You Can't Change What Is

AN: Sorry for everyone who's about to get the notification, but this isn't anything new. This used to be titled 'What Makes a Strong Dragon Crumble' but I absolutely hated that title. I think this suits it much better.

This takes place during chapter 28 and ends partway through chapter 29. I recommend reading it before starting chapter 29 because of this.

Edited: (5/30/21)

Disclaimer: I do not own Wings of Fire. My OCs Flint, Aurora and the Spirits, and Faredir and Urfael are mine.

Faredir:

As they approached the palace, he noticed Winter split off towards his friend's balcony with a wave goodbye. He let a small smile appear on his muzzle as he changed his course. He landed on his own balcony not long after and entered his room with a small sigh.

It wasn't a depressed sigh, though. In fact, he was in a better mood than usual. The reason why was obvious. He had enjoyed his day training Winter. Ever since he met Zyfis for the first time, his desire to teach a pupil of his own has steadily grown over the years. And while he did end up teaching Zyfis a few things during the time the younger Changewing spent serving him, it wasn't exactly what he wanted—for obvious reasons.

Back during the war, Urfael had gifted many of his strongest and most loyal servants with Dark magic. Faredir was the first and strongest of these, so he often had to train the newly gifted on how to use and control their abilities. Of course, back then he believed that training others was a waste of time, and those unfortunate enough to be trained by him were made acutely aware of how he felt. He had even 'accidentally' killed a few of the more defiant or weaker trainees just to prove his point.

Now, however, Faredir was the last of his kind. No other dragon possessed Dark magic, and White magic had died off shortly after the Spirits left Pyrrhia. At least until Winter unlocked his own magic, that is. Now he had a chance to teach another dragon on how to use their magic once more.

He smiled as he reminisced on the events of the last two days. Winter was a…complicated dragon to say the least. His emotions could swing between anger, joy, and sadness in the blink of an eye, and his constant self-depreciation made that even worse. He struggled with nightmares to the point he was afraid to sleep by himself, and any mention of his past was enough to send him into a spiral of depression. His family and the rest of his tribe had all hated or abandoned him—with his brother as the only eventual exception. His friends he had sacrificed so much for hadn't really been as supportive as they should and eventually left him altogether. And the dragoness he loved had ultimately chosen his best friend over him.

Faredir rubbed his eyes, his smile completely gone at this point. He wanted to help Winter, but he honestly had no idea how to even start. The Icewing had been cast aside by almost everyone he had ever known at some point or another. The fact he would so easily accept him as a father-figure spoke to how desperately he wanted another dragon to actually love and care for him. Not that his brothers and friends didn't love and care for him, but Winter had had friends before. What he never had, though, was parents who cared.

He worried about the Icewing's mental stability. He doubted it would take much more for him to finally snap. He briefly wondered if Winter had ever been at such a low point to contemplate…that.

He was afraid he knew what the answer to that question was, but he wanted to ask regardless. Though, that was a question better suited for Zyfis. He didn't want to upset Winter by asking about such things.

He sighed again, this time it was one of sadness. Almost as soon as he was made aware of who Winter was after their first few encounters, Faredir had made every attempt to learn more about him—even going so far as to talk to his mother and sending spies to keep an eye on him during his travels.

He had fast come to realize there was a soft spot in his heart for the young Icewing who had suffered too much. Even if Winter had chosen Aurora over him in those caves, he had given his soldiers orders not to kill any of them. His entire performance down there had been nothing more than a bluff. He was glad it paid off, but he was worried that the rest of his friends will end up looking down on him in the future for his choice.

Be that as it may, he couldn't change the past, but he vowed then and there that he would always be there when Winter needed him. He would be the constant in his life and hope such security would help him heal old wounds.

He had been sitting in the same spot, letting his mind wander, for nearly thirty minutes when he heard a knock on the door. "Enter," he commanded.

The door opened, and one of his servants in Skywing guise entered and placed a tray of food on the table. Without making eye contact or saying a word, he did his duty and left, shutting the door on his way out. Faredir ate his meal then read the reports a few of his spies and captains had left him. It was all the same stuff—and usually things he already knew—but he read them all anyways.

Afterwards, his eyes drifted to the dreamvisitor sitting on the other side of the table. He didn't really need one of these things to enter someone's dreams, but this way was probably more…acceptable. After a quick glance, he confirmed that it was well past dark. Ruby should be asleep by now, so he grabbed the item and laid in his bed, thinking of the former Skywing Queen as he closed his eyes.

He opened them a short while later and looked around at his new surroundings. Evidently, Ruby was stressed out with the recent happenings. Else, why would she be dreaming of a beach looking out at a beautiful sunset? He had to stop himself from chuckling as he spotted her laying further down the beach, drinking from a coconut. It wouldn't do to ruin his image, after all.

He donned his Skywing disguise before making his way over to her. It wasn't as if he didn't want the former Queen to see his true form, but she had only ever seen him in this one. He saw her furrow her eye ridges in confusion as he approached—no doubt hearing his claw-steps—and turn in his direction. When she saw him, she jumped ever so slightly before composing herself, but she had already given her fear of him away.

He smirked diabolically. "So you do remember me," he mocked.

"It's hard to forget the dragon who usurps your Kingdom and kidnaps your son!" she shot back.

"Don't take it too personally," he advised. "I needed a base of operations to work from and a bargaining chip to ensure your cooperation. It's called good business."

She narrowed her eyes as if to intimidate him but found herself intimidated under his piercing glare. She shifted in her spot for a moment before continuing. "I was expecting you last night," she stated simply. Though, her unvoiced question of 'where were you?' was quite obvious.

"I was away from the palace and didn't have the dreamvisitor with me," he replied, matter-of-factly. "I assume Winter told you what I want?"

"You want me to call a summit," she confirmed. "But the question is why? Why do you want our help? Why can't you do this on your own? And most importantly…why, on Pyrrhia, should I help you?"

"The first two should be obvious. I don't have the resources or capabilities to destroy an entire tribe on my own—especially since they are scattered all across the continent. Hunting them all down would take too much time by myself," he explained. "As for why you should help? Let me put it simply: I am not your enemy, but there is another Changewing General who is…and he controls the prison where your son is."

Her eyes widened in horror. "You gave my son to your enemy!?"

"Our enemy," he corrected. "And yes, I did. How else was I to gain your attention? Prince Cliff wouldn't be in any danger if I had him as I wouldn't kill my only bargaining chip. However, giving him to our mutual enemy places him in very real danger. Without your cooperation, there would be no way to rescue him…or the others."

She seethed at him, but he simply smirked wider. He knew she would help him. Better yet, she knew it, too. "What others?" she asked. "Who else could you have possibly taken from me?"

"No one…at least as far as you're concerned. But as incentive for getting the other Queens to agree with the summit meeting, I'll tell you…so you can tell them. I have Coral's daughter, Tsunami. Glory's husband, Deathbringer. One or two of Moorhen's siblings, I don't remember their names, but I'm sure the Mudwing Queen knows which ones. And if having Thorn isn't enough of an incentive for Blaze, you can tell her I have someone else she cares about. Someone she believes to be dead but isn't."

As he listed off each name, Ruby's anger was replaced by resignation. "You took away the most important dragons from each of us to force us to help you…" She shook her head. "You're a monster."

Faredir's smirk disappeared. At one point, he would have relished in the anger, fear, hatred, and hopelessness that Ruby radiated. He would have once taken being called a monster as a compliment, but now it left a sour taste in his mouth. "I know," he said simply, though his expression was still stern. "But I do what must be done because no one else will do it. Perhaps in time, you will understand that."

"Don't hold your breath," was her hate-filled reply.

Faredir cut the connection without saying anything else, for what else could he say? He woke briefly and looked to the windows to gauge how much time he had spent in Ruby's dreams. The moons were still on their journey to their apex, so he had plenty of time to sleep. He laid down and shut his eyes once more and drifted off to dreams.

He woke just before dawn. That was normal, though. He preferred to wake early since he could go about his morning routine without running into anyone. Speaking of which… He looked to the closet where arguably the most important—and dangerous—object in Pyrrhian history rested. He checked on it every morning just in case there was any change in its behavior.

He got up and walked over to the large closet. He focused on the large metal chest and unlocked it with the key he kept hidden in the secret compartment on its side. It was impossible to find unless one knew where it was and opened when pressing a specific rune within the decorated lip of the chest itself. Once unlocked, he opened it and saw many things of importance. This is where he kept many of his personal items: letters from his beloved and a few mementos of their time together. The picture of her he kept within caught his eye and brought a smile to his face.

To him, she was the most beautiful Icewing—the most beautiful dragoness—in the world. The events which caused them to meet and eventually fall in love were…complicated. The portal that led to the Changewings' new home was deep within caverns below the Ice Kingdom. She had been in the fourth circle in standing and had decided to self-exile herself after her family was torn apart by Icewing politics and self-interest—by her own daughter, he would later learn. Not knowing where else to go, she sought shelter in the mountain range and found the caverns that wound its way down into the deepest reaches.

She found their lost civilization and was captured by the guards. Faredir himself was told of the breach and went down to see who had discovered them after so long. Despite her situation, she showed no fear when he questioned her. It was one of the reasons he allowed her to live among them when she asked for a place to belong. And though she started out in the lowest caste of the Changewing meritocracy, she quickly worked her way up to a position where she and him interacted on an almost daily basis.

He once asked what motivated her to work so hard for a tribe she didn't belong to. She had laughed lightly and winked at him. "To see you again, of course," had been her reply. He had rolled his eyes and grumbled something about the declining quality of those in upper-caste positions.

Of course, they eventually fell in love with each other. They had a son together, but Zyfis quickly grew bitter about how their tribe was ruled and joined a small gang of those with similar mindsets. They had never been a threat before. They were just a gathering of unhappy dragons who complained to each other of the unfairness in their lives. However, when Zyfis joined, that all changed.

His own son had turned a small group of discontent grumblers into a large, effective rebel force. They fought back against those in charge, but fights such as those always came with casualties. In the climax of the rebellion, the rebel faction stormed the palace where the nobility resided and where Faredir ruled. Zyfis' rebels ended up killing his own mother among several others, and their leader abandoned them to their fate once he found out what happened.

He surrendered and gave up all the information on his group. Faredir himself had killed everyone responsible, and when Zyfis was on his way to his public execution, Faredir had been the one to stop the axe from falling. He had blamed Zyfis for his beloved's death—he still did—but he wouldn't let his own son be killed, especially after she had asked him to spare their son.

That was the reason he didn't want to tell Zyfis the truth about who he was. He blamed him for his beloved's death, so he didn't want Zyfis to be his son. He had disowned him the day his beloved was killed. Call him a hypocrite, but he didn't care for Zyfis anymore than as a loyal soldier in his army. And even then, he still had to quash his anger and resentment every time he was around the little ingrate.

His smile faded. Taiga had been the brightest light in his very long and very dark life, and he sorely missed her. But now was no time to wallow in his misery. He put the picture carefully aside and moved a few things out of his way. The next thing that caught his attention was her circle necklace. It had four rings—denoting a fourth circle ranking. She had always worn it despite living amongst the Changewings. It was the only part of her past life she kept, and it was the only thing of hers he still had.

He placed that aside as well and once everything was out of the chest, he removed the false bottom and picked up a small, black box. To anyone else, the small metal box looked unassuming. It had no lock or latch to open it with, so he was the only one who knew how to unlock it. He let his Dark magic flow into the box and it opened with a small hiss to reveal a dark purple gem that fit snugly in the center of the box. Normally, the gem appeared dull, but to his concern, it was pulsing slowly…almost like a heartbeat.

Which is exactly what it was. For this was Urfael's soulgem. This gem held the soul of the most powerful dragon to ever live, but thankfully, he would stay trapped until one of the Spirits unlocked it. Absolutely no one else knew of its existence. When Moon entered his mind, this was the only thing he kept locked behind his mental walls.

Not even the Spirits knew it existed. They believed Urfael had been sent to the prison they created for him—and that was true. However…every prison needed a door. And this was the door they didn't realize existed. Faredir had made sure of that.

However, as he relocked the box and placed everything back to where it was originally, his thoughts turned to what he saw. Why would Urfael's soul be active again? The last time it was such was eight years ago. That was also the last time Faredir spoke with him. His powers were limited while locked away, but he could still communicate to dragons outside his prison once every few years or so.

Which begged the question: Who was Urfael communicating with?

The other Changewing general was the obvious answer, but Urfael had never spoken to him before, and he somehow doubted He would start. Without any answers to his question, he decided to take his mind off things and see if Winter was awake. The two of them had a lot more to go over regarding his training.

He walked down to the fourth floor. He did make sure to tell his servant to have the cooks prepare four meals of their best food—with one being Mudwing-sized. He was about to knock on the door to the room he gave Winter and Hailstorm when the door next to it opened. Moon popped her head out and gave him the universal gesture to be quiet. "Winter is in Flint's room," she whispered.

He nodded in thanks, and she reentered her room. He knocked on the third room's door and Winter opened it a few moments later. "If you want food, get it now. I'll be waiting for you in my quarters. Don't make me wait too long." He could see Winter's curiosity at his bluntness, and as he walked away, he realized he could have handled that a bit better.

However, he was still concerned over what he saw earlier. He returned to his room to wait and heard a knock not long after. "Enter," he commanded. Once again, his servant entered and deposited his breakfast onto the table.

On his way out, however, his servant spoke. "My Lord, there's a dragon waiting for you in the throne room. I believe he's one of the spies from the Summer Palace."

"Then why is he here?" he questioned. He didn't doubt his servant's claim. He knew every dragon Faredir sent out and what their missions were. It was one of the reasons the old dragon had been his servant for so long. "I never gave any orders for them to return."

"I'm not sure, My Lord, though he says it's quite urgent," he replied.

"Then send him up," he ordered.

The servant bowed and left to do just that. Faredir took the chance to eat before his underling arrived with his status report. And for their sake, he hoped it was astonishingly important. He didn't take well to those under his command defying orders. It was the one thing he usually still killed dragons for.

Once again, a knock sounded on his door, and a young, male Rainwing entered his quarters once Faredir called out, "Enter." He didn't really like Rainwings all that much. There were a few noteworthy individuals that he respected, but they were the exceptions. Most Rainwings weren't very intimidating, and as a dragon who specialized in fear and intimidation, he couldn't really give them the same respect as he could other tribes. Though, even he would admit that their ability to camouflage was quite a useful one for spies to have. "Report," he commanded.

"Well…uh, I've been keeping an eye on the dragons of interest and the Spirits since they returned to the Summer Palace—" he began but was interrupted by Faredir.

"Yes, I know what you've been doing; I'm the one that gave you the assignment!" he growled. "There had better be a point to this…"

The young Rainwing flinched slightly at the larger dragon's tone but nodded. "Of course…um, well…I'm not really sure how to say this, but…"

"Get on with it, already!" he shouted.

The Rainwing ducked down and covered his head with his wing as he shouted, "The Skywing Spirit betrayed the others, and they don't know where he's gone!" Faredir was dead silent. At first, he was so unprepared for the news that his mind went completely blank. However, the timing between what he saw earlier and what his spy just told him couldn't be coincidence. There had to be a connection. He saw the Rainwing peak over his wing since he hadn't reacted yet and whispered, "Uh…Lord Faredir?"

But Faredir wasn't listening anymore. He got up and started pacing as his mind processed the ramifications behind what he just heard. "No…" He turned around and paced back the other way. "No." All the while, his muscles were tensing and his breaths grew more ragged. "Everything I've worked for…RUINED!"

He roared in fury—loosing a pulse of his magic that sent everything around him flying—and grabbed the nearest thing he could. The bookshelf went flying across the room as he released another roar. "I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!"

He infused his claws with magic and repeatedly threw himself across the room and punched the walls in a fit of unbridled rage that sent chunks of the wall flying, creating large divots in the marble walls. He loosed another Dark pulse that sent debris flying—breaking even more stuff while simultaneously setting a few flammable objects on fire, but they burned purple. He heard one of the chandeliers crash to the ground, but he didn't care! In his rage, he wanted to—needed to—destroy everything! He grabbed the dresser next to him and threw it out the door—noticing that the Rainwing was nowhere in sight.

However, what he did see made him stop. Winter stood in the doorway gazing at the destruction he had caused in the room. When their gazes finally locked, Faredir saw him flinch back in fear. The sight of the one dragon he wanted to give a sense of safety to looking at him in fear began to calm him down ever so slowly. He saw determination fill the Icewing's eyes as he stepped forward. He growled a warning. He didn't have the capacity to form rational words right now, but he didn't want to hurt the one dragon he cared about.

Winter stopped, uncertain again. Then, he continued forward. Faredir's body reacted quicker than his mind. He raised his claws to strike before stopping himself. He gestured for him to wait.

When he calmed down enough, he explained the situation to Winter. The Icewing was scared—and reasonably so—and though Faredir tried to hide his own fear, he didn't doubt that Winter could pick it up. He pretty much ordered Winter for him to follow. They went up to the roof, and he explained how to form a shield with magic.

Hours passed as Winter practiced, and Faredir's frustration grew. Winter wasn't making any progress despite the simplicity of the task. Forming a shield was one of the easiest things to do with powers like theirs, and if he couldn't do that…

He growled. "Enough," Faredir declared at last. "You'll never be ready at this rate," he grumbled. "Can you at least recreate your accidental success from the other night?"

Winter shrugged but tried anyway. It was hard to say who was more surprised when the ball of light appeared in Winter's claws almost instantaneously. "That…was easier than I remember," Winter mumbled.

Faredir's surprise was quickly replaced by a grin—one he could see unnerved Winter. "Then we'll start with that instead. Throw it at me," he commanded.

What followed would haunt him for the rest of his life. At first, he wanted the impact of the first ball to be a taste of what would happen if Winter didn't get his shield up—incentive to succeed, as it were. The second ball, which Winter hesitated to throw, was stronger. It knocked the Icewing back farther and showed what would happen if Winter didn't do what he said when he said it.

After he had been hit a second time, Winter took too long to get up. "Again!" he ordered. Winter got up with a groan and trudged back to his spot. He looked to Faredir in defiance. Faredir stared down at him, a dangerous expression on his face. "I said: again," the larger dragon growled.

"No," Winter replied, sternly. "We're done for tonight. You need time to cool off before we start again."

He felt his anger spike. If there was one thing he hated above all others, it was when his subordinates disobeyed orders. "If you wish to continue receiving guidance from me, you will do as I say! Now…AGAIN!"

But Winter refused. At first he was too stunned to do anything. How DARE he challenge him! His fear of his father morphed with his anger at the news of his possible release—which in turn morphed with his hatred in being disobeyed in such a disrespectful manner. He offered to teach this ingrate! THIS was why he hated teaching! He remembered the flippant and disrespectful whelps he had once trained, and when Faredir looked to Winter again, that was what he saw.

He snapped.

He roared furiously and another Dark Ball was sent flying—this time charged to half power—and he had a brief moment of sick satisfaction when he realized his impudent underling couldn't dodge in time. Then it impacted. Winter was sent flying.

Then, he screamed. Once upon a time, Faredir would have laughed at seeing such pain inflicted on a dragon weaker than himself. Killer, monster, sadist—those were a few of the nicer names he was called back then.

But that wasn't who he was anymore.

As soon as his screams registered in Faredir's ears, the anger clouding his senses disappeared. Where he once saw one of the disrespectful whelps he had once trained and killed millenia ago, he now saw the dragon he had sworn to protect. Not even a day had passed, and he had already broken that oath.

Winter was still screaming, and upon realizing just what he had done, Faredir's legs almost gave out. "W-What have I done!" he whispered—the horror at the atrocity he just committed finally registering.

It felt like his body was paralyzed with the shock and horror coursing through him, but when Winter's screams turned into sobs and whimpers, Faredir finally rushed up to him. Seeing how Winter recoiled from him as if expecting the Changewing to finish him off broke his heart.

Seeing the damage he had caused broke his spirits.

There's no way he will survive this… he thought. He didn't know what he could do, but he wouldn't leave Winter here on this forsaken roof to die. If—If that was to happen, he deserved to be comfortable, at least.

He reached down and gently scooped the fatally injured Icewing into his arms and took flight towards his room. He didn't even try to hide the tears that were spilling silently from his eyes.

"F-Fa—" he heard Winter try to say.

Faredir looked down at him, momentarily, his eyes brimming with both fear and worry. Was he trying to say my name or…was he trying to say 'father?' I don't deserve to be called that anymore…if I ever even did in the first place. "Shh…don't speak," he said tenderly. They landed somewhat roughly, and he heard Winter whimper as the slight jarring made the pain spike. Faredir walked carefully through the wreckage of his room on his hind legs while using his wing knuckles to keep his balance. He set Winter down onto his bed.

Faredir had laid his head gently onto the pillows and saw him start to close his eyes. "Don't give up, Winter! Please…keep your eyes open!" he pleaded. He heard the door at the end of the hall slam open, but he didn't take his eyes off the now motionless corpse in front of him. N-No…

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" Zyfis screamed from the door. Faredir didn't answer as his eyes hardened with determination. He had heard rumors that a dragon's heart could be started again if jolted with electricity. He had never had a reason to attempt it before but trying was better than doing nothing at all.

He had only a moment to duck under the fist flying towards his face and grab the Mudwing by his throat. Despite his beefy physique, Faredir's size and strength allowed him to induce enough pressure to cause the smaller dragon to struggle to free himself. "Blame can come later—after I save him!" He threw the other dragon a short distance away from him and turned his attention back to Winter. Please let this work!

His magic flared to life in his claws—this time it took the form of arcing electricity rather than purple fire. Without any hesitation, he shoved his claws onto Winter's ravaged chest. The electricity immediately arced into Winter's body, causing it to bounce a little on the bed.

"W-What are you doing!?" Hailstorm yelled.

He looked up long enough to see Moon hold the other Icewing back from interfering before charging his claws again. The same thing happened as the first time, and he growled in growing fear and desperation. "It's not working!" he snarled.

"N-No, I felt him!" Moon argued. "I felt him!" He looked up at her and saw the same determination in her eyes as was in his. She wasn't giving up on him yet either. "Do it again!"

"Come on, Winter, fight!" Zyfis yelled.

"I can't lose you already, Winter! I just got you back!" Hailstorm's voice broke halfway through, and Faredir felt his heart break just a little more.

He didn't know if the others yelling things to try and motivate Winter to fight was working or not, but on the off chance it was, he tried getting through to him as well. "You can't give up, Winter! Not now! I won't let you!"

He charged up his claws again and looked to Moon. She still hadn't said anything. However, he watched as she leaned down to kiss Winter's cheek and whisper into his ear the words, "I love you."

Almost as soon as Moon said those words and his claws made contact with Winter's chest again, Winter's eyes flew open, and he gasped in as much air as his broken ribs would let him. His eyes almost immediately started closing. "Oh, no you don't!" He charged his claws and shoved them into his chest again, causing him to scream in agony again.

"What are you doing!?" Zyfis yelled again—this time sounding much more hostile.

What was he doing? This was an extremely temporary solution for keeping Winter awake, much less alive. Dark Magic wasn't meant to heal wounds on other dragons. He could use it to heal himself, but for others it was only a tool for destruction and death. Winter's White Magic might work, but the Icewing was currently too busy dying to help. No animus dragons were close enough to help, either, so that left Spirit Magic, but none of the Spirits would ever step foot in the same room as him. No other sources of magic were available that he—

Of course!

"Trying to keep him alive!" Faredir shot back. "I need his chest-plate and anchor!" When no one moved, he grabbed the closest dragon to him—Zyfis—and all but threw him to the door. "Do as I say! Else he'll be dead in the next five minutes!"

He did what he could to keep Winter alive until Zyfis returned, but he couldn't imagine the agony Winter was experiencing because of it. Every scream would be forever seared into his memory and would no doubt haunt his dreams for years to come. He realized through the entire process that Moon was the one who gave Winter the strength to continue on. And it was also her that never doubted Faredir for a moment.

He had expected Winter to be dead again within five minutes, but to his eternal surprise, the Icewing held on for the twelve minutes it took for Zyfis to finally return dragging the chest-plate and anchor across the floor as if it were the heaviest thing in the world.

Faredir picked it up with ease—why he was able to, he had no idea—and looked Winter in the eye, "This might hurt at first, but it'll save your life." He placed it atop Winter's chest, causing the Icewing to scream again, but it was cut off as a brilliant flash of white light erupted from it. It was so bright, Faredir had to close his eyes, turn away, and use his claws to further shield them from the light.

When it disappeared after a few seconds, he turned to look at Winter. He was alive. Unconscious…but alive. He breathed a sigh of relief and placed a gentle claw over Winter's neck to check for his pule. It was weak, but it was steady.

"Will he be okay?" Moon asked, quietly.

He looked to her and nodded. "The anchor saved his life. When he wakes, he will doubtless be in great pain, and he'll be sore for a while afterwards, but he'll live." He pointed to the anchor, which was sending a pulse of white energy throughout the conduits on its surface and into the chest-plate itself. "As long as it does that, do not let him remove that chest-plate," he said. He got up as if to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I—"

He was hit so hard in the side of the face that he was sent crashing into the floor several feet away. He was able to keep his feet under him—barely—and winced when he felt the spot he had been hit. His cheekbone was most likely broken if what he felt was any indication. He also tasted blood, so checked his teeth with his tongue and found one that was loose. He spit it and a small glob of blood onto the floor. His wounds began healing automatically and would be completely gone within less than a minute...but, three moons that hurt.

A growl rose up his throat as he turned to see who the culprit was, but it died when he saw the expressions on the other three dragons. Hailstorm was looking at Winter with tears in his eyes and looked like he was about to be sick. Moon was shedding a few tears, too, and she was gently caressing the side of Winter's face with her thumb and wouldn't even look in his direction. Zyfis, though, was glaring at him with such seething rage that Faredir was honestly surprised that the Mudwing had refrained from attacking him again.

And normally, he wouldn't have cared who it was that struck him, he would have beat the imbecile within an inch of his life for daring to hit him. However, the current situation and Winter's fondness for the Mudwing stayed Faredir's claws.

"YOU TOLD HIM HE WOULD BE SAFE HERE! HE TRUSTED YOU!" Zyfis roared.

Faredir stood and glared back at him. "I wasn't my intention to—"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOUR INTENTIONS WERE!" he screamed almost hysterically.

"Enough! Zyfis—"

"MY NAME IS FLINT! And I don't care about any debts I still owe you! If you ever hurt him again, I will personally end you!" he yelled.

Faredir narrowed his eyes as if daring the Mudwing to try it. When Zyfis—or Flint, as he preferred—didn't back down, he turned away and started walking out into the hallway. "You may use this room for as long as necessary, but I don't want to see any of you until we leave for the summit. I've had enough of dragonet-sitting."

Despite his stoic exterior, Faredir was a mess of conflicting emotions on the inside. Fifteen thousand years of practice helped him keep a strong façade—barely. He walked to the farthest room and entered it. If he remembered correctly, this used to be Vermillion's room before he was captured by his agents.

I guess he forgot to mention him to Ruby.

He sat down heavily in front of the wall-mirror and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index talon. With a sigh, he looked to the mirror at his reflection. A Skywing stared back at him. He didn't really feel in the mood for being a Skywing anymore since he had almost killed Winter as one.

He shifted into his natural form, and for the first time ever, he looked upon himself with disgust. He had accepted who and what he was a long time ago. He was a warrior, both capable and guilty of some of the worst atrocities ever witnessed in Pyrrhia's history. Killing came as easy to him as breathing. He was made that way. Now that he had something more than that to live for, he had tried to escape what he was.

But you just don't turn it off…

During the war, he didn't kill because he was ordered to, he killed because he wanted to. War and death were a part of him. They were in his blood. Everything else: peace, love, happiness… It was all just an accident.

He had accepted that once, long ago. But now…

Now, he hated what he was.

Taiga had tried to make him something else, and he had tried to be better for her sake. But whatever part of him she had changed died the same day she did. There was no use in lamenting what he could be…because he couldn't change who he was.

He grabbed a few nearby empty scrolls and started writing different techniques and their corresponding theories on how to use magic. He still had an obligation to teach Winter, but he wouldn't risk another accident like today.

When he finished several hours later, he sent the scrolls with his servant to be delivered to Moon, so she could give them to Winter. He looked back up at his reflection with a thoughtful expression. I think it's time for a new look. He shifted into his Sandwing form then looked at his tail. As if I didn't have enough ways to kill dragons before, he thought wryly. So, he shifted into his Mudwing form. It was his largest form, and he was a bit cramped in the room now. Too bulky.

He shifted to his Nightwing form, but it just didn't feel right to him. He knew what form he wanted to take, but he didn't think it was morally right to take it. He had forms for all seven of Pyrrhia's tribes that he had taken from dragons during the war. And while most of them were simply taken to be tools, one of them was taken as a trophy.

He shifted into his Icewing form…and saw his old rival staring back at him.

He shifted back into his Skywing form with a sigh. Yes…he didn't think Winter would appreciate seeing him walking around in the form of his ancestor. He frowned to himself, Though I don't understand why I care. It's not like he'll even want anything to do with me anymore.

The next day, there was a knock on his door.

AN: He tried to be different for Winter's sake, but you can't change what is.

Fun Fact: I originally planned Faredir to go into the other room and break down into a mess of emotions, but I decided that didn't really fit with his character. I figured him realizing what happened was unavoidable because of who and what he is was a better path to take, and several of the lines in his inner dialogue were inspired or taken from Rambo (which I also don't own). Does anyone else agree? Disagree?

Until Next Time

AdmiralCole22