Lore
After the Nightwings fled from a shadowy stalker, they became cloaked in the mists of legend and myth. Then they returned.
Fog washed over the window like splattered paint and consumed half of her vision; her snout absorbed another portion of her view, squished against the glass as her eyes swam through the sights. Logs of the nearby forest, bisected and stacked neatly for construction, littered the muddy streets. The earthy browns of soaked soil and gentle grays of scattered gravel only made the lively green swaths of tall grass, scattered in pockets, pop into the foreground. The sky was an unrivaled blue, as they lived near Skywing territory. Possibility was one place in touch with its surroundings, which fit with its diverse culture. River waters lazily drifted through the canals, a desert was mere miles away, icy glaciers were only a short glide into the mountains, the skies were lush with patches of drifting sheep, and the natural muds from the river coated a large portion of the town's land. Truly, it was a home worth admiring.
Another puff of heated breath swept over the glass, blurring the outside world further. One more led to the erection of a firm barrier, and her gaze was painted a faintly translucent white. Her eyes lingered on that wall for a second before she dropped away from her hold on the window, preparing her free talons to wipe the mist from the pane. Faint strokes of the outside world were revealed as her talons made their gentle downward motions, as not to scratch the glass: a burly Mudwing, dripping soil from his shoulders as he shook himself before continuing down the street and a pair of Seawings walking down the same road, laughing and patting each other on the back. The couple's scales even held strange glints of red against the natural blue tones of a pure Seawing and their wings looked as if they were a Skywing's. Such sights were common here, or as common as they could be.
Her eyes flickered side to side before her claws revealed another fragment of existence beyond the blurred window-shaped confine which held her to her home. More figures walked the streets of the town, though something now stood out among the background. A black mass, the size of a dragon, appeared in her vision, though was still partially obscured by the mist. At first, she thought perhaps it was a bug hanging on the other side of the surface, after all, it looked chitinous.
Her talons raised before clenching and falling to meet the glass, causing a low thrum to reverberate through the medium as she watched the black intently. It didn't move, so she repeated her action. It still didn't shift, so she began to smudge more of her breath across the window's surface in rapid horizontal strokes. Soon, her target was revealed, except it wasn't a bug. No, it was the grim reaper.
Its rippling black muscles and calm disposition pulled at the threads of her memory, and she could hear the dramatic tremor in her Ma's voice as she retold the tales of black, decomposing souls who'd act as cruel ferries to the afterlife.
She felt her heart catch, palpitating madly with the constant feeling as if it'd stop at any moment. She raised a claw carefully and pushed it to her chest in worry, before sitting down, allowing for herself to recover.
Another few breaths and she'd stabilized, though her mind still ran through the possibilities. The same threads thrummed like a discordant symphony through her mind, all broken pieces of stories, all showing the horrors of the night.
She opened her mouth and screamed for her Ma, for her protector. She threw her head back and toward the kitchen. A happy fire glowed in a nook along the wall, casting a hearty glow among the small room. Pelts of various animals padded the ground under her talons, and small clumps of pillows made up the makeshift furniture. A head pushed around the doorway, into her view.
A spark of hope ignited in her heart; the fear dancing along her spine in an odd jig of trembles and tingles was quelled. She'd be safe if that large wing was draped over her. There, no black knight could raise a claw against her.
"What is it, Skysong?" The voice was akin to a relaxing melody, having the quality of an alluring Siren's. Skysong could remember with clarity the cackles of the hearth as a soft lullaby sent her sprawling into the land of dreams.
"There's a monster outside!" She hissed, pointing a talon toward the black figure, who was still hovering on the side of the street. Skysong just knew it was up to something, something that'd probably get it scolded by its mother. Do monsters have mommies? Her brow furrowed in confusion.
There were a few clicks of talons against the floor before her ma reached the window, leaning forward and angling herself to see the street without obstruction. A sharp intake of breath followed, and her mother's face scrunched up in perplexity. "A Nightwing…," she murmured before glancing down at Skysong with a conflicted face, though soon she shook her head; it was an expression which Skysong recognized as her mollifying her inner turmoil.
Sighing, her ma cast one last glance outside before walking up to a sheet of pillows, which she laid against. "Sky, come over here. I have a story to tell."
"Oh! I love stories!" she shouted, forgetting herself for a moment, though the mood faded as she envisioned the figure. Skysong mirrored her mother, throwing a worried glance at the window before stalking over to the pillows.
"So, where to begin," her mother hummed, closing her eyes. "Ah, yes." She shifted slightly to allow Skysong to curl up beside her, and she then rested her wing atop her daughter. "There are many tales dealing with such a topic, but perhaps only one that can explain the consequences so clearly.
"Seawings, you know them." Skysong gave a nod of assurance. "Well, a long time ago, the Seawings' entire race faded into obscurity following their disappearance into the oceans, and to their Palace of the Deep. So, without a basis for what the actual dragons were like, myths of their wonder suddenly became tales of their terror. They became the twisted Sirens, luring poor unfortunate souls to their caves to feed upon them."
"Who'd do such a thing!"
Ma paused to smile with humor at Skysong. "The point is that they didn't, but dragons believed them to. Tales evolve as they're told, and without anything to set them straight, they stray in every direction. Over time, the cheery lithe sea dragons who sang with the beauty of sunset shifted into demons of the deep.
"Eventually, the stories became so bad that the dragons were attacked if their heads ever breached the sea's surface, so they were forced into an exile. Here is who our story follows: Lyra."
"Lyra? I haven't heard a name like that before." The fear of the reaper outside had faded in such a familiar and comforting situation, and she felt free to ask questions.
Ma gave a slight laugh and Skysong received a gentle pat on the head, which caused her to squirm slightly. "You haven't, haven't you. I did say that Seawings were regarded as Sirens didn't I? What better instrument for a water-bound angel to play than a lyre, from which 'Lyra' was derived."
"Lyre?"
"An instrument, love." Skysong gave a hum of acknowledgment. "So, Lyra was like many Seawings who wished to know what was above the surface but knew the dangers all too well. That was enough to stomp the desires of most dragons, though Lyra was unhappy, quite so. The Seawing life had tormented her for far too long: always being pushed to find a suitor by the queen and pressured by the nobles to do this and that. You see, Lyra wasn't like many other dragons in the fact she had an animus brother."
"I love animus stories!" Skysong squealed.
Ma nuzzled her shoulder. "You do, don't you?" Another nod. "Her brother, being an animus, had caused their family to be pushed through the ranks since sorcery was beyond valuable. This was before the magic was known to be corrupting, so, Lyra begged her brother to help her any way he could.
"They'd both formed a bond at a young age, and now it was just as strong, so the brother agreed, even if tentatively. He told Lyra that he'd turn her into another race of dragon for a mere week if she agreed to come up with a way to fool the queen about where she was going. If the ruler had found the brother using his magic so frivolously, they'd be in much trouble.
"So, she did exactly that, explaining to the queen that she'd found a potential mate and planned an extended vacation. The queen viewed the opportunity as only one to extend an animus bloodline. Lyra was then free to leave the constraints of the palace, swimming back to her brother and receiving the enchantment, which would activate in five minutes time, allowing Lyra time to surface.
"When she breathed air, a rare moment in her limited life, and felt the enchantment tingle along her scales and morph her body into something different, she jumped into the air and flew toward land. Her flying was awkward, having never done it before, and she eventually began to swim instead.
"In little time, she reached the mainland and stumbled upon a small village, excitedly landing. It was slightly inland and located near a beautiful gorge. This was her first opportunity to ever meet a dragon outside her tribe, and she leaped upon it. Practically dancing into the town, she gaped in wonder at the glamorous Skywings; these stunning shades of red and orange were so rarely seen in the ocean, and never in wake of the glorious sun, illuminating the dragon's scales like shimmering samite.
"Everything wowed her, and she couldn't have loved it more. Lyra made her way to an inn via the directions of a stoic-faced Skywing and pushed open the doors with an intensity matching the sun. After asking where she could stay, she pulled out loose bits of Seawing currency, which the bartender looked at strangely before biting gently into and muttering 'Gold is gold' before directing Lyra to her room.
"With a home secured, Lyra began to look for friends. Many Skywings pushed her away, though many accepted her as one of their own, as she was one now. They played games and laughed alongside her, and Lyra couldn't be happier. Drunk in her own mirth, she continued to come to the same spot every day. Practically adopted into a group of friends, and having more fun than she'd ever had before, Lyra lost track of the days. On the seventh of her stay, Lyra made her way to the same spot to meet her new companions.
"Meeting with her friends, they went on a small walk, laughing along the way. The path they traveled led past the ravine, and it was about the time that they'd reached the landmark when Lyra's disguise fell from her body.
"Her navy scales were revealed to the world without her notice, and as one of her friend's comments piqued her interest, and she made to respond, one of the Skywings screamed. The smallest of the group, who'd been trailing behind them, had been the one to see the unveiled Lyra first, but not the transformation. From his perspective, it looked as if his newfound friend had all but disappeared and an unknown dragon was trailing his other friends.
"His reaction caused all the others to catch sight of Lyra, who looked at their shocked faces with confusion and a dash of concern. 'What's wrong,' she tried to ask but was cut off as one of the dragons hissed 'Where's Lyra?', causing them all to descend into some primal panic.
"Loud threats could be heard all across town about how if the monster didn't return their friend, she'd be hurt. 'Where is she,' they shouted, enraged. Lyra attempted to tell them she was Lyra and that she didn't know what they were talking about, but the comments were both disregarded and intercepted by more threats. The Skywings had advanced on her, and Lyra took rapid steps back, exceeding the bounds of the gorge, and tumbling in. As such an inexperienced flier, Lyra was unable to stop her sprawl, tumbling into sharp canyon walls before hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. She bled out among the rocks.
"The Skywings never stopped feeling just a little guilty, but their story inspired the 'Changelings', and Lyra's poor brother lived out the rest of his day in agony. He never told anyone the role he'd played in her death, and nobody ever found that she was dead, rather the queen had quite angrily surmised she'd eloped."
Ma looked down upon her wide-eyed dragonet, tears forming on both of their eyes. "Do you see why I told you this story?" she asked, to which Skysong shook her head sadly. Ma smiled sweetly. "The dragon outside, the Nightwing," she hinted.
Skysong's brows furrowed for a short moment before her entire body rippled in realization, and she whispered, "Oh."
"You see now?"
"Yes, Mom… I think I do."
Author's Note: Because who doesn't tell stories of friendship, acceptance, love, and the occasional death to their children?
The grammar in this makes me ashamed of myself. Seriously, it's so bad. I didn't edit at all.
Anyways, tell me how you feel… or don't! *cries*