First things first: thank you for checking out my fanfiction! This is the first one I've published, so I really hope you will enjoy it!

This part is IMPORTANT. Please read the italics so that there are no misunderstandings:

This story will be occurring on an isolated island, separated from Pyrrhia. This means that there will be a cultural difference, different blood lines, hybrids, but no new species of dragons. This being said, let me define a few terms you will see throughout my writing.

There are two clans or groups on the island: Mountain Tribe and Light Tribe. Notice that the word 'tribe' was used to describe these groups. These 'tribes' are made up of multiple species of dragons, united under a simple name. I will be referring to actual tribes or species of dragons as 'breeds' or 'species.' There are no MountainWings or LightWings. Also, depending on leadership, a king or queen will be in charge of leading a tribe, not only a queen.

This story will constantly test Wings of Fire's animus power logic. I base this story off of a series of role-plays, so the overpowered-ness of characters is not always in my control. That being said, I will be creating balance or weaken a character if those two attributes were not present in the role-play. I will put a disclaimer in the chapter if twisting WoF logic is unavoidable.

This will be closer to a series of one-shots, two-shots, etc. focused around characters on the island. Occasionally, a solid plot will emerge.

Before you begin, I would like to clear up a few things about my writing style. Feel free to skip this part.

I'm a vague writer. When I read, I enjoy mystery novels that allow the reader to figure things out before the answer is revealed. That being said, this does not justify that I'm basing this off a world that you all do not have complete knowledge of, and I do. I'm aware I will need to elaborate, as well as write in a more active voice.

There is no political allegory, so please do not look for one. I will explain and express a character's thoughts and opinions, but this is only for you to understand the character's morals and thought process.

Some imagery on characters will be avoided, and it kills me on the inside. This fanfiction is based off a series of role-plays, so I do not own some of these characters. That being said, I do not always receive elaboration on a character's physical appearance, so I apologize in advance.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wings of Fire. I also do not own some of the characters that will frequent this story.

Thoughts, emphasis, and sound expressed in italics.

Prologue

Panic.

Don't stop! Go! Please! Run!

The formidable adversary of rational thought.

FasterFasterFaster- Move, move, move!

An incredibly dangerous mindset to fall into within the grasp of peril.

Please! Run, run, run!

But it is a mistake to deny that this mindset exists. To dilute this fear, to fall into the temptation of relaxing-

Run, run! Freedom! Freedom!

is just as dangerous.

The wind danced upon her wings, the embrace holding a warmth that the ground failed to provide. Within moments the graceful ballet morphed into a discord. The cacophony of her startled screams with the bellowing of the wind provided a suitable tune for the performance. With a pirouette and a bow, the wind left her to regain her balance, moments before contact with the mocking trees below. Their leaves clapped, and the birds requested encores from their small, sheltered nests. The SkyWing let out a huff, unamused, scolding the wind for its betrayal.

The sun looked down upon her, and she spent a moment gliding through the air, the warmth caressing her tattered wings. She soon broke away from the trance, the previous betrayals of nature fresh from her mind as she thought about how something so high could only be conceited. When she was a dragonet, she dreamt of reaching the sun, hoping that it would accept her and provide to her in ways her caretakers were unable. As she grew and the sun left her to fend against the darkness of night, she came to believe it was vain and selfish to leave a dragon of the sky to fend for itself. Even as naivety left her and her bones grew strong with age, its lack of life did not justify its decision. The sun had betrayed her, just as the wind had.

She sighed, her eyes observing the grass below her. She had reached the end of the marshlands. Occasionally, a piece of ground would appear through the thick shrubs.

Dragon dens.

Dragons are typically evil, vile creatures in her mind. But just like anything considered to be evil, the opposite must exist.

"I'm back!" The dragoness roared, her voice silencing any of the remaining applause from the trees. Beside her was a mound of rubble, the only distinguishing characteristic from the rest of the landscape was the small, brown heads appearing from a hole delicately carved into its surface. The three dragonets looked among themselves before squealing and rushing up to the female. They playfully shoved each other, their eyes holding a hope for potential gifts and tales. The dragoness chuckled, holding out three, carefully cut sapphires. The greedy young dragons flashed her innocent smiles before taking the gems and receding back to the darkness of their den. She chuckled once more, listening to the whines of the dragonets as they fought each other for more treasure.

"Pardon them," an old, raspy voice sounds from behind her. The SkyWing turns, a soft smile set upon her features. The MudWing responded with a roll of her eyes accompanied by an exasperated sigh.

"They grow up quickly," the SkyWing comments idly, the noise within the den silencing. The MudWing let out a hum of acknowledgment as she held out a few coins to the SkyWing dragoness. The SkyWing quickly refused the offer, and the MudWing did not hesitate to hide the coins away from the eyes of potential thieves. The silence was long. Much too long to be considered comfortable by the wary MudWing, and her gaze soon clouded with suspicion. The SkyWing sighed, unable to fill the silence and appease their suspicion. The silence continued, words remaining unspoken between the two, but communication was otherwise evident in the way their gazes met.

"Which tribe?" Began the MudWing.

"Light Tribe." A simple response from the red dragoness.

"Both tribes are bad." Came the expected response.

"I know." Came expected the reply. "Then why ask which?"

"Your will for adventure will get you killed," the MudWing sighed. "They leave the area between their two territories alone. That's plenty of room for a growing dragoness such as yourself. There is no need for you to travel to Light Tribe." The SkyWing gave them an exasperated look in response. Her heart was set, and the MudWing knew. Their conversation had ceased, their gazes drifted apart.

"Go, then. I cannot tell you what to do. I'm neither your mother nor caretaker." The SkyWing was hurt by the MudWings dismissal of importance in her life, but the feeling was quickly shadowed by the excitement of adventure. Without a word, the SkyWing took to the air, her only fear being that the approval would be revoked before she could fly out of range.

She held no fear of the tribes despite the stories shared by the elders. The tribes were described to be savage and unorganized, and even among the hyperboles and metaphors of their diction, the SkyWing knew that there was some truth. She had already been involved in a skirmish between the two tribes, after all. It wasn't that she was directly involved, but in her mind, the fact that she was caught up in a fight without meaning served well in diminishing any potential excitement she had in visiting the tribes at an early age. But now, as she had grown and become familiar with the nature of dragons, she quickly came to accept that the tribes are made of dragons and are therefore imperfect.

Although this imperfection did nothing to appeal to the dragons lacking a tribe, the tribes openly let dragons in and out of their borders. A bit hypocritical, the SkyWing mused to herself, watching the land move beneath her with every stroke of her wings. To fight for territory and then allow dragons to come and go as they please. Destroys the purpose of territory.

However, deep in her mind, she knew this was false. She has been stopped many times by patrols and has been questioned about her motives by cautious tribe members. Instead of taking their mistrust as an insult, she recognized it as a characteristic that verifies the dragons of the tribes are not as barbaric as the elders portrayed them to be. She wondered if the elders of the tribes spooked the dragonets with stories of barbaric dragons that come from outside the tribes. She chuckled to herself as she pondered about this, and came to the realization that the dragonets were probably fed stories that fueled their hatred for opposing tribes, as well.

She landed, the soft grass tickling the scales beneath her claws. She carefully plucked a few blades of grass, green and seemingly perfect. She quickly released them, letting them glide with the wind. She had decided that no matter how hard she looked, she was much too big to unearth every detail about a single blade of grass. A gust blew through the valley, bringing a pleasant coolness to the hot, summer's day. One of the reasons she preferred Light Tribe opposed to the cold, biting wind of Mountain Tribe. She paused for a moment, admiring the simplicity of their names.

She looked ahead towards a large stone overhanging. The stone was decorated with vines, complementing the vitality present in the camp below. Dragonets were frolicking in the shade and the majority of dragons were filling their time with idle chatter. She silently praised the unity of so many species of dragon under the simple name of 'Light Tribe.' As to be expected, an armored guard soon approached. If the large build and flat head did not give away the species of dragon, the tawny scales peaking through the gaps in the armor did.

MudWing.

"Halt." The voice was commanding - powerful. The dragoness lost to the temptation of distraction and began an internal tangent about the common traits of a tribal guard. "What brings you here?"

The line was practiced to sound warm and friendly, but the attempt to hearten the tone lost to the hands of repetition. The SkyWing thought for a moment and the guard started tapping his claws against a stone that was hidden among the grass. Although his body language did not portray what he was thinking, his half-hidden eyes screamed impatience. The SkyWing decided with a simple answer: "Travel."

The MudWing ceased his tapping, the awkward silence becoming more prominent as he attempted to interpret a hidden meaning behind the words. He looked over the dragoness but found she did not even carry a pouch or a bag on her. Without so much as an attempt to engage in friendly conversation, he turned and strode haughtily back to his post. The dragoness blinked, slightly surprised at the lack of further questioning. Confidence, she decided. They're confident that they would be able to stop any problem that would occur from an insignificant dragon, such as myself. She was aware that she was, perhaps, reading too much into a few words and gestures, but as the guard sat there, chin high and gazing proudly over the camp, she decided that her notion was accurate.

She stepped into the shade of the overhanging, following a narrow strip of land up a hill. The hill gave way to a small cliff, leading down to a crystal blue lake below. Once she managed to reach the top of the hill, she watched the water filter from the lake into a river. The river appeared as a vein, persisting between two, small mountains. If it were not for the fact that she knew the river continued into a small waterfall, she would have assumed it leads straight into the ocean, as it blended into the sea that laid directly behind it. She succumbed to a state of bliss, unable to find flaws within the landscape.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small 'thump' and immediate pressure to her side. She looked down at a small SkyWing dragonet, who was currently attempting to reorient itself by shaking its head. After the dragonet emitted a small yelp, the dragoness lifted them back up with a single claw. Although the dragoness' eyes were swarmed by the typical colors of a SkyWing, she focused on a different observation after picking up the dragonet.

Cold.

They stood there in awkward silence before the dragonet puffed out its chest and took in a deep breath. The SkyWing watched in amusement and fascination. She could barely hold back laughter when the dragonet bellowed, or rather squeaked, "Bow to me! I am the Queen of Light Tribe! Queen Carmine!" Another bout of awkward silence followed. The dragoness was about to comment when a worried voice sounded a few meters away.

"Carmine where are y- there you are!" An IceWing dragoness sighed with relief, rushing up to Carmine and protectively curling their tail around them. At least, the SkyWing thought they were an IceWing at first glance. Now she was beginning to doubt the thought, for the longer she stared, the more she realized the uncanny resemblance in their build compared to a NightWing's. The only thing that confused the SkyWing was the white that adorned their scales instead of the usual black. A birth defect? However, one glance at the NightWing's eyes was enough for her to reach a conclusion. Albino.

"I'm so sorry about her!" The NightWing quickly apologized before turning and scolding the dragonet for running off. A few complaints and a successful bribery later, the NightWing returned their attention back to the SkyWing dragoness. "I'm Solar, by the way." The dragoness opened her mouth to give her name, but Solar was distracted once more with the now whining dragonet. Solar gave the SkyWing an apologetic smile. "I would love to chat, but I need to take care of a few things. See you later!" And with that, she grabbed the talon of the dragonet and bounded off to another part of camp.

Taken aback by their suddenness, the dragoness waited a moment to regain her bearing before continuing on her adventure through camp. She took her time to observe the camp and soon noticed that the dragons did not appear to be a unified entity as she once believed. Instead, different groups were scattered around the camp. Typically, a pattern would be prominent among these groups. For instance, a group of dragons were sharing jokes and tales over a patch of dirt. One lifted their claw, and a black imprint remained painted onto the ground. Firescales. Other groups did not share a common characteristic, but their seclusion soon became obvious by the low growls heard whenever dragons would stray too close.

This is not to say that the tribe is completely separated into factions. Plenty of dragons walked around and socialized while others actively invited dragons to join in on conversations.

The dragoness blinked. She thought something had flashed across her vision. Before she had the opportunity to convince herself that she was imagining things, a brightly colored RainWing appeared directly in front of her. She let out a startled yelp, leaping back a bit. Her alarming noise attracted the attention of the dragons around them, their heads turning to watch either out of interest or fear of a potential threat. However, soon after discovering the RainWing, a majority resumed their previous conversations.

The RainWing observed her with subtle interest before looking away. He appeared to be in thought, so it came as a surprise when he opened his mouth and let out a call for, presumably, a friend.

"Spark!" He roared. In response to the call, a SkyWing poked his head around one of the closest huts.

"What is it, Mulberry?" Although primarily neutral, his tone had a tinge of annoyance. He had an amulet firmly clasped around his neck, and his back scales seemed to resemble a dark blue. The rest of his scales were embellished with orange and yellow. Perhaps even red, the dragoness wondered, cursing the light for not permitting her to fully observe the dragon. He walked up to the RainWing, now identified as Mulberry, who had once again changed colors. They either have frequent mood swings or are attempting to hide their actual emotion.

Spark, becoming impatient, turned to the dragoness, just now noticing her presence. He immediately became uncomfortable, which then provoked an awkward silence among them. His flustered expression quickly morphed into one of annoyance as he turned back to Mulberry. "What is it? And who are they?" The last part was accompanied by a quick gesture towards the dragoness.

Instead of the expected response, Mulberry mumbled something quietly under his breath. Spark looked confused for a moment before requesting for Mulberry to repeat his previous statement. His response quickly left the dragoness flustered.

"You two should kiss."

The resounding echo of Spark's tail against Mulberry's face further left the dragoness speechless. Mulberry faded into the ground once more, leaving the two SkyWings alone with the whispers of dialogue around them. Spark was panting, staring at the spot Mulberry once stood with a mixture of hatred and embarrassment. Spark then turned to the female beside him, a look of desperation flashing across his features. The dragoness offered a reassuring smile, which, after a moment of hesitance, was soon returned. Seeing no point in further conversation - or rather an attempt to prevent additional humiliation - Spark turned, leaving the dragoness once again alone among the ranks of her fellow dragons.

The sun was not visible from her position beneath the stone overhanging, but she knew it was there: forever watching and forever mocking her existence. She let out a small sigh. This tribe presented something that was interesting; different from her typical routine. The sheer amount of dragons gathered here gave her a feeling of exhilaration. What accompanied this was more surprising to her: a sense of power. She spared a glance to her left, observing two SandWings and a NightWing converse happily. If she were to leap in and attack one, the chaos that could potentially ensue left her feeling a tinge of adrenaline. This was apparently the wrong thought to dwell on, for the NightWing turned his head, revealing a silver teardrop resting behind his eye. The SandWings glanced at each other, to the dragoness, and then to the NightWing. They all soon took off, leaving a harsh gust in their wake.

Slam!

The dragoness' first thought was that she was being attacked - that the tribal dragons had signaled a guard. She used her wings to balance herself, for the hit propelled her towards the cliff side.

"Oliver! Ye' great oaf! Ye' just hit the lass!"

There was a sudden pressure at her side, helping steady her. As soon as the world stopped spinning, she looked to her left to find a SandWing. Within a few moments, she found herself looking up slightly at his face. Quite a large SandWing. She spent a few moments regaining her composure, separating herself from him. She stepped back, inspecting the dragon who aided her. His scales were a mixture of yellow and tan, black patterns racing down his neck, wings, and back. But what was really bewitching was his eyes.

His eyes seemed to be black at first glance, but upon closer inspection one could soon see they were a dark red. Instead of this intimidating the dragoness, she found herself relaxing, watching playfulness shine through the dull coloring. Another trait she soon noted was that instead of keeping his tail in a safe position, his was constantly lashing around, ready to strike. Again, she related this to the playfulness of his posture and the mischief hidden among his red orbs. His face soon adorned a smirk.

"Like what ye' see?"

The dragoness was left speechless and was immediately filled with a chagrin induced hatred. A small, pale red SkyWing, appeared from behind the SandWing. He was clutching his head, and mumbling soft words to himself. She immediately assumed that this was her assaulter. Oliver.

His coloring was pale, much too pale for an average SkyWing. When he looked up at her, his piercing blue eyes contrasted immensely with his red coloring. He slowly got up, and with a quick shake of his head, gave the dragoness a large, childish smile. He approached them, and she noticed that the SkyWing was small in comparison to the SandWing and herself, who was recognized to be an average sized SkyWing.

"Don't harass her Vasile," he chirped, his voice soft and cheerful. He playfully scolded Vasile, who returned the gesture by flicking out his tongue. Oliver giggled, surprising the dragoness. No matter how hard she tried, she was unable to find anything negative about Oliver's demeanor.

And it scares me.

Vasile proudly wore a few scars among his body, but Oliver's scales were untouched. The dragoness came to the conclusion that he has lived a sheltered life, preserving a childish innocence inside of him. A bit of jealousy coursed through her. Oliver tilted his head, seemingly sensing her distress.

"Is something wrong?" Although his smile faded slightly, it was still there, summarizing his emotions. The dragoness shook her head and gave Oliver a small smile of her own. "Good!" He chirped, his smile fully returning. Vasile sighed and chuckled.

"Since 'e is not gonna apologize, I better do it for 'em. We're sorry for startlin' ye' and almost knockin' ye' off the cliff," Vas said with a sincere tone accompanied by a small dip of his head. The dragoness tilted her head slightly, wondering where his accent was from. She originally assumed that it was just his manner of speaking, but his refined voice made her doubt that. He did not smell as strongly of Light Tribe as Oliver did, so he was probably without a tribe, like herself. As she broke away from her thoughts, her gaze locked with Vasile's, who was patiently waiting for a response.

"Oh! Um, it's fine! Really," said the dragoness hurriedly, earning her a small giggle and chuckle from the two dragons. They soon introduced themselves.

"I'm Vasile. Feel free to call me what ye' like, but if ye' want to shorten me name, call me Vas."

"I am Oliver, but please call me Ollie!"

Suddenly, Oliver pushed past Vasile, almost ramming into the dragoness again. With his cheerful smile - which never once faltered - he chirped: "It has been a pleasure meeting you!"

"Likewise," the female SkyWing stated. She could not help but give the childish dragon a small smile of her own. Oliver beamed happily, stepping away from the dragoness. She was about to give her own name when she was, once again, interrupted.

"Shoot! Olls! We're late! We have to go now! Your brother's goin' to have me head if I show up late again!"

"But-"

Vasile grabbed Oliver - who emitted a small yelp - by the talons and flashed the dragoness a quick smile.

"We can keep conversin' later. Nice meetin ye'!" And with a final apologetic look from Vasile, he dragged Oliver for a short distance before releasing him, both flying to a different part of camp.

The dragoness blinked before giving a soft laugh. Tribal dragons were much more interesting than she had once assumed. She continued to stroll around with a small smile, which served as a summation of her attitude and newfound optimism. She was so distracted, she almost missed an interesting argument. Her nostrils were assaulted by the smell of the western mountains. Mountain Tribe.

"Of course you don't care - it's not your tribe - but innocent dragons are dying, Eren."

"Our tribe has not been targeted."

"Fury, please listen to Eren. I know it's horrible, but this is not within Light Tribe, I do not see how we are supposed t-"

"Shut up, Mist."

"I beg your pardon, Scorch?"

The dragoness quickly turned around, and after a few moments, broke off into a sprint. I was not supposed to hear that. That argument was between very important dragons within their society. King Eren and Queen Mist of Light Tribe were among them. Eren was a powerful NightWing, and she soon found herself regretting not getting a good look at him. Mist, although not in charge of leading the tribe, was a RainWing that led a military force made up of her fellow venomous dragons. The other two dragons present were Queen Scorch and Commander Fury from Mountain Tribe. She did not know much about these two besides for the fact that they were both SkyWings and both had firescales. She was also aware that Fury led an army of SkyWings.

She was so enraptured by her worried thoughts that she ran directly into a SkyWing. Apparently the tribal dragons are rubbing off on me, she internally jested. The SkyWing quickly held out a claw to steady the dragoness. Once she regained her balance, she found herself looking up at the large male. His colors aside, she was soon hit with a strong feeling of familiarity. Didn't Vasile say Oliver had a brother?

"Are you alright?" The SkyWing had a powerful voice and his body language screamed arrogance. However, his gaze was soft, silently looking over the dragoness for potential injuries. The female SkyWing nodded 'yes' and he relaxed a bit in relief.

"Goo-"

"Albion, there is no need to pity a blind dragon."

The second voice was soft and quiet. The dragoness had to strain her ears to even hear the remark. However, once she did, a frown settled upon her features. She looked around Albion to see the owner of the voice: an IceWing. His posture is regal, and his wings are curled elegantly. His gaze is cold and his expression is blank. As he breathes, the air condenses in front of his snout before dissipating in the heat. A thin layer of frost covered the grass around him. Frostscales. His black orbs bore into her own eyes, and to the dragoness it seemed almost as if he was looking directly into her soul. She would have admired him a bit longer, if it was not for his previous remark.

"I'm not blind," the dragoness slowly replied, unable to prevent a small pout from enveloping her expression.

The IceWing looked away, seemingly distracted. Due to his unchanging expression, the dragoness interpreted the action as guilt and congratulated herself on the small victory. Well, that is, before he spoke again.

"Apologies, I assumed that a dragon with sight was capable of avoiding unmoving objects, or rather in this case, unmoving dragons."

The dragoness did not know what annoyed her more: the IceWing's commentary, the fact that he was not even looking at her, or that his voice never escalated past a whisper. Albion gaped at the IceWing.

"Sigurd!"

"Albion, let's continue our conversation elsewhere."

The IceWing, who she now knows as Sigurd, gets up and walks away without as much as waiting for a reply. Albion stood there, stunned for a moment before flashing the SkyWing an apologetic look and following the trail his friend had left.

The SkyWing sighed, staring out at the setting sun. She tilted her head slightly before taking to the sky and flying out of the stone overhanging. She quickly turned, and landed on top of it, gazing out to the ocean. The scenery was as if it were painted from a scroll and she once again sighed, letting herself sit down and relax. She contemplated the previous events of the day, pondering over the dragons she met. She noticed that while she was there, there was not one violent dispute. Does it ever get boring? She returned her attention to the sunset.

The wind was quiet and soothing. The day slowly faded into a deep black, lit by two of the moons present. As she watched the sunset, the colors caressing her scales, she once again succumbed to a state of bliss.

But deep down, when she heard the faint tapping of claws behind her

Freedom! Freedom!

she knew that it was merely an illusion.

Tap, tap, tap.

A small tune was hummed.

Tap, tap, drip.

A tongue left their snout, licking off some of the crimson soaking it.

Tap, ta-

"Is it done?"

A new voice, followed by a brief moment of silence. Instead of a response composed of words, the dragon flicked their claw, blood splashing across the other's face. Although the killer's features were masked by shadows, one could assume they were amused. The new dragon wiped her face with a sigh.

"And my sapphires?"

"Not on her," a voice declared from the bloody snout. Their tone could not be interpreted over the roar of the wind. "Three dragonets took them earlier. A bit of an… extravagant action for a few gems, no?"

"She took them from me and ran off. I'm not a dragon to be trifled with." The bloody dragon scoffed at the pride of their employer. The employer stayed silent for a moment more, before adding, "Get the sapphires back. You don't have to kill the dr-"

There was a sudden flash and the dragon was against the wall, a bloody claw being held to her throat.

"You do your job, I'll do mine," the voice cooed softly in her ear.

The dragon released the female, who savored the air that rushed into their lungs. He turned to watch the sunrise, and laughed silently to himself.

"Nothing is more sad

Freedom! Freedom!

than the death of an illusion."

Final quote is from Arthur Koestler.

Welcome to Wings of Fire: The Forgotten Island.