into his soul, seeming to look inside of him. A soft purple aura glowed around them, chasing away the darkness, much like Griffins. Glowing eyes seemed to be a common occurrence here, he noted, wherever here was. The giant lilac eyes studied him for several long minutes,  judging him, watching him, and it was all Altan could do to stare right back, unsure of what to do. An idea struck him and as stupid as it seemed, he thought perhaps if he respected the silence and tried to call out with his mind instead, he'd get somewhere.
       Who are you?
       The reaction he pulled was an ear splitting roar that shattered the oppressing silence, carrying strangely angelic yet metallic undertones. A flash of light exploded in that instance, chasing away the darkness and filling the empty space with a brilliant white. Radiating from the creature came beams of glimmering rainbows, shards of colour danced amongst the light, shifting and sparkling as the giant creature reared. The light reflected, no, emanated from the opalescent scales that covered a long thick neck, massive body and limbs, and a long twisting tail. Massive teeth, spikes, claws, and horns jutted from the creature, and layered plates of armoured scales ran along its underside from jaw to tail. Translucent white membrane stretched between huge splayed wings, which flapped tremendously, causing the light to shine like prisms through the thin membrane. The dragon landed back on all fours, giant head swinging around and eyes training once again onto Altan. A female voice invaded his mind, authoritative and commanding.
       Wake up.
       Wake up.
        "...tan."
        "Altan. WAKE UP."
The prismatic field of white parted as Altan blinked his eyes groggily, drawing a sudden deep breath through his nose. As a blurry figure overtook his view, a chilling cold and several areas of dull pain became apparent across his body. A wall of nausea suddenly slammed into him and he jerked to the side, puking up a mixture of digested food and clear liquid that was much too watery to be healthy. Grey morning light filled the sky, and a familiar mist clung to everything in perfect little droplets of water, hailing from the burbling river a ways off. He discovered the scent of burning wood surrounding him was from the dying flames of a fire, sitting just to his right, while a small stone cliff rose to his left. Blearily he turned his attention to Griffin, who kneeled by his side, glancing disdainfully at his hurl.
       "Nngh.. what... what happened?"
       "You neglected to inform me you were incapable of swimming, is what happened," Griffin muttered, "I nearly drowned myself having to drag you out of there."
        Altan flushed, frowning at him. "I can swim just fine! I just wasn't really expecting to be flung into rapids and over a waterfall! And what was that anyway? How did you do that when you weren't even close to me?"
        Griffin rolled his eyes, getting right up in Altans face. "You really are an idiot. Do you require me to spell it out for you? Magic." He said, jazz hands rubbing salt in the wound.
         "How am I supposed to know anything when every time I ask you brush me off?!" Altan retorted, frustration evident in his voice as it cracked. "Tell me!"
      "That! That is why."
       "WHAT IS WHY?!"
       "Just- put these on!" He growled, furiously digging trough a sopping wet cloth bag and shunting a set of waterlogged and yet somehow scratchy clothing at Altan's chest. "You stand out too much."
       Altan's lip curled and he threw them back with as much force as he could muster. "AS IF!"
Griffin shifted tactics to ignoring him and instead turned away to prod at the fire with a stick, stirring the embers. Altans nausea faded away, his patience waning, and he abruptly stood. He started towards Griffin, who stiffened and glared at him over his shoulder. His eyes glittered dangerously but when Altan didn't stop, he turned fully.
        Griffin gritted his teeth, waving his hand toward Atltan. "Stabit."
As soon as the word left his mouth, it was as though Altans legs turned to stone, along with his arms, torso, and every other part of his body. He tried to yell but his lips remained pulled into a menacing sneer. His eyes began to sting as even his eyelids were frozen in place. Lava bubbled hot through Altans veins as Griffin stood there, smirking. He'd just stopped Altan dead in his tracks.... so... so effortlessly. No. It'll take more than some lame trick to stop me. Gathering his willpower he erupted, storming forward, relishing in the bewildered look that struck Griffins face. His eyes blew wide, unable to suppress his blatant shock.
"How-! Stupid hum-"
A whiff of air blew back Griffins hair as he narrowly avoided Altans fist. He stumbled back, awestruck, and Altan capitalized on the opportunity. Intending to throw him to the ground, Altan lunged, reaching for the back of Griffins neck and his upper arm. And then something miraculous happened. Well, as miraculous as you can get considering recent events.
       It started as a gentle tendril of warmth, snaking fourth the moment Altans hands made contact with Griffin. It reminded Altan of the sensation he felt before he was teleported into this forsaken place and he made to jump back, steeling himself for another unpleasant experience. There was a flash of glittery light, the image of glinting purple eyes. And then the floodgates opened between them, waves of images, feelings, memories, all colliding and spinning and mingling in an indistinguishable cascade of thought.
Altan saw his father, black hair disheveled, a belt in hand, half empty bottle of alcohol in the other. His wild eyes pinned a frightened and crying boy to a corner. It was him. No, it was Griffin? Belt became sword and he cowered, hidden from a man with icy blue eyes that held more darkness than any black eyes he'd seen before. A man and woman with torn and bloodied clothes, warm brown eyes ushering a boy to safety. Magic. Blood. Flames. An inferno of hurt and rage blazing in his gut, yet grim hope surfacing alongside a pale feminine hand, extended palm up. Guilt. Dozens of people who shrank under Altans presence. Dozens more who idolized him. Lonely lunches without friends, at least not real ones. Instead they were shadows, which expanded and morphed into ghastly illusions of great evil beasts, emanating from a massive black winged creature with piercing red eyes. The visions swirled, mixed in a chaotic dance that transcended full understanding. They were not entirely his, nor entirely not his. A life on the run. A life surrounded by fakes. Two lives filled with underlying hurt and isolation. Strangers in every way different yet in many ways the same.
Griffin was the one to break the connection, reeling back and crashing against the stony rise behind him. Altan tumbled to the ground like the walls of his mind, the ones meant to keep him safe. Now, they crumbled and he shrank away from Griffin, exposed and uncomfortable. He made to lash out much like a cornered animal, but nothing came out. His mind raced- what else would Griffin had seen had that continued? What other secrets, other memories that made him who he is, would have been revealed? The thought made his stomach churn. All his life he'd kept others at bay, on the outskirts of his care. It was a defence mechanism; protection from inevitable disappointment and betrayal. And now a... a stranger, one he had no kind feelings towards, understood him on a level he barely understood himself. He frowned. 'Stranger' felt wrong after that.
The colour draining from Griffins face told him he wasn't alone in that feeling. Apparently he wasn't the only one with secrets he'd rather keep under wraps. Despite his shell shock, a lick of curiosity arose in him.
A long, heavy, deafening silence hung between them. It reminded Altan of his dream and a chill danced across his spine, so he quickly tried to think of something, anything else. The scrawny weed growing by his foot suddenly became incredibly interesting. Griffin blinked. Blinked again. Sighing heavily, he seemed to reach a conclusion, and Altan watched him like a hawk as he slid to the ground. Griffin sighed again. He rubbed his eyes. He ran his fingers agitatedly through his hair. After a few moments, slowly, Griffin spoke.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
He barked a dark laugh, "Not a chance."