"Garnet, wake up!" Cinis whisper shouts when he gets back to the empty bunk room he shared with her since nobody else was brave enough to share it.
"What?" asks a groggy Garnet.
"I found out how to escape."
Garnet's Eyes fly open, "How!"
"Keep it down," whispers Cinis. "Drunk dragons are the best source of Information. It turns out these bracelets can be commanded."
"Are you sure this place hasn't gone to your head?" asks Garnet.
"Watch," Cinis turns to his bracelet. "Otkryt."
Garnet watches in amazement as the bracelet opens, "That wasn't dragon, was it?"
"It was ancient IceWing. It turns out that these bracelets were enchanted to obey commands spoken in that language," explains Cinis.
"How do you speak Ancient IceWing?" asks Garnet.
"I don't. I just remember a few phrases from a scroll my father had," replies Cinis.
"Do you have a plan?"
"I need more information." Cinis thinks for a moment, "How long have you been here?"
"Three years," replies Garnet with little delay, "Why?"
"That's a lot longer than I thought," comments Cinis. "Are there any big gangs here?"
"There are Blister's and Burn's forces and the innocent civilians that refused to leave the conquered lands," provides Garnet.
"Good, good. Where can I find them?"
"What!?" cries Garnet. "Are you mad!? You're a random Skywing! Blister's forces would rather kill you than talk!"
"I'm a random SkyWing with a fragment of an escape plan."
"Well it's late; you should sleep. You can't negotiate while tired."
After the Guards not so gently wake them up, Cinis heads in a different direction from normal hoping to find one of the gangs, preferably Burn's forces. As he is pretending to be doing something, he passes a dead Sandwing, nothing unusual in this hell hole. However, the tiny, sobbing form of a dragonet that is barely six months old catches his eye.
As he is about to go comfort the SandWing dragonet, the towering form of Frost approaches and roughly yanks the dragonet up by the tail before forcing a large pickaxe into his claws, "Get to work," he growls.
The dragonet, without a clue as to what is happening, goes back to the dead sandwing. "Mommy, wake up," he turns to Frost. "Why mommy not wake?"
"Because she couldn't handle the simple task of swinging a pickaxe," explains Frost matter-of-factly, "Now I said get to work or you'll wind up just like her."
Deciding to jump in at this point, Cinis steps between the dragonet and Frost, "How do you expect him to do anything? That pickaxe weighs more than him!"
"If it isn't my favorite punching bag," remarks Frost completely devoid of emotion. "It's not my fault dragonets are so useless. It looks like you're healed enough for another session."
Cinis turns to the Dragonet, "Go find Garnet. She looks like me."
"But mommy?" chirps the dragonet.
"Just go."
As Cinis is bracing for another beating, a MudWing almost as big as Frost comes from somewhere and runs a talon across Frost's chin before speaking in a low sultry voice. "Say Frost. I'll let you ravage my tail end if you leave this poor, poor SkyWing to continue his day."
"You may have Fjord wrapped around your talons, Terracotta," Frost spit the name like it was a maggot found in his seal. "But I was assigned to this stink hole specifically because I couldn't be seduced." Frost smashes his tail across Terracotta's snout, sending her into the nearby wall.
As she lay there stunned, Cinis notices something, "Stop! Beat me instead."
"My favorite plaything asking to be beat? I didn't know it was my hatching day!" calls Frost, genuinely excited. "Now why do you suddenly want to be beat?"
"Can't you see?" Cinis motions to Terracotta who is still catching her breath. "She's pregnant!"
"Undoubtedly Fjord's son. Why should I care?"
"You could kill the egg!" calls Cinis, disgusted at Frosts apathy.
"If I don't kill it, she'll just swing a pickaxe through it as soon as she lays it," Frost lashes his tail at Cinis, hitting him on the side of his head, "Less talk more beat." Frost punctuates his sentence by raking his claws across Cinis chest and leaving deep gouges. After a bat into the wall, Frost places his claws over Cinis' windpipe before pressing down towards the floor.
As Frost is standing there smiling maniacally at the suffocating SkyWing a voice rings from behind him, "Frost, what are you doing here?"
"Oh, uh…hi, Fjord," stammers Frost though he keeps applying pressure.
"You were assigned to inspection duty at the foundries! Not tormenting poor civilians," booms Fjord.
"I saw this dragon slacking off and decided to motivate him."
"I don't care! I could have you arrested for neglecting your duties! Now go!" orders Fjord.
"Sir, yes, sir!" calls Frost, who follows Fjord down the hall just as Cinis was on the verge of blacking out.
As soon as Frost rounds a corner, Cinis wills his oxygen deprived muscles to move as he inspects Terracotta for any internal damage which seems to thoroughly confuse Terracotta.
"Shouldn't you be tending those huge gashes that are spilling blood everywhere?" she asks.
"I don't care. I need to make sure you and the egg are alright," states Cinis in a tone that says: 'Nothing you say or do will change my mind'.
"Why? It's not even your child."
"Because that egg could be the next great peacemaker, a skilled general, or even the greatest mind to have ever existed. He could change the world!"
"Or he could be the next genocidal maniac or a serial killer. He can just as easily be the one to destroy the world."
"Not if he is raised with love and affection, taught to cherish life and his creativity is not only left to grow, but fed and nurtured until it blossoms into a mighty tree!" He finishes his inspection, "You seem to be in good health"
"Now about you, come with me. I'll carry you, so you can use both claws to put pressure on the wound," with no effort, she picks Cinis up and deposits him on her back. After walking for what feels an eternity, Terracotta stops in front of a large steel door, the type used for fortresses, before she reaches into the crevasse at the base of her wing and peels back an armored scale. Under that scale is a heavy iron key that she inserts into the door before pushing it open. Inside is a brightly lit cavern large enough to fit five dragons of similar size to Terracotta. In the cave is a pile of cushions on one side, a desk covered in parchment and art supplies in the corner, and the other two walls are occupied by a large bubbling pool of mud, a babbling brook running along the back wall, and a rather floral scented tub of water big enough for two Terracotta-sized dragons to fit comfortably with plenty of room to spare. After depositing Cinis on the floor, she opens a drawer in the desk and withdraws a roll of leather that contains all the medical supplies needed to treat any injury.
As Terracotta approaches, Cinis can't help but to blurt, "Why are you living in the lap of luxury while we are stuck sharing rooms with twenty other dragons?"
"Hard work and loyalty are rewarded," explains Terracotta while deftly stitching the wound on his chest. "But of course I had the advantage that Fjord thinks I'm the most beautiful dragon in the world, and I'm not afraid to use that to get ahead."
"Really?" Cinis raises an eyebrow, "He doesn't seem the type."
"He has a thing for dragons bigger and stronger than himself, and he has a thing for MudWings. Ancestors know why."
"If my experience with Moroz is anything to go by, he probably loves how taboo it is to mate with a non-IceWing," comments Cinis
"Perhaps," comments Terracotta as she finishes applying the last bandage.
Looking around, Cinis notices a bundle of fur on her desk. Curiosity peaked, Cinis approaches it and sees that it's in its own little corner not a speck of dust nearby.
Noticing his curiosity Terracotta unrolls the bundle revealing a leather bag, "This allows me to commune with my ancestors or even my guardian spirit," she takes a round stone from the bag and places it on one side of the fur. "A rock from the place I felt most at peace," she removes a peace of a stalagmite and places it on the opposite side of the fur, "a stalagmite from my lowest point," she removes a small wooden Dragon and places it in the center, "and a representation of my guardian spirit carved while in a state of absolute calm."
"I never read anything about MudWings having a state religion," comments Cinis, fascinated.
"It's an ancient religion that dates back to before the Scorching. Nowadays, there are only a few adherents," Terracotta gives a distant look.
Cinis looks distraught, "I remember now. It went extinct due to the enslavement of the MudWings by the SkyWings." Cinis lets out a deep sigh, "I'm ashamed to be part of a tribe that would do such things. Your tribe was just trying to stay neutral and mine just decided to sweep in with newly invented iron weapons and treat them like simple muscle with no rights."
"That was many millennia ago," She places a wing over Cinis, "Say…do you want to meet your Spirit guardian?"
Cinis' face lights up, "I'm willing to try anything once."
"Great," chirps Terracotta as she retrieves a bundle of herbs and places them in a clay bowl hanging from the roof before lighting it with a burst of flame. "Now, take deep, even breaths and give me your claws." Cinis complies. "Now, think of the place you were most at peace. Visualize it."
Terracotta's form fades and is replaced with a balcony overlooking a beautiful river valley surrounded by tall mountains. As Cinis is marveling at the view, an IceWing with black scales speckled across glittering white scales, not too dissimilar to a snow leopard, comes through an extravagantly carved door. "Hello," she says with a beautiful though monotone voice.
"H-hello. Where am I?"
"Don't you recognize this place?"
Cinis looks at the Palace around him, "No. I've never left my cave. Are you my Guardian Spirit?"
"Terracotta thinks so. But I am, in fact, within that bracelet you wear," she comments.
"The Gift of control?" asks Cinis before rubbing his bracelet.
"That is what an opportunistic Animus called it when she stole it," replies the IceWing, hints of bitterness sneaking into her monotone voice. "It was never meant to be used to trap prisoners!"
"You seem a little upset," comments Cinis. "Maybe I should go."
"No, it's just that I'm still upset that my bracelet was used for something I despise," answers the IceWing. "You were coming here with Terracotta's guidance, right?"
"Yes," comments Cinis. "How do you know?"
"Which means this is where you feel most at peace," continues the IceWing. "Yet you don't remember it. Do you know any Animi?"
"Yes, my father," answers Cinis.
"He must've erased your memory," comments the IceWing before the scene fades back to Terracotta's cave.
"Put me back," requests Cinis while looking into Terracotta's eyes.
"I just burned the last of my herbs. I'll have to convince Fjord to get more," she digs in a drawer before producing a simple copper ring with a piece of Jade set into it. "If you wear this on your left front index claw, it is a sign to other dragons that you are under my protection. The Jade means you're a listener."
"Listener?" Asks Cinis.
"Being a listener means that if a dragon needs someone to talk to about anything then you will lend an ear."
"I guess I'm in a gang now," mumbles Cinis.
"I like to think of my group not as a gang but as a group of dragons relying on each other to survive."
"You don't even know me. What if I'm the worst dragon for this?" asks Cinis, his voice thick with sarcasm.
"I've been keeping an eye on you since you killed Lamprey," admits Terracotta. "I've never seen Garnet so happy."
"Garnet! I need to find her. I need to see if that dragonet made it to her."
She points to her pile of cushions, "You need rest if you're to heal."
"But Garnet…" starts Cinis before seeing a look on her face that says: 'If you don't rest I'll make you'.
As Cinis curls up on her cushion, Terracotta leaves, locking the door behind her.