AN: Hi, everyone! This chapter's kind of a short one, but I also have a few announcements that make it look a little bit longer than it actually is:
1. The Albatross fanfiction is now complete! I'll be uploading it directly after I update this story, so it should be right at the top of the story list on my profile. For those of you who are interested, it's called Twisted Mind, Broken Soul.
2. I'm going to be opening a poll on my profile! You guys can decide who my next short story will be about. I need some material to work with, (so it can't be literally any character, unfortunately) but I do have a few in mind that I want to write about sooner or later, so you can pick which one I do next! If you're a fan of my short stories, be sure to check out the choices and let me know which one you want.
If you're not a fan of my short stories, or you just want to get on with this story already, here you go:
Cornice tried so hard not to think about the Ice Kingdom.
He deliberately turned his thoughts away from the memories of fresh snowfalls and the scent of the crisp night air. He hastily shoved any trace of his family from his mind whenever he caught himself thinking about them.
But forcing the memories to the back of his mind during the day didn't keep them at bay while he was sleeping. He was used to the piercing chill of the Ice Kingdom; it was too hot here for him to sink into deep, dreamless slumber. Memories surfaced in his mind in bits and pieces while he stirred in light, restless sleep.
He saw his older sister, her gray eyes warm and friendly.
"You're doing great, Cornice!" she'd say, without even a hint of bitterness, even though she'd never made it past the third circle. She touched her snout to the top of his head affectionately. "Keep it up and you'll make it to the first circle in no time!"
"I'm so proud of you, little brother," she'd said when he'd made it into the second circle, wrapping her wings around him. She'd smelled like the ocean and her embrace had been warm, but not uncomfortably so.
She'd caught him his favorite fish on his hatching days and wholeheartedly celebrated his achievements because she genuinely cared about him.
And then their family had been shamed and they had inevitably lost that close bond. After that, they would look at each other only from a distance. Sky blue eyes meeting storm gray ones. And then Cornice would look away just as his sister opened her mouth to speak, to say something kind, to try to bridge the gap between them.
Because Cornice didn't want to close it.
"Why don't you leave me alone?" he'd hiss whenever her gaze lingered on him a little too long, when she strayed a little too close to reaching out to him. "I don't want anything to do with you anymore!"
Yet however hard he pushed her away, the concern never left her. She could still tell that beneath the part of him which did the hurting, he was hurt too.
In his dreams, Cornice felt the regret that he never allowed to surface while he was awake. "I'm sorry," he whispered, even while some part of him knew that apology to an inferior dragon was weakness. "I'm sorry…"
He saw his younger siblings, their sky blue eyes matching his own.
One, timid and shy and weak. The other, constantly fierce and filled with rage.
He remembered how his younger sister's claws anxiously gripped the ground whenever he came near her. How he bared his fangs and felt only satisfaction when she cringed away. How he always made her life miserable because his was too and if he had to suffer, everyone would.
He remembered how he and his younger brother fought. The familiar sounds of their accusatory snarls filled his mind. Cornice and the dragon he refused to call his brother, both filled with resentment and hatred. Cornice angry because he blamed his siblings for everything he had lost. His brother furious because he refused to take the constant abuse the way the other two did.
He remembered ridged claws slashing at each other's scales until both the pure white and the pale blue were covered in blood.
"You're no brother to me, red-bleeder!" Cornice snarled.
He remembered his father towering over him after pulling the two away from each other, furious at the way Cornice treated his siblings but unable to do anything but threaten and punish him. Deep down, both father and son knew that nothing Sigma did would ever be enough.
Cornice would always keep picking fights with his brother, because it was so easy to instigate one and because it helped, even just a little, to release all the pent up anger and frustration boiling beneath the surface. And his brother would always fight back, because Cornice had always hated him and bullied him.
Cornice would never acknowledge his siblings. His rebelliousness, his cruelty—those were the only parts of his life he could still control.
He remembered his mother, trying to help him succeed even though they both, knew that it was a lost cause. Training with him every single day. Encouraging him when his father didn't, when his father chose to cherish the other three and forget his only legitimate son. The only one truly worthy of his love.
"Maybe you're wrong…" whispered a traitorous part of his mind.
And even though in his dreams he felt traces of remorse, Cornice snarled back, "I'm not wrong! I'm his only real son! I'm the only one who really matters! The others are to blame; the others ruined everything I worked so hard to earn!"
His voice shook with anger, and deeper down, despair at the unfairness of the situation. He hadn't made his father's choices. Why should he suffer for them?
He should have never been thrown down into the third circle. He should still be close to the top, where he'd clawed his way up through his own effort.
"Would you even have gotten there at all without your sister?" the tiny voice in his head, remembering all the things she'd taught hin.
"Of course I would! I'm an IceWing—I'm stronger, I'm better…"
And he woke up, furious at the world and furious at himself for allowing all the thoughts he pushed away during the day to rush back in while he slept. His scales felt hot and sticky, and his mouth was unbearably dry. His head pounded even though he'd slept, as if he hadn't really gotten any rest at all.
Cornice had wanted to go out flying again for days, but he'd forced himself to wait for Ozone to come back. It was too risky.
You used your wing once, he'd reminded himself, trying to temper his pride with reason. And you didn't fall, but you did falter. Don't get a big head.
But now, he found that he couldn't resist the urge. He needed to find water, and he needed to feel the cool breeze against his overheated scales. He was sick of staying in the same cave for such a long time, sick of being absolutely powerless as he waited for a red-bleeder, of all dragons, to come along from time to time and help him.
I didn't need his help, Cornice seethed, spreading his wings and curling his claws around the mouth of the cave, looking down at the precipice below. I could have figured out how to fix the dislocation and learn the stretches without the ditsy SkyWing.
He was lying to himself, and he knew it.
Cornice closed his eyes and forced himself to take a few calming breaths. After a long moment, his primal, senseless anger—fueled by sleep deprivation—faded, replaced with a small but steady drip of guilt. Ozone had been nothing but kind to him. It wasn't fair to take out his own shortcomings on the SkyWing.
This isn't Ozone's fault, he thought, pushing all the pieces of this puzzle into their rightful places. I need to discipline my mind better.
He opened his eyes, feeling a little bit better now that he had a clear path to take. He might not be with the tribe anymore, might not really be an IceWing anymore, but he had been raised to be strong and confident. Discipline would always be something important to him, no matter who he was now.
Cornice would start small, start with the things he knew were still true about him. Then maybe he could figure out who exactly he was becoming.
I still need to go flying, he decided. But I'll be careful to avoid being seen.
He flexed his legs, preparing to leap out into the air. Then he paused, went back into the cave, and stretched his muscles the way Ozone had taught him, relieving the last remnants of lingering tension, before returning to the edge of the cliff.
The wind felt blissfully cool against his itching, overheated scales. Better yet, his left wing felt steadier than it had the first time he'd gone flying again.
He angled his wings to fly upward, close to the cloud cover, where his white scales camouflaged him. Against the gray and brown stones of the valley and the green of the trees populating it, he stuck out like an iceberg floating in the sea.
The air there was moist and Cornice exhaled, allowing the cold air inside his body to freeze the water vapor clinging to his scales. The resulting frost was wonderfully cold. Feeling rejuvenated, Cornice tucked his wings to his sides and plummeted through the air for a thrilling moment before he caught himself.
Now, all he needed to do was find fresh water to quench his thirst.
Cornice dipped beneath the clouds to scan the landscape below him. There was a river running the length of the valley, but the churning water looked fast and dangerous. Even the frigid ocean waves of the Ice Kingdom didn't have such a fierce current.
Don't be reckless, he reminded himself, angling his wings to continue flying past it instead of taking the risk. Remember what happened last time you thought you knew what you were doing. You crashed into a mountain.
Eventually, his caution was rewarded as spotted a lake far below. Scanning the area for signs SkyWings, Cornice found that the coast seemed clear.
He dove straight for the water and plunged in, feeling the chilling smoothness of it envelop him. He let himself float back to the surface, took a breath, and then drank a few gulps of the lake water. While it still had a minerally taste, it was much preferable to the stale rainwater he'd been drinking.
Once his thirst had been satisfied, he submerged himself again. Opening his eyes beneath the surface, he saw that the fish populating the lake had scattered, alarmed by the sudden splash of a dragon appearing in their midst.
Cornice couldn't help but laugh, releasing a cloud of bubbles, as he watched them flee. Compared to the open sea, hunting in this smaller body of water would be easy.
He might not have fins or gills like a SeaWing, but Cornice was a skillful swimmer nevertheless. When he'd been two years old, his mother had taught him techniques for holding his breath so he could pursue prey underwater.
He chased the largest fish he could find and cornered it between rocks near the edge of the lake. It tried to flee upward, but Cornice followed it and caught it in his jaws just as he burst through the surface, scattering water droplets everywhere.
He inhaled through his nostrils immediately, feeling relief sweep into his lungs, and set the still-struggling fish on the lakebed, pinning it down with serrated claws and killing it before it could escape. He swept his wings through the water to hover, satisfied by the successful chase, as he caught his breath.
Just then, a shadow fell over the sunlit water.
Looking up, Cornice spotted a SkyWing flying slowly overhead, turning his head from side to side with a frown of concentration on his face. Patrolling, most likely.
The dragon overhead was red with orange wings. His scales were much darker than Ozone's, and his eyes were a murky yellow color nothing like Ozone's vivid orange. One of his horns was shorter than the other, as if it had been snapped in half. In fact, the dragon was covered in scars, as if he'd fought in many battles before.
That must be Spark, Cornice guessed, his heart hammering in his chest. But he didn't care who it was. The only thing that mattered was that it wasn't Ozone, and that Cornice would be in deep trouble if the SkyWing noticed him. Please don't see me.
Thankfully, the patrolling dragon never thought to look down. He only swept his narrowed gaze across the surrounding mountains in a slow, thoughtful search before he moved on. Cornice watched him fly away, only daring to breathe normally again once the dark red figure was small against the rocky horizon.
That was far too close a call, he thought.
Grabbing his fish, he flew back to his cave as fast as his wings would carry him.