The Last Of Your Kind

     He was holding himself, arms wrapped tightly around his emaciated frame, almost like he was holding himself together, despite the fact not even a truckload of super glue would be enough for a job like that. Eyes closed, lids a sickly purple against his pale, gaunt face, and his lips were moving silently, forming words that couldn't be heard. A prayer maybe? (He was religious where I was indifferent). The boots were scuffed, so dirt caked they had no hope to ever shine, his jeans the same level of unruly. Even his white t-shirt was grimy, and now it hung off of him like a rag - not enough bones, muscle, and flesh to fill it out.
      It was one of those things; an inevitable breakdown that had to happen at one point or another. We were in an abandoned parking garage, nestled within the "bad part of town" our parents constantly warned us about as children. The concrete underneath us was covered in a fine layer of dust and dirt, with weeds sprouting up like infectious wounds in the cracked cuts of the concrete. There weren't even birds making a home in the rafters. Just us and the weeds.
     "It's okay." A hopeful venture on my part, because maybe he'd believe me. The two of us could go home, forget about it all, and be happy.
     "How?" Or maybe not. "Explain to me how any part of this could possibly be okay." His voice was bitter, my carefree friend had now vanished, replaced by a gray-faced, withered shell of a person.
     "Well... Just because you found out this unbelievable truth of what you thought was a myth is now part of your life... I mean, it doesn't have to be bad...does it?" Even to myself, I sounded like an idiot. I was talking too quickly, in a falsetto of my normal voice, and I couldn't stop. It was like word vomit. I so desperately wanted things to be okay that I had to ensure it myself.
     "Are you kidding me?" He laughed, a single scoff. There was no amusement behind it. The laugh of someone who has no other option when responding except to cry, and refuses to do so.
     "You're the last of your kind. Whatever. Big deal!"
     "You honestly believe it doesn't matter that much?
     "Honestly?"
     "Yeah."
     "No. I think it matters a whole lot."
     "Yeah... That's what I thought." His grip tightened around his torso, and he hunched over, still trying to hold himself together. Normally, I would've gone over, touched his back gently to try and soothe him. Things were different now. I was fairly certain he hated me, though I hadn't done anything. But I was the catalyst of a truth neither of us wanted.
     "So, dragons." It was the only diversion I could legitimately hit, considering we had just now learned of their existence. As in real-real, not just a silly bedtime monster.
     "Oh, please no. I don't want to talk about this Luce - I just want to rewind time. I want to never have uncovered this truth, or even, never agreed to help you."
     "You mean that?"
     "Yeah. I don't know. Maybe."
      I rocked back and forth on my heels, a slow and steady rhythm. It was the only way to keep grounded. One of us had to be strong, so I couldn't be like Nikolai right now. He was allowed his breakdown, but I had to stay level-headed. I could hear the city waking slowly around us. We had been so insulated in this abandoned place, but there was still life around us. Babies screaming, mothers shouting, fathers calling out goodbyes, children shrieking with excitement... Nikolai stayed hunkered down, his frame shuddering slightly.
      "Is it the power? The...you know... Ugh! You know! Is that why you're all...messed up, body wise?"
     Nikolai snorted, the faint echo of a smile ghosting his lips for a mere moment. "How would I know? I only found out, like, four hours ago. Same as you." In that short span of time, his body mass had dropped considerably, as if the transfer of power he now held was draining him as it adjusted to its new master.
     "Wanna talk about it?"
     "Jesus, Luce! You can't be quiet for a fucking second, can you!" He exploded. I took an involuntary step back, my eyes widening not of my own volition. I had been expecting an outburst of some kind of another, but it hadn't ever come. I'd let my guard down, a clear mistake. He sighed and straightened up, unraveling his arms from around himself. He scrubbed his face and rubbed at his eyes, finally locking the vivid green peepers on me. They had once been chocolate brown. "I'm sorry."
     "It's fine." My voice escaped as a hoarse whisper, and I cursed internally at the fragility of my own body. Mortality was such an annoyance when exposed to the truth of things. How things had once been, how they were now. That your best friend was descended from a long line of immortals, but the spirit had been severed within the original vessel, causing both pieces to be displaced until they could reunite, stay contained, but only just.
     "I'm the last of my kind, Lucy."
     The revelation passed his chapped lips, and I was surprised to hear him say it - there was such finality in it. Still, it seemed to surprise him even more. A shudder wracked his body, but once he straightened, it was apparent he had adjusted to the power. Already, color was in his cheeks again.
     "You mean, the last dragon lord."
     "Yeah... But what does that even mean? There's no manual! I only got to be with - meet! - my father six hours ago. He never told me anything, never explained anything. And now he's dead..."
     "That's the reason you have your power though, right?"
     "I don't want this power! I never asked for it! I don't want to be... The last of something." His voice started out so violently, but quickly became a soft noise of desolation. Nikolai stared at me, a stare that left his face naked and vulnerable. I could see the fear in his eyes, the dark depression lurking in his features.
     "We better get back. I don't have anymore sick days, and I don't think you do either. If we get fired, we lose the apartment."
     It took him a moment, but he nodded at me, and I turned, leading us out of our bleak refuge, and back into the squirming masses of humanity.