I just randomly thought of this when looking at all of the parodies. Don't worry, this will probably die alone in my imagination before you have to suffer through the whole thing. Then again, maybe not. I might like this. Review and make my decision easier! – Rime
The Dragonet Prophecy
When the war has lasted twenty years
The dragonet will come.
When the land is soaked in blood and tears
The dragonet will come.
An egg the color night from far away
On the brightest night to break.
Only night can bring 'round the day.
The grounds of fate shall shake.
When rival queens have had their fun,
The time has come for war to be done.
On wings of night, peace is won.
The dragonet is coming…
Warkiller always knew he was born to save the world, but then again, that much was obvious. When your entire birth and life is prophesized, there are only so many options for your life. Warkiller was determined not to fail.
He was sure he wouldn't. It was hard to believe anything else if you've been told all your life that you wouldn't. Sure, everyone hated him, but at least he had the whole saving-the-world thing going for him.
Allow me, the narrator, to elaborate. Warkiller had no social skills whatsoever. Everyone was below him, at least in his mind. Arrogance would be his downfall, others thought, but at least they had some hope of peace. It didn't matter whether they liked him or not.
Some might argue that he had every right to be arrogant. He had the brains, the muscle, the charisma. Okay, maybe not the charisma. Brains and muscle, sure. He won in every training exercise.
It was in one such training exercise that he realized his fault.
Warkiller lunged forward, seizing the weak spot on Flame's tail. Flame howled in pain and rage and spun around, making the fire-is-coming noise. "Not fair," he spat. "I wasn't ready."
"Yes you were," Warkiller protested. "You simply weren't prepared. I was simply pretending to be defeated, don't you see?"
"No, I don't see. When you're defeated, you're defeated. What you just did was against the rules."
"There are no such rules during battles in reality," Warkiller pointed out. Smoke curled around Flame's horns. The angry SkyWing drew himself up to full height.
"Three moons. You sure you're destined to save the world? You're just a little brat to me." Flame took a threatening step closer. Warkiller sat down, curled his tail around himself, and looked thoroughly uninterested. Why should he care about Flame's opinions? Nearly everyone else loved him. And besides, if a fight broke out, Morrowseer would put a stop to it. Or so Warkiller thought.
Warkiller was wrong. Unexpectedly, Warkiller felt talons fasten around his throat. "I'm talking to you," Flame snarled, now close to Warkiller's face. "Did you ever know that your personality insults me?"
"I had a guess," Warkiller gasped. "Now would you do me a favor and let go? This is highly uncomfortable."
"That's the idea," Flame snarled, tightening his grip on Warkiller's neck.
"You wouldn't kill me. I'm the Wings of Night, recall?"
"Unfortunately, I do," Flame hissed. There was a gasp from the crowd. Warkiller guessed that would be Fatespeaker, but since the crowd was mostly behind him, he couldn't tell. "That would be why you're still alive."
"So, planning on letting me go any time soon?" Warkiller asked.
"No, I think I'm going to hold you like this for a while, and throw you off the cliff."
"Morrow seer wouldn't let you do that," Warkiller protested.
"He wouldn't?" came a gruff voice from behind him. Slowly, Morrowseer stepped into view. "I'm aware that you always win the training sessions, but as you just so helpfully pointed out, real life battles have no rules. Fend for yourself this time."
Warkiller gulped and did not enjoy the sensation of his throat knocking against Flame's talons. "You can't throw me off. It'll kill me. I won't have time to unfurl my wings."
"Three moons I hate it when you use words like 'unfurl'. And no, it won't kill you. I threw Ochre off last week. He lived," Flame said.
"Ochre narrowly missed the rocks and can hold his breath for an hour. That's different. I'll either get impaled or drown," Warkiller explained, really not reassuring himself by planning ahead while he was talking. If he were prepared he just might be able to spread his wings fast enough…
"I'll try and aim you for the water. Nautilus will save you." Flame began hauling him off towards the very edge of rock they had just been thinking about. Warkiller scrabbled his talons ineffectively against Flame's for a moment before realizing it was time to use (duh duh duh) social skills.
"If you let me go I'll make sure you get the best cow tomorrow," Warkiller said.
"Not interested."
"I'll tell Viper you're amazing."
"I can convince her myself."
"I'll make sure Squid leaves you alone."
"He already does that since last week when I almost killed him."
"I'll get Nautilus off your back."
"Things are more fun this way." They were at the edge of the cliff now, looking down into the water. Okay, so maybe this wasn't the time for social skills. Quickly, Warkiller devised another plan. It would hurt a bit and his neck might be scarred for a while, but that wasn't too bad. At least he would live.
Warkiller threw all his weight forward at the last minute. As predicted, Flame's talons dug into his neck briefly, but then relaxed and released. Not even Flame would kill the Wings of Night. Warkiller spun around to face the attack he was sure Flame would launch but it never game. The edge of the cliff crumbled and Flame was gone.