This a different kind of AN, a bit more relatable and interesting, I hope you understand and enjoy.

YOU = AUDIENCE

You're hand was grasped around the brass door handle. Behind the door you know was something you had hoped for and dreaded for a long time. It was the first time you had heard anything from him, what felt like years even. The door was a rich brown, solid varnished wood, with some ornate dragon carvings scrawled lightly and neatly on the front. Many of the shallow carvings where not visible from a distance, but up close, you were able to take in the quality and beauty of them. The door knob was cold to the touch, but had since started warming up due to your extended pause of grasping it.

You close your eyes, exhaling lightly. What were you doing? What was there to fear? You gently turn your gaze down the hallway you came from, it was not too late to turn around and pretend you never came here. Pretend you never knew he asked for you to come and visit. But your curiosity was too great.

You turn back to the door, distilling yourself with confidence, grasping the door handle and slowly turning it. You hope its good news, but there is a nagging feeling that it's not.

The door swings open, making not a squeak nor creak. You take your first step in to the new room. It was a rustic lounge or study, large but not over the top. It was poorly lit, the only light sources being a roaring fireplace and tall and slender candle on a small round table. The edges of the room were shrouded in a darkness that felt almost artificial, But you could make out basic shapes and the edges of furniture and decorations, silhouettes of artworks on the walls, tables and shelves with various items placed on them. You couldn't make any of them out, but you know they were there. The carpet soft under your shoes and the walls lined with a dark rose red wallpaper.

As you step in you hear the door close behind you, with a quiet click of the bolt. You turn to face it, but the door was gone, replaced with the wallpaper that decorated the rest of the room, the only way in or out was gone, there truly was no turning back now. You face towards the fireplace, if front of it sat a leather arm chair of a deep rich brown. It was surreal, felt as if the room itself was unreal. But the room felt so welcoming and comfortable, and you felt your fear melt away.

But what truly bartered for your attention was the dragon that sat just to the right of the fireplace. His gaze pierced deep into the wispy flames of the fire. He looked different than you last remember, the light blue scales you remember were gone, replaced by a rich red which shifted to a deep vivid blue at the tip of the tail, where a sharp and very deadly looking tailblade sat, reflecting the fire light. His underbelly, horns, claws and spines sharing the same, slightly dulled, but still bright yellow hue. A mane of feathers of bright hues of orange and yellow and of assorted lengths adorned the area where his head met his neck, behind his large horns. His look had changed, but the power he exuded was no different, it was definitely him, no doubt.

You step further into the room, keeping your steps quiet and careful. You make your way around the chair, he still gazed deep into the fire pit, the reflection of the the fire flickering in his bright, glowing yellow eyes. But it wasn't long before his gaze shifted to you, making you tense. His eyes placed a weight on your shoulders, the power they gave off was intense, making you falter in your breath.

But then came his smile, small and shy. But it was so gentle and soft, you felt instantly at ease, his gaze softened, as he regarded you. It has been so long since you had heard from him, or seen him, you were lost for words. How do you even begin a conversation like this?

His mouth opened slightly ajar, and he took a quiet breath in, blinking softly. This was a moment you had been waiting for, for a long time. You felt apprehensive and slightly uneasy. Both hoping to hear these words and dreading them all the same. But then he spoke.

"Hey, it's been a while." His voice was powerful, yet soft and welcoming. "I guess as you know, my name is Attero." There was almost a cheeky undertone. "I thought it due time I explained myself, don't you think?" It was rhetorical, but you wanted to outburst, scream and yell at him for being gone for so long with not even a small update! But there was an overbearing power that had filled the room, and you felt if doing so, it would ruin the moment. So you just listened.

"Where do I even begin." Attero pondered, his gaze turning back to the fireplace, its crackling filling the silence. "Well, I guess at the start. It's been almost two years since I updated Nightwalkers." He smirks, "That chapter where Dawn dies," his eyes snap to you, "That got you good, didn't it." You hear him quietly chuckle. "I stopped writing for a few reasons, the first one being: I wasn't enjoying it anymore." His stare shifts to the floor, his eyes alluding to a hidden sadness. "My passions shifted, and as a creative person, I was seeking more ways, more mediums to propel my ideas, and I felt that writing was not the medium for me, no less fanfiction. I saw fan fiction as a building upon or altering someone else's ideas, they were never truly my own, and that wasn't enough for me." He stopped for a breath, his look moving back to the fireplace.

"So, I started looking for more ways to convey my ideas and imagination. Many will know that I branched out into concept art, or artworks in general. I loved doing artworks, although my skills weren't extravagant or amazing." Attero chuckled, "But even then, I felt I was close, but not my true passion. So I thought animation perhaps, but that was still no. But recently, I think I found my passion in life. The creative medium I have always wanted to express my ideas and vivid imagination through." His gaze once again shifts to you. "3D modeling, CGI work and various different mediums of three dimentional digital creative work. I love it so much, and it makes me so intensely happy!" his face lit up, the look in his eyes shifted to one of joy and passion, but quickly calmed down. "But I digress, I feel you might not care for such things." His passionate eyes filled again with a sadness, as they turned to ground. "I quickly fell out of touch with fan fiction and my stories like Nightwalkers, Pearlescent Skies, Solar Flare, and whatever else I had. But I'm sorry friend, it's just not what I want to do, and I'm not going to risk my happiness and time for something I don't enjoy, or get any satisfaction from."

The room filled with a pregnant silence, you wanted to say something, but you lost your voice, his explanation was short, but you understood. He wasn't happy here, and he had found his happiness somewhere else. Was it wrong to ask him to stay? You wanted to say no, but you know it was. But there also felt like there was more to the story. You wanted to press, but the look on his face expressed that he was working up the courage to talk about it.

Attero stood, his lean figure was almost alien to a conventional dragons, perhaps he was an alien. He moved over to the small, round, wooden table. He picked up a leather bound book, its pages half written. He gently close the cover, the golden printed title on the front glinted in the candle light, which you noticed hadn't melted further than when you entered, which you felt was strange. The title was recognizable, and it was none other than the incomplete book of Nightwalkers. You saw Attero's face contort into a soft smile.

"I had to re-read it myself, god I was such a bad writer." Attero giggled to himself. He looked at you from the corner of his eye. "We had a good run, right?" You nod curtly, noticing other books on the ground, there titles read: 'Pearlescent Skies', "Solar Flare', 'Shades and Tones' and another book, but the tile was covered, so you couldn't make it out.

"I admit," he started speaking again, picking up all the books, and slowly making his way over to a bookshelf, you could have sworn was not lit like the way it was before. "It hasn't been an easy road for me since you last heard from me." His breath faltered when he reached the book case, reaching up to put one of the books away. He paused, taking a deep breath. "At the beginning of this year, I was nearly driven to the point of suicide," He weases out, making you gasp quietly. "I'm way better now, don't worry, but I can't escape the fact that I nearly reached that point. There were…" He stopped to think, as he slid another book back onto the shelf, it tucking away next to another. "...there were many factors that lead up to it: guilt about something personal, the monotony of my life at the time, the sense that I had no goal or purpose, but the leading factor was my job at the time." he slides a third book back onto the shelf. "I won't go into it, it's not a story you need to hear, and not just because I'm not telling stories on here anymore." He smirked to himself, placing a fourth book onto the shelf. "Even now, its not easy. I have quit that job, but now I'm struggling financially, but I have been thinking far more positive. `Finding ways to pull myself out of this hole I've put myself in', if you will."

He holds out the final book, taking a moment to look at it. You recognise it as Nightwalkers. You're filled with sadness as the book is placed on the shelf. You start to realise that this is for real, and that Nightwalkers may never leave that shelf again. The books final resting place was a dusty wooden bookcase in a poorly lit room of a dragon that will never return here again after this day. Attero turns off the lamp that was definitely not there before and saunters back over to you.

"I made many promises to you, that I would never abandon my stories, but things change, and I am truly, and wholeheartedly sorry for that." Attero said, but this time, there was a power behind his voice. "But I must venture onwards towards my goals, and I only wish for you to be happy for me in pursuing these goals. Don't be upset that Nightwalkers is gone, be happy for its time of living. That might be just my philosophy; you should never mourns something or someone's death, but celebrate their life." He spoke with power and grace now. It sounded almost practiced.

Attero faced towards the candle on the table, gentle blowing it out. What you didn't expect was for the candle to start fading into dust and disappearing. Attero's gaze shifts back to you, as the table and the floor starts dusting away as well, finally exposing that the entire room was in fact a facade, everything around you starts fading away. Attero graces you with a soft smile, like the one he greeted you with.

"Hey, I won't won't be gone, I just won't be here. And you will be able to contact me, especially on my Twitter (plug plug Attero_Lx DM me), and heck, I do miss talking to some of you, maybe I'll reach out again, who knows…" he chuckles, "We'll see."

By now the room had completely faded away, vanishing into dust, leaving the two of you in a white room. You look around, but settle your stare on Attero.

"But I guess this is it," he says sombrely. "Oh if you see Einar, let him know I'm really sorry, and I would love to talk to him again." There was a distant immense sadness in his voice, and an untold story in his eyes that accompanied that sentence. But as fast as it came, it was gone.

You notice now that Atteros scales, starting from his tail, start turning completely invisible, one by one, quickly fading out and exposing the empty world behind them, reminding you that he can, in fact, camouflage and turn invisible.

It was only a few seconds before it was up to his neck, the strange visualisation of a floating dragon head. He offers you one last smile and a gentle gaze.

"Have a good one friend, I'll see you round."

And with his signature cheeky wink, he was gone, leaving you in an empty, infinite white void.

You blink.

Suddenly you are back in the hallway outside of the room that would have been Attero's. But now, the door was gone, leaving you to wonder if this hallway was real, and if Attero was the one who fabricated the room. Does he have a secret ability you don't know about? Who knows.

You turn to face the length of the hallway. You are left silent by this strange surreal encounter, and you start trudging down the hallway. A voice in your head echoing:

Goodbye.