Hey everyone, MasterFrench here, and I wish to welcome you to a fanfic based off of the WoF series. As a disclaimer, I do not own this series, that goes to Tui T. Sutherland, and she owns the entire WoF. This fanfic is about a lost tribe of "dragons" that look similar to a Japanese or Chinese depiction of a Dragon. If you get curious or confused then look them up. But anyway, here it is!

Chapter I

It was really, REALLY cold. And he was hungry. Then he realized that the room was not lit up. What could turn off the power? A solar flare possibly? Who knows. All he realized was that he was going to die if he didn't get out fast. He checked all his belongings but found that he couldn't even think straight for more than ten seconds. He must have hibernation sickness. He didn't know how long he had been asleep for but it must have been a while. He needed to get to the medical bay.

He waited for the door to open. Nothing. Of course the doors don't work, the power was out. He pried the door open with his claws. Not a soul was in the hallway. It was dark and silent. His Heartstone flickered and light poured from it. He shrieked from the blast of light that came out while clawing at his eyes. When he got used to the blinding light he stumbled further down the hall.

He managed to fall face first right at the place he was looking for. Again the doors wouldn't open, so he again pried them apart. He looked for what he needed. An adrenaline shot should right him to his former self. He looked in cabinets and on shelves but they were almost all empty. Of course there would be a bottle of something but he couldn't tell what they were. After searching he had ten bottles of different medicines all in a perfect line on the table. One of them might heal him but maybe none of them did. He knew it wasn't a powder so three choices were wrong. He thought it was clear so another five were out of the question. Two bottles sat in front of him.

He tried reading a while ago but he was affected so badly he couldn't read. He grabbed the bottle on the left took a syringe and... put it down. He needed to be careful. No quick decisions. He needed to think clearly. He picked up the bottle on the right. The syringe was hard to stick in but he managed it and pulled out about halfway. Was that enough? Was it too much? He stuck it in his left arm and roared. It worked well jarring his mind out of the fog that shrouded his mind. He felt alive.

He needed sustenance if he was to live. So he looked for the armory. The rations that the king gives to the army lasted forever. They have a shelf life of about twenty thousand years so that should do. He walked the familiar path there. And he was relieved to find that some words came back to him.

What happened here? He thought. What could cause the royal family to just up and leave? Maybe they left a hollow? He stopped and tried to activate his wristband but like everything in this stupid place, it was out of power. He continued to the armory and was surprised to find the doors open. In fact, one door had been ripped off and lay several feet away. He hoped whatever had done that was far away from here. He was astonished to find little signs of a fight. Almost all the weapons were still in their place. Scorch marks littered the walls. Only a dragon could do that.

He brandished his Ebony staff. The bone white tip seemed to gleam as if it was happy to be used again. Nothing. He was alarmed by nothing. He had the distinct feeling that this place was a graveyard for many of his kin. He also had the urge to hunt this dragon down and make it pay. But, he needed to live past this place first. And to do that, he needed food.

He wasn't surprised to see the rations untouched because they taste horrible. But, hey, food is food. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he was there with maybe years and years worth of food for a single person. He forgot about the taste as he unwrapped one labeled "Freeze Dried Mangoes" and popped a few into his mouth. Another named "Vacuum Sealed Salted Cow" joined his platter. They were the worst tasting things he had had but at the same time it was delicious. He stuffed as many as possible into his satchel. With luck it would last him three months.

On the way out he stopped to grab a knife from the wall and buckled it to his satchel. The cold was starting to get to him. He headed for the main entrance. The doors had been frozen shut and ice creeped out from under the doors. He knew it was a waste to even try opening the door. He tried the side entrances one by one he realized that the doors were useless. Until one door did open to a cave made of ice. It had been carved in the ice by someone trying to get out. He knew this because the tunnel sharply sloped upward and it had stairs carved into it.

He climbed for nearly half an hour and came to the end of the tunnel and a body. It was slumped over and nearly fully blue. There was almost not enough room for both of them side by side in the tunnel but he knew he would throw up if he touched her. She clutched a small painting of a family in her claws. One of the members was undoubtedly her. She was younger in the picture. Maybe 500 to 700 turns old. He was angry. Very much so. She wasn't young but she certainly wasn't old. She didn't have to die like that. She could have lived so much longer and been loved at the same time. He took his staff and chipped at the ice. He wouldn't die like that and she needed to see a proper grave. Not this ice tomb. He will survive.

I hope you liked the story because it's not going anywhere anytime soon. Chapter two will be added soon. Within about a few hours of this chapter because I need to do revisions and other boring crap. The last thing I wish to mention is that I will take into account suggestions for the future of this story and other possible stories. Wether it would be ships, rap battles, character pasts/futures, etc. Well, it's been fun but I must go now... my people need me. This is MasterFrench signing off!