A strong wind blew through the swamps, picking up dirt and stinging against Schist's cracked scales. Schist barely noticed. After eight years, he was used to it. When every step crushed his scales together, the pain had settled into the background, and as long as he kept his mind focused on something else, it was ignorable.
"Schist," a voice spoke up. "You okay?" Glen moved a talon to tap a claw on the left side of Schist's neck, then thought better of it.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Schist answered. Falling out of his trance, he glanced around him, taking in his surroundings. Glen was next to him, in the middle of the small camp she'd set up. Various tents had been set up in the roots of trees, forming gnarled pathways across the water surface. Maybe a hundred or so MudWings were gathered in the watery swamp, some climbing over the roots, and others swimming through the water.
"Do you want to go soak in a mud pool, or visit the healer's tent?" Glen asked.
"I'm fine," Schist snapped, sounding a bit more irritated than he'd intended. If his sib had noticed or felt hurt, she didn't show it. Since Schist's return, Glen had completely changed her mood towards him. Instead of being demanding and controlling, she seemed much more cautious, and more conscious of how Schist was feeling and what he was thinking. Even though he knew she was just trying to be helpful, it annoyed Schist. He didn't need special attention from his sister, she didn't need to treat him differently from the rest of her troop just because of his injuries.
"Alright," Glen smiled, and turned to the side. A small golden pendant in the shape of a star swung from her neck, a ruby embedded in the center. Schist eyed it warily. Glen had found it a few years ago, before Moorhen had attacked the village. She'd claimed that it had been a gift from a friend, but Schist knew the truth — Glen had found it in the ruins of Adobe's tower. She'd avoided answering his questions when he'd asked if it was enchanted, and what it did if so, but Schist had some clue. Compared to the other MudWings she'd fought beside, she seemed stronger, more agile, and less prone to injury. She was able to fly longer, even when every other dragon around her was exhausted.
Whatever. Schist wanted nothing more to do with animus magic, especially if it was something Adobe had made. Adobe had taken their bigwings from them, and Schist didn't want to touch anything he'd made. But if Glen was willing to use it, that was her choice to make.
"General!" a voice suddenly yelled, as a grey-brown MudWing surfaced through the water, climbing up onto the roots Glen and Schist were perched on. "Permission to speak?"
Glen immediately turned her head, looking over at the MudWing. "Permission granted," she responded. "Good news, I hope?"
The MudWing shrugged his wings back and forth. "Maybe," he replied. "We've caught a dragon outside of our camp."
Glen frowned. "One of Queen Moorhen's spies? I didn't think she had that many resources to spare on us."
The soldier shook his head. "Er, no, we don't think he's with the crown. He's a NightWing."
Schist's eyes opened wide in surprise. "A NightWing?" he suddenly spoke up. "Does he have a cat with him?"
The MudWing nodded. "Yes, a blue-grey one. Are you acquainted?"
"He visited seven or so years ago, back when we still had the village," Glen snorted. "Took a few of our dragons, told us about the prophecy and left. He's with the Talons. He's safe. Bring him here."
The MudWing bowed his head, and dove back into the swamp-waters, splashing Schist. Schist frowned. Trustbreaker was back? Was Griffin with him? What about Torrent and Crystal? It didn't sound like it, or else the soldier would have reported that to Glen. Why had he come, and why now? Most of the MudWings in Glen's rebellion were supporters of the Talons, or at least indifferent, could it have something to do with that?
Before long, three MudWings came walking down one of the root pathways, along with a silvery-black dragon standing between them. The dappled sunlight through the leaves of the trees seemed to give him a slight orange glow, and a livid cat rested on his back, sleeping quietly, oblivious to his surroundings. Sapphire, if Schist remembered correctly.
The three MudWings brought him up before Glen, Trustbreaker with a sorrowful expression on his snout. Glen tsked. "How did you find our camp? It's supposed to be secret."
"It was foretold," Trustbreaker replied. Sapphire stretched out on his back, before falling back into sleep.
"I thought you couldn't tell the future?" Schist asked warily.
"It wasn't me," the NightWing explained, "the Talons' prophet told me the way."
"Morrowseer?" Glen quickly asked. "He's the one who did the prophecy, right?"
"Yes, he did foresee the prophecy," Trustbreaker replied. "The Talons of Peace wanted to ask you of something."
"What?" Glen sighed. "We're busy right now, and our numbers are small. We can't provide troops, if that's what the so-called Talons of 'Peace' are looking for."
Trustbreaker shook his head. "We want you to hold off your assault on the MudWing capital until after the war has ended."
Glen looked at him for a moment, locking her eyes with his. She suddenly burst out laughing. "You're serious?" she snickered. "You want us to wait, what, five years, according to your prophecy?"
Trustbreaker nodded. A stray wind blew through the swamp, rustling through Sapphire's fur.
"And why would we do that?" Glen interrogated. "This is the best time to strike. Queen Moorhen's army is split between the IceWings, SeaWings, and us. She won't be protecting her capital. Up to this point, we've had to fight hit-and-run, but we're recruiting from further north. The MudWings are tired of Queen Moorhen letting Burn, Scarlet, Blister, and Coral trample over them. They'll answer our call, and with the capital beneath our wings, we'll force Queen Moorhen to declare the north's sovereignty."
"It won't work," Trustbreaker sighed. Glen bared her teeth slightly. "Your army isn't near big enough for a full assault, and the draft has taken away most of the sib groups that would've joined with you. Even if you manage to take the capital, your losses will be tremendous. The MudWing army may be divided, but numbers-wise, it's the strongest in Pyrrhia, and is too organized right now. She'll pull her troops back to the capital, and surrounded by enemies loyal to the crown, you'll be crushed. If you manage to capture Queen Moorhen and force her to declare your independence, it still won't matter. Queen Scarlet will attack, and your lands will be hers for the taking."
Glen growled, slightly annoyed at his explanation. "Is this a prophecy?"
Trustbreaker nodded solemnly. "Somewhat. It's a list of outcomes that hav — that could occur if you attack the capital now. But after the war ends, troops will return to their homeland. They'll have lost sibs and friends. Moorhen's army won't have time nor energy to get back into action to protect against your rebellion, and she'll easily concede the northern territory to you. Three years after the war is over, the earth will shake, and you will have a bloodless victory. Continue your guerilla now, if that's what you think is best, but wait until the war is done to go after the capital."
Glen flicked her tongue in and out, unsure whether to trust Trustbreaker or not. "I'll need confirmation," she skeptically replied. "Some prediction of the near future. Can you provide that?"
"Yes," Trustbreaker answered. "I was told you would ask for that, and I'm prepared. Tomorrow morning, Moorhen's forces will attack your camp, hoping to attack you by surprise. If this comes true, please consider my advice."
Glen hissed. "They're planning an ambush? Do they have spies? Who betrayed our location?"
Trustbreaker sighed, and looked down at the roots, ashamed. "Petrol."
"Petrol?" Schist asked in surprise. "He wouldn't betray us." He couldn't. Petrol had grown up in Adobe's village with Schist. He'd known Petrol since a dragonet.
Glen glared at one of the MudWings that had brought Trustbreaker before her. "Bring Petrol to me," she seethed. The soldier quickly bowed his head, and turned around, going to get reinforcements.
As he watched the MudWing disappear out of view, Schist turned back to Trustbreaker. "So, is Griffin . . ."
"He's alive," the NightWing answered. "Fracture and Clarity are going to visit him as we speak."
"That's good," Schist responded, unsure what to think of it. "What about Torrent and Crystal?"
Trustbreaker looked away uncomfortably, as if there was something he wasn't telling Schist. "Also still alive."
Schist frowned. 'Alive' wasn't the most positive of descriptors. But it had been seven years. Whatever had happened to them, they weren't the same dragons (and gryphon) Schist had known. Neither was he.
Trustbreaker stepped to the side as three MudWings pushed Petrol in, the MudWing's teeth bared. He hissed at one of the guards, but didn't attempt to fight them. He looked up towards Glen, who disapprovingly glared back at him.
"Is it true?" she growled. "You betrayed our camp's location to Queen Moorhen?"
Petrol was silent for a moment, as he locked eyes with Glen. Finally, he spoke up. "They said they'd give everyone but the ringleaders mercy. We'd be able to stop this stupid fight against the crown that we're unable to win."
Glen roared furiously, attracting the attention of the other MudWings around. They watched her curiously. "You're a traitor to our rebellion!" she growled. "How stupid can you be to trust the crown? You think they'll give us mercy? Everyone who they don't massacre right away and 'spare' will be put in their army to die in a suicidal rush against the IceWings." Glen sharpened her claws on the root beneath her, then stepped forward, her talons raised. Petrol flinched back, and closed his eyes with a whimper.
"Glen, please," Schist suddenly pleaded. "This is Petrol. He just wanted to help make things right. Give him mercy."
Glen glared at her sib. "You heard what he said. Everyone but the ringleaders. Schist, you're my brother. You're included in that group. He knowingly would have allowed you and I killed." She turned back towards Petrol, her teeth bared. "We can afford mercy in times of peace. But not in times of war, where our lives are at stake. So, I'll give Petrol mercy. The same mercy he has given us."
Glen suddenly lunged forward at Petrol. Petrol let out a shrill scream of terror, and tried to put his claws up to protect himself, but Glen was too fast. Her jaws closed around Petrol's neck, and tore into it, her talons holding him down. In an instant, she had ripped out his throat, blood dripping from her jaws and down her scales, staining red the golden medallion around her neck. She turned towards the MudWings watching her.
"Let this be a warning to anyone who chooses to betray the rebellion!" she roared, spitting out a hunk of flesh and blood. "When our sibs' lives are at stake, there can be no mercy! Only justice!"
As Schist stared down at Petrol's body, the young MudWing still shaking before finally going still, Glen turned to the soldiers. "Make sure that the entire camp hears of this," she ordered. "I don't want rumors. I want everyone to know that Petrol's punishment was just."
The MudWings glanced at each other, and three quickly scampered away into the swamp, leaving two behind. Glen set her gaze on Trustbreaker. "I believe your prophecy," she stated. "Thank you for the advice. I will make a choice on what you have told me."
Trustbreaker bowed his head slightly. "No. Thank you for considering the information I've brought you. May the winds be at your side."
The NightWing glanced towards Schist in a silent expression of apology, then walked back across the bridge of roots, carefully stepping around the trickles of blood running from Petrol's corpse.
My dearest Diamondback, I apologize that I have been unable to write to you until this point. Queen Blister does not allow us to communicate back to the Sand Kingdom, and just by writing this, my life may be in grave danger. So that this message isn't traced back to me if found, it is unsigned, but the phrase 'a finished tale of an IceWing's tail' should both warm your heart and verify my identity. Do not try to write back, for both my safety and yours.
I hope that the war has not gotten the best of you, and that our dragonet is safe. While the physical rift in our relationship has only widened, I feel like our feelings for each other will never die. This is no place for a dragonet, but I hav—
A dull scratch sounded on the door, muted by the water enclosing it, and the handle started to turn. Angler looked up from the small piece of scroll in a start, and turned towards the door to his bedroom.
It opened quickly, and an irritated teal SeaWing ducked his head as he entered Angler's chamber, his horns almost hitting the top of the frame. The huge SeaWing squeezed through the doorway, golden bands around each of his ankles.
Father, Angler flashed, irritated, please leave. I'm busy. I just made a breakthrough.
King Gill condescendingly examined his dragonet's room. Angler didn't seem to be taking well care of it. Remains of fish bones were scattered around the water, giving it a sickly taste. Angler himself didn't look too good either — his milky-green scales were dull, with grime between the cracks, and his ribs were barely visible, far too thin for a SeaWing prince. In the center of his room, where Angler was now, dense rocks and pieces of metal were holding waxed scrolls to the ground, with black claw-scratched notes resting beside them. More scrolls were piled up to the side of the room.
Angler himself stood with his wings clenched in, his neck hunched over as he read one of the numerous pieces of scrolls. He growled quietly.
Gill growled back. You weren't at the hatching today. Everyone in the Royal Family was there but you.
As I said, I was busy, Angler snapped. No one missed me. None of my brothers care for me anyways, I'm too old. How many are there now? Seventeen, myself not included?
There were eighteen. Twenty-one now. Do you even know their names?
Do you? Angler laughed back. And why should I care? Mother sure doesn't.
Turtle, Cerulean, and Octopus.
Did you pull those out of Mother's scrolls, or was it the other way around? You've got twenty-one other sons to go bother, why do you pick on me? Go bother one of the others, or see if you can keep Mother from Coast for a second.
Gill bared his teeth, barely holding back a roar of anger. Princess Coast was murdered two weeks ago!
Angler looked over towards his father, trying to put on a expression of grief. I'm sorry for your loss. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was reading this scroll.
Gill swished his tail from side to side, creating a wave of bubbles across the room. It's been eleven years, Anglerfish! Rift is dead, and you need to come to terms with that. You can't just live out the rest of your life in this dumpy room. You're a prince, and my eldest son. You should be doing princely things, like . . .
Like fighting in the war? I'll pass. Anyways, you're wrong. Angler glanced down to his scroll quickly.
Gill shook his head. No, I'm not. Dragons just die sometimes. That's just how this world works, and you have to move on, and create your own life. He's not the only one. Coast, Orca, Tempest, Seahorse, Torrent . . . it just happens.
I've come too far to believe that, Angler scoffed. Look at this letter! He grabbed the scroll he was reading, and shoved it towards his father. See, read right here! It sa—
Gill roared and swiped his paw forward, ripping the letter from Angler's claws with a tearing noise, throwing the pieces to the ground. No one wants to hear your stupid conspiracy theories anymore!
Angler quickly rushed towards the ripped letter. Gill swing his tail in a circle as he turned around, creating a wave that uplifted some of the rocks on the floor, disorganizing the collection of scrolls and papers Angler had carefully placed.
Gill turned. I've had enough of this.
As Gill left the room, Angler got to work setting things in their positions again. As soon as he was done, he took the two pieces of the scroll Gill had ripped, and placed them together, using his talons to pin them. He started to read it again, this time able to finish the entire thing without interruption:
My dearest Diamondback, I apologize that I have been unable to write to you until this point. Queen Blister does not allow us to communicate back to the Sand Kingdom, and just by writing this, my life may be in grave danger. So that this message isn't traced back to me if found, it is unsigned, but the phrase 'a finished tail of an IceWing's tail' should both warm your heart and verify my identity. Do not try to write back, for both my safety and yours.
I hope that the war has not gotten the best of you, and that our dragonet is safe. While the physical rift in our relationship has only widened, I feel like our feelings for each other will never die. This is no place for a dragonet, but I have recently learned that Queen Blister has been most successful in her ventures, quite fortunately. The war seems to be coming close to an end, and it appears that the SeaWings will be our fine allies for many years after. Hopefully, the domestic issues that Burn has caused will be healed, through violence or through a more powerful alliance.
I shouldn't feel any need to remind you, but the Scorpion Den is a dangerous place. I worry for your safety. Even those who claim to be on our side may be supporting a rival queen. It is clear that Blaze's IceWings are especially dangerous, and her allies, hidden in darkness, might kill you at a notice's glance. There will be no truly peaceful resolution to this war or any future ones, which is why Queen Blister has been treating us all so well.
I came up with a few suggestions for names of our dragonet, but I'm still unsure as to what exactly we'll plan on calling her. I may be here for a while longer, so do not plan on waiting for me. My cousins are dull, but loyal. Go to them, and make sure they get the same advice I've given you in this letter. Cold and shadowy traitors to Queen Blister are all around, and while they pretend that they don't want to be violent, they'll hurt both you and our dragonet if they realize my importance to her. I have recently been promoted to a great position, and report directly to her, so I will hopefully be able to provide future warnings, if things do not go sour. There is possibility that the evil is directly in our midsts, when we thought we were allied with good dragons, so I would avoid there.
Angler had already figured out the name of the SandWing who'd sent the letter from a previous message in the same clawscript he'd found. It was Quill, like the quills on the end of an IceWing's tail. And Diamondback, the SandWing he was writing to, didn't have a dragonet, at least according to the records he'd found. So whatever this message was trying to say, it was written in code. 'Cold and shadowy traitors' — IceWings and NightWings? Some warning about that? Queen Blister was secretly forging an alliance with the IceWings and NightWings? It seemed strange, but possible.
The entire message seemed out-of-place, and strange, but the part which grabbed Angler's attention was the phrase 'the physical rift in our relationship.' It had to be referring to Rift. Quill wouldn't have included it otherwise. Angler had been skeptical of Blister's story of Rift's death since the start. Could he still be alive somewhere?
Angler placed the pieces of the letter down, and turned to a few long scrolls, next to each other. The first was a list of Blister's troops consisting of a name from each SandWing in her army. The next scroll over was a more recent documentation of battles that had occured, with a record of dragons that had participated in them. Sorely lacking, but it was something. Angler had scratched faint tallies on the first scroll, one for each battle the SandWing had participated in, and had found something strange — there were a ton of SandWings without tallies, much more than the registered death count and the errors in the documentation. Blister had hundreds, maybe thousands, of troops that had never participated in a battle.
Each of these dragons had their names circled, and were written down by Angler in a separate scroll. While a number of these he'd been able to explain as desertion or casualties, many of these dragons had little record of existence since the war had started. They had disappeared off the face of Pyrrhia. Quill was one of these.
Angler turned to a separate scroll, this one a letter he had found addressed from Blister to Angler's mother, suggesting that Coral having her own soldiers spy on each other to promote loyalty, and explaining how it had worked very well for Blister. Alongside it was a half-finished response from Queen Coral, rejecting the idea in slightly unflattering language. While the letter itself was uninteresting, it was important for one reason — Blister had given an example of a soldier, Warthog, that she had used this technique on. And Warthog was on the list of mysterious SandWings who had never participated in a battle.
Another letter caught Angler's eyes, one of the oldest in his collection. A draft of a letter that Queen Coral had sent Blister, a couple of years before Rift's death, towards the start of the war.
Dear Princess Blister,
I would be glad to provide temporary land in the Sea Kingdom during our alliance, although I should mention that we are on somewhat short supply of empty land. It would be helpful to provide more information as to what the purpose of this land would be, and if it would need to be arable or not.
Signed,
Her majesty, Queen Coral.
Angler had looked for more letters following the exchange, but there didn't appear to be any. He had even asked his mother about it. She barely remembered the conversation, but thought that she might have remembered telling Blister during a Summer Palace visit that she could use one of the islands in the east of the bay. Not very helpful, it was called the Bay of a Thousand Scales for a reason, but it was a start.
Angler pulled out a map of the Sea Kingdom, numerous islands with small lines dragged through them. He'd find Rift one day, but until then Blister would just have to wait for Angler to drag her corpse down to the bottom of the seafloor.
Kite awoke from her dreams to the acrid smell of smoke. It took a few moments for it to wake her, as the SkyWing covered her snout with her wings, then flapped them to push away the smell. But when she finally had regained consciousness enough to realize what was happening, she raised her head in alarm, her eyes wide open. "Fire," she whispered.
Kite burst through the doors of her small house, and looked in horror at what was happening. Fire had spread through the village, catching every piece of wood in sight alight. Kite looked upwards, towards the peak looming above them. The dry fields of corn were aflame, being eaten alive by the fire. "No," Kite stated, almost unable to believe it.
She looked around at the village, the fire slowly spreading towards her location. Dragons were starting to panic, running from their houses as they realized what was happening. "FIRE!" Kite roared, trying to wake up any SkyWings still asleep. "FIRE!"
This wasn't supposed to happen. There were precautions in place. No dragonet could have done this accidentally. Were they under attack? Kite scanned the area, but it didn't look like it. She turned to the first SkyWing who got near her, grabbing him by the wing. He turned towards her. Kite knew him. Sparrow. He was trustworthy.
"Get everyone organized and safe first," she ordered him, drawing the attention of a few other SkyWings. "Keep calm. Try and salvage what you can, but don't put anyone at risk. I need to find Bobcat."
Before Sparrow could respond, Kite took off, flying towards the edge of the village, at the base of where the plateau met the mountain. Her heart raced as she saw the flames from above. The sloped roofs of the village center, Bobcat's residence, all on fire, sending smoke up into the sky above.
Kite quickly dove down in a panic, towards the small entrance of the ancient building. Fire was all around it, pieces of the house starting to crumble and fall beneath it. Kite didn't care. Her scales would protect her. She needed to get her great-grandmother to safety.
As she started towards the burning doorway, she felt talons grasp around the end of her tail. Kite whipped around to see a young SkyWing, barely an adult. Glide. She seemed out of breath, and desperate. "Don't go in," Glide pleaded.
"I have to," Kite growled back, then turned back to the building. As she was about to walk forward, she suddenly heard a rumble. The pillars keeping it up started to crack, as the fire removed the structural support. Kite jumped backwards as the whole house collapsed on itself, spraying embers into Kite's scales. After a burst of flame, all that was left was a heap of burning rubble.
Kite stared on in shock for a moment, her eyes glazed over. "I'm sorry," Glide whispered, though it was like Kite didn't hear. Bobcat, her great-grandmother, her greatest friend, the SkyWing who had raised her, made Kite who she was, who made the entire village what it was today. Dead.
Kite shook her head back and forth. She could grieve later. Right now, the SkyWings needed safety and leadership. She turned towards Glide, away from the embers of the house, joining with the fields of crops behind it. "How did the fire start?" she growled.
"I-I-I'm not sure," Glide stammered. "Goat was there, and she was holding something, and there was a dragonet, her dragonet."
"Goat doesn't have any dragonets," Kite answered. "She's forbidden from having any, since—"
Kite gulped in fear as she realized what must had happened. Goat was forbidden from having dragonets because she was Magma's niece, which meant that she could potentially hatch a dragon with firescales. Too much fire, stolen from the belly of their sibling, burning everything their scales touched. It must have done this.
"Where's Goat?" Kite seethed, staring directly into Glide's eyes.
Glide pointed a talon up towards the sky, towards the west. Kite followed it with her eyes, until she saw a dark figure in the distance, lit by the moons. For a moment, Kite thought it seemed too bulky to be a dragon, until she realized that the dragon seemed to be holding some sort of platform beneath her, carrying something on it. Goat, escaping with a dragonet.
"Where's the dragonet? Does Goat have it? Were there two? Which one does she have?"
"I don't know," Glide whimpered. "She woke everyone nearby up. She was crying and yelling, and she was holding something small and blackened, it smelled like burnt flesh. It might have been another dragonet, I'm not sure. It might have had yellow scales but it was hard to see. Then there was another dragonet, and everything was on fire and there was more yelling and screaming but this time from other dragons. Are you going to go after her?"
Kite considered it for a second. Go after Goat, avenge Bobcat's death, make sure that any firescales dragonet was dead. She glanced back towards the crops, then over to the flaming village. The other SkyWings needed her right now. This was the duty Bobcat had given her. Everyone's safety was her first priority. "No. Go around and make sure everyone is awake and away from their homes. If there's any food you can salvage, do it, but don't put your life at risk."
Glide quickly shook her head up and down, then spread her wings open, flying the short distance back towards the village. Kite opened her wings, feeling the wind picking up beneath them, then gave a quick glance back towards the village center, now a smoldering piles of wood. She desperately wanted to go and look for Bobcat, but knew that there was no chance of her survival, and she'd just be putting herself at risk. She couldn't do that — she was in charge now, and her village couldn't lose two of its leaders in one day. They had a long winter coming ahead of them, and they needed her. And if Magma had been born anew, ready to avenge her death, everyone needed all the protection they could get.
Torrent walked through the alleys of Crosswinds, a thick shawl wrapped around his wings and body. His snout peeked out from it, and he cautiously looked around, trying to avoid any dragons. The dim moonlight shone on the edge of his tail, illuminating his cerulean scales faintly.
He heard a faint whimper, and looked down, beneath the cloth. A small dragonet rustled in his foreclaws, awakening from her sleep. Torrent felt a pang of guilt seeing Midnight. He had worked to protect Pyrrhia from animuses, but hadn't even been able to protect his family. He didn't deserve a dragonet.
Making sure that no one was watching, the SeaWing quickly walked out from the alleyway towards a run-down house. Some of the bricks looked like they had been scorched. A poster fluttered in the wind, hung up the house next door. "Go Home, Swamprats." Torrent had wanted to take Midnight to Possibility instead of Crosswinds, but it wasn't like there was much of a choice. He couldn't trust the Talons anymore. They had connections to Crystal through Clarity, and if she ever came back to finish the job, that would be where she'd look first. Here, Midnight would be hidden.
Torrent knocked on the door to the house. Midnight whimpered quietly. Hopefully, this was the right place. The door creaked open a crack, and the beady black eye of a SandWing poked through it. "Who is it?" a voice quietly croaked.
"It's Torrent," the SeaWing responded. He lifted the shawl up slightly, showing Gazelle his blue scales.
"Torrent?" Gazelle asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.
"Yes," Torrent replied. "From two years ago? Erosion?"
"Erosion," she hissed, a pang of anger in her voice. "Oh, you're that Torrent," she answered, suddenly recalling who he was. "Come on in."
The ancient SandWing carefully opened the door, allowing Torrent to enter, as he still carried Midnight. He set the dragonet down, and she curiously looked around dingy house. There wasn't much there, not that there was room for Gazelle to have much.
"How many Torrents do you know?" Torrent snorted, carefully watching Midnight as the young dragonet started to walk around the small room. She waddled over towards Gazelle, sniffing the SandWing.
Gazelle smiled as she saw Midnight, and reached out a talon, which Midnight quickly grabbed onto. "Just you, I think. I'm sorry if I seem distant, my memory has been faltering a bit lately. Erosion used to do something to help with it, but her magic is gone now."
Torrent frowned. He'd heard of this, how occasionally the most elderly of dragons could start to lose their memories. He wondered how old Gazelle really was — he knew she'd been with Erosion for a long time, maybe her life had been extended somehow. Was she over a hundred? Maybe more? How many Brightest Nights had she seen?
"Is she yours?" Gazelle asked Torrent, looking over at Midnight.
He nodded.
"You shouldn't have come here," Gazelle tsked. "It's not safe, especially with her."
"I wasn't sure," Torrent responded. "I thought some of the dragons might recall me from two years ago. You sent us a letter, remember? We became local heroes or something? Don't dragons recognize you?"
Gazelle thought for a minute. "I don't know. I don't think so. I'm just another SandWing here." She turned back towards Midnight. "She's cute. She's yours and the NightWing, right? Night-something? How is she doing?"
Torrent went stiff. "She's dead."
Gazelle's eyes opened wide. "Oh," she apologized sunkenly. "My, er, condolences. Is Griffin . . . ?"
"He helped with it," Torrent growled, his voice a rumble of anger.
Gazelle uncomfortably turned back to Midnight, who was cautiously checking out Gazelle's barb.
Torrent remained stiff for a minute, an awkward silence ensuing between the two. He broke it with a sigh. "I have a favor to ask of you."
"Anything," Gazelle answered. "I'm so sorry. You must need all the help you can get."
"I want you to take care of Midnight."
Gazelle froze for a moment, and Midnight pounced at the tip of her tail. Gazelle swiftly swung it out of the way, making sure the young hybrid wouldn't accidentally puncture herself with Gazelle's barb. "Midnight," she whispered. She uncertainly gazed at Torrent. "I-I suppose I can try. Why . . .?"
"I can't protect her. I don't know how to raise a dragonet. And I don't know if she'll be safe around me." Torrent looked down towards Midnight again, a guilty expression on his snout. "Thank you, so much. I'll make sure to visit. I promise I'll repay you somehow."
Torrent looked down into his satchel, and dug through it for a few seconds, before bringing out a small bracelet of glittering white pearls. He placed it in Gazelle's talons, the SandWing taking it unassuredly, her talons shaking.
"It's the last of the jewelry I brought from the Sea Kingdom," Torrent explained. He grimaced, and gave Midnight a quick glance back. "Just please, make sure she never ever uses her powers."
"Powers?" Gazelle asked in surprise. "You mean . . ." she tapped a claw to the scales beneath her horn.
"No," Torrent answered. "She can't read minds. I need to make sure she doesn't lose her soul."
"She's an animus?" Gazelle asked, her scales stiffening slightly. She turned down to the dragonet, playfully weaving around one of Gazelle's back paws. The silly dragonet was suddenly far more intimidating.
Torrent nodded. He reached into his satchel again, and pulled out a small piece of folded parchment paper, a name scrawled on its surface. "Speaking of animuses, Stonemover asked me to give this to you. It's a letter he's been meaning to send for a while. He wanted it sent to the Scorpion Den, to a dragon named Thorn."
Gazelle took it quietly. "Of course. But . . . you're sure?"
Torrent looked away shamefully. "Yes." He looked back at Midnight, then walked over towards the exit of the house, flipping the shawl back over his horns. For a moment, he thought about turning back, giving his daughter a final glance, but decided better of it. "Goodbye," he muttered, as he opened the door.
As Torrent started to leave, Midnight, who was still curiously checking out Gazelle, noticed. The dragonet started to crawl after her father, but was too slow. As the tip of Torrent's tail moved from the entryway, he shut the door behind him, preventing his dragonet from leaving.
Torrent looked out onto the empty night streets of Crosswinds, his dagger dangling from a sheath at his side. It was better this way. Midnight was safe from him, and Crystal, and anyone else who could hurt her. He reached into his scrollcase, and pulled out the map Orca had made, so many years ago.
"What would you think, Orca?" he whispered to the air. "Is this what you wanted?"
He turned his head down to the map, the ink glittering in the moonlight. There were four blotches remaining on it. Agate Mountain — Darkstalker. Jade Mountain — Stonemover. Crosswinds — Midnight. And now, a new one . . .
Torrent let out a roar of anger, and stabbed two claws into the scroll, tearing holes in the waxy paper. He swung his paw through it, ripping two large gashes in the map. Enraged, Torrent grabbed onto the parchment, almost tearing it in two as one of the gashes expanded. He flung it into the distance, but the wind caught ahold of it, blowing it into the house next to Gazelle's. Torrent grabbed his dagger from its sheath, and threw it at where the map was, the steel clattering against the bricks. It wasn't be much use. It would just come back.
"I don't care what you want, Orca!" Torrent roared into the night. "You're dead! You've been dead for ten years! Ten long years!"
Torrent took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. Orca was long gone, and there were no such things as ghosts. She wasn't coming back, but her stupid enchantments could still affect those still living.
Torrent was done. Done with everything. Done with animuses, and eggs, and other dragons. Even if the fourth blotch was in the Sea Kingdom, and his parents had finally had another animus dragonet, Torrent could care less. If the rest of his family got massacred — the rest of the Sea Kingdom even — it wasn't any of his business. He wasn't going back to the Deep Palace. Ever.
Ten years ago, he had told Orca that he wouldn't kill her. And even if Torrent now had a second animus sibling, that still stood. No more dragons would die at his blade.
Fly. Fly. Fly. It was all Griffin could think, as he soared from Jade Mountain, Torrent and Nightreader's egg in his shaking talons. The wind whipped at his feathered ears, threatening to rip the gunks of wax from them. He knew Aurora couldn't be far behind him, but didn't dare turn around. One small delay, and both he and the dragonet could be dead.
Griffin wasn't sure how long he flew, unable to look back in his terror. It felt like hours had passed, as the sky darkened to the colors of midnight. As Griffin soared, the mountains turned into hills and forests, the muscles in his wings shaking as the extra weight of the dragonet exhausted him. When he was finally unsure he could keep flying on any longer, Griffin finally looked behind him. Neither Aurora nor Crystal were anywhere in sight. Had he lost them?
Griffin slowly descended to the ground, careful not to drop the fragile egg. It was shaking gently. Trees and bush covered the area. That was good. He could hide. If Aurora or Crystal caught up to him, they would fly straight past him.
Sticks and twigs poked into Griffin's wings and flesh as he landed in the forest, catching and ripping away feathers. For a moment, Griffin was slightly jealous. Dragons had scales and leathery wings, they never had to deal with their feathers pulling out. He laughed slightly, crickets chirping over him. It was such a small thing compared to what had just happened, but being slightly irritated at Orca for not making him a dragon instead somehow made him feel a little better.
Griffin struggled through the underbrush until he came across a small tree, a little hollow inside. Too small for a dragon, but just the right size for Griffin. Placing the egg down inside, Griffin hurriedly gathered a few fallen branches, placing them up against the hollow to hide it from any dragons who approached. Specifically, Crystal and Aurora, if they came down here. He climbed inside, as the egg shook.
"It's okay," Griffin said quietly, doubting the dragonet inside could understand him. "It's safe. You're safe. No one is going to hurt you here."
As if responding to Griffin's words, the small dark-blue snout of a dragonet shoved itself through the eggshell, cracking it in pieces around it. The head of the dragonet inside seemed to shake and thrash, outside of its control. The egg vibrated, the dragonet struggling to get free.
"Is there something wrong?" Griffin asked, worried. Was this supposed to happen? It seemed like the dragonet had trouble controlling its movements. Suddenly, the dragonet drew its head back in, and slammed it against another side of the egg, cracking a small hole through it. It flailed its limbs around, trying to escape from the egg.
Griffin paused for a moment. Should he help the dragonet? It seemed to be having trouble getting free. Would that just hurt it more? He put two talons on part of the egg, and gently pried a piece off. The dragonet inside seemed to be a dark-blue color, with splotches of a lighter blue around its scales and wings. No gills, but webbing between his claws, and instead of glowscales, he had normal scales that looked slightly flattened. As Griffin looked closer, he noticed that while one of the dragonet's eyes was a dark-purple, the other was a milky white, with no iris or pupil. The hybrid dragonet shook back and forth, some of his muscles tensing up and going limp. He scratched at the wall of the egg.
Griffin gently put his claws around the dragonet, lifting him up. The dragonet's small claws scraped against Griffin, but Griffin didn't care. He held the dragonet against his feathers. "It'll be alright," he whispered as tears dripped from his eyes. "It'll be fine." Griffin wasn't sure of his words. The dragonet continued to violently shake. He didn't seem at all fine, and there was nothing Griffin could do. He wasn't sure if the dragonet would survive until morning. And then Griffin would have killed two dragonets, double the number that Torrent had.
"Ink, that's your name, right?" Griffin asked, holding the spasming dragonet close. That was what he remembered Torrent and Nightreader choosing for this egg. "It'll be alright, Ink. Everything will be alright."
Griffin continued to hold the dragonet with him. He wasn't sure when, but at some time during the night, he started to fall into a light sleep. He awoke to the sound of rustling outside the hollow in the tree.
As Griffin opened an eye, the dragonet was still shaking, though much less than the night before. A thin ray of morning light had fallen into the tree's hollow. Griffin looked outside, unsure what had made the noise, when suddenly, a white snout poked into the tree, Crystal's beady black eyes looking curiously at Griffin and the dragonet.
Griffin yelled in anger, pushing the dragonet off him as he extended his talons. He swiped his talons through the IceWing's snout, drawing a ray of blue blood as she jumped back with a yelp of surprise. "I WON'T LET YOU HURT HIM!" Griffin hissed, ready to lay down his life.
"Three moons, what was that for?" the IceWing yelled back, moving her claws up to her snout and brushing away a trail of blood. Griffin looked at her closely for a minute, and realized that'd he'd been wrong. "Clarity?" he asked in confusion. "What are you . . . ?"
"See, I told you he'd be here!" the familiar voice of Fracture shouted, muffled by the branches in front of the hollow.
"Yes, you did," Clarity growled at her mate, tongue tinged with bitter sarcasm, "I'm glad your powers have been so useful." She turned back to Griffin, then looked over at the struggling Ink on the floor of the hollow. "Queen Glacier banished me from the Ice Kingdom."
"What?" Griffin said, still confused. "Did she find out about the Talons?"
Clarity shook her head. "No. My sister decided to pay me a visit, and apparently had some of Glacier's soldiers following her."
"Crystal," Griffin hissed, seething with rage. His feathers ruffled up. She was behind this too. Maybe that's why she and Aurora had been lying in wait at the Talons meeting Griffin had gone to, instead of Fracture and Clarity.
"Did something happen with her?" Clarity asked.
Griffin gulped, his talons shaking. He didn't want to tell Clarity and Fracture what had happened. What he had done. "She was at the Mausoleum when I went there. They caught me, and her animus daughter enchanted me to follow her commands. They brought me back to Torrent, Nightreader, and Stonemover, and their three eggs. They attacked, and Aurora forced me to . . ."
Griffin trailed off, though Clarity got the message. "She hurt me too," Clarity growled, rage and hurt in her words. "My son, Polar. Queen Glacier took him from me after she met with me, and Crystal intended for it to happen. I don't know why, but she wants to hurt us. The Talons, or maybe me personally. We'll stop her, and even if she's my sister, I'll make sure we both get our revenge."
"Our son," Fracture grumbled unhappily.
Clarity turned to him with a hiss. "This is your fault, you know. Why didn't you know this was going to happen?"
"I just didn't know!" Fracture protested. "It hasn't happened before! It wasn't supposed to happen!"
"I'm starting to agree with Avalanche on how useless you are," Clarity snorted.
Suddenly, Griffin felt small claws hitting against his leg. Ink was spasming again, flailing around. Griffin looked open to the dragonet, his heart racing. "Please," he said, turning to Clarity and Fracture, "you need to help him. He's Torrent's dragonet."
"Is Torrent ali . . . alright?" Clarity asked, quickly changing the word.
"I don't know," Griffin responded. "I barely escaped with my life. It wasn't looking good for him when I left. I doubt it." And even if he was, if he saw Griffin, he might just kill Griffin himself after what Griffin had done to Loresearcher.
"Griffin, can you bring out Ink?" Fracture asked.
Griffin looked down at the flailing dragonet. "Yeah." Griffin hadn't mentioned Ink's name to Fracture, had he? If he knew it already, did that mean he had foreseen this? Griffin frowned. Could he trust Fracture? Still, he picked Ink's shaking body, and brought out the small hybrid dragonet to Fracture, gently setting him on the forest floor.
Clarity looked on in shock as she saw Ink, then looked over towards Fracture. "He's . . ."
Fracture nodded. "I know." The green IceWing lifted his claws up to his head, and lifted his own leather eyepatch off, carefully moving the band behind his horns. Even though it was so big it covered half the dragonet's snout, Fracture placed it over Ink's milky-white eye, wrapping the leather band around thrice so that it wouldn't fall off. Ink instantly calmed, as the shaking stopped. The young dragonet, exhausted, curiously looked around at Griffin and the two IceWings, unsure where he was.
"How did you know that would work?" Griffin asked hesitantly.
Fracture smiled, and opened his scaled left eyelid, the one that the eyepatch had been covering. A milky-white globe, just like Ink's, appeared beneath it, without an iris or pupil. "Ink has been blessed with a gift like mine."
"Blessed?" Griffin asked, skeptical. "By whom?"
Fracture shrugged his forepaws. "I don't know. The Great Ice Dragon, perhaps? The SkyWings' god of rebirth? But whoever gave us these powers, there is something, very, very wrong about this world, and all of us are at the center of it."
"Something wrong about this world," Griffin whispered, repeating Fracture's words. He remembered the stars in Erosion's cavern, the chills of evil he felt when going through Stonemover's tunnels. "Fracture," Griffin spoke, with a frown. "Did you know this was going to happen?"
Griffin looked up to the IceWing hopefully, and Fracture closed his left eye, his gently smile turning into a grim expression. He didn't answer.
"Please tell me," Griffin pleaded, shaking his head back and forth. "Tell me you didn't know what Crystal was going to do. You're my friend, right?"
Fracture averted his eyes, looking down towards Ink. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
Griffin shook his head back and forth, tears in his eyes. "You knew?" he accused Fracture. "You knew the entire time, and you let Crystal kill Nightreader and Loresearcher? You could have warned us, but you didn't? You let them die!"
Clarity turned towards Fracture with a hiss of her anger. The green IceWing backed away slightly with a gulp. "I couldn't warn you!" he protested. "There are powers at play much greater than you can imagine, and if I had tried, no one would have gotten anything good out of it!"
"You asked me to meet you at the Mausoleum," Griffin hissed, "even knowing that Crystal and Aurora were waiting for me. That's why you weren't there."
"Why?" Clarity growled, baring her teeth at her mate as she stepped forwards threateningly. "You told me when we met, that you wanted to use your powers to make a difference in the lives of dragons. To make everyone happier. To make Pyrrhia a better place."
"There was nothing I could have done!" Fracture snapped. "Yes, fine, I knew. But I wasn't allowed to interfere with it. Years ago, I made a deal, and that was part of the conditions. Calamity would have killed us all if I had tried to stop Crystal, and this all would've been for nothing!"
"Calamity?" Griffin growled. "Who is Calamity?"
A chilled wind blew past Crystal and Aurora as the two walked through the now-familiar valley leading to the Mausoleum of Queen Frost, their clawprints in the snow being quickly blown away and covered. The Mausoleum cut through the winds as the two entered the area around it, the seven ancient queens staring down at them from each of their pillars. This place still gave Crystal the chills, even after having lived here for the past ten years.
Everything hadn't gone exactly as planned. Crystal had meant to kill all the dragonets, but had only managed to get one of them. Hopefully Calamity wouldn't mind. She'd generally been quite successful in her missions. Selectively turning a few IceWings to stone in order to delay the Darkstone program had worked quite well, and to make things better, she was now quite infamous in the Ice Kingdom. She would have loved to have seen the look on Queen Glacier's snout after each report.
Still, she felt bad about what she'd done to her sister. Separating her from her dragonet — it was cruel. But Fracture had gotten too bold, and had broken the terms of his agreement. He needed to get the message that he couldn't do that anymore, at least until his inevitable betrayal. Polar would be alright. Crystal had given her nephew the healing diamond she'd enchanted.
Crystal looked back towards her daughter. The IceWing-SeaWing hybrid walked behind her, the iron band around her forearm clanking as she walked. "I'm proud of you," Crystal smiled, a little awkwardly, "you did really well."
Aurora paid no heed to her mother, and remained silent. Crystal knew by now not to take offence. That was just her daughter's way of showing satisfaction. She rarely felt the need to talk more than necessary. If she had emotions about the fight with Torrent, she didn't share them. It was how Crystal and Calamity had trained her.
Crystal turned her eyes to the Darkstone dangling at Aurora's neck. The IceWing grimaced slightly, seeing the hemispherical scarring in Aurora's scales behind the pendant. Something similar had happened on some of the animal test subjects Boreal had used the Darkstone on. Crystal hadn't worn it long enough to get anything like that, but Aurora had had it on it practically the day since she hatched, and it had burned a hole in her neck, killing off all the cells around it. Crystal felt bad, and had protested to Calamity, but there was little she could do. Crystal herself wouldn't have been able to use the Darkstone much more than she'd already had, and it would have killed her if she'd kept wearing it — Calamity had said something about animus blood being needed, and Aurora had gotten that both through her father and the amount Crystal had worn it herself. She also knew that it was more painful than Aurora had let on: the scars on the hybrid's neck were just what could be seen on the exterior. The Darkstone poisoned the flesh, and animus magic poisoned the mind.
Crystal turned around, and walked to the doors of the Mausoleum, covered in ice. She stood still for a moment, preparing herself for what was about to happen. Opening the doors wasn't a particularly enjoyable experience. Still, she tore her claws into her forearm, a small trickle of blue blood running from it. As it ran from Crystal's body, the blood moved magically to the indentations in the doorway, melting the ice. When it was done, the doors were ready to open.
Crystal staggered forwards, woozy, into the Mausoleum, Aurora following behind her. The doors slammed shut, as the two entered the small area. Inside was a crystalline casket, the body of an ancient dragon preserved within. The remains of Queen Frost. Crystal snorted, and blew a quick burst of frostbreath on it. As she took a step back, the floor of the Mausoleum started to open up in front of her, revealing a passageway leading down into the system of caves beneath the Neck.
The two dragons climbed down into the tunnel beneath the floor, a chill rising up Crystal's scales, the cold, damp air of the caves entering her lungs. The tunnel ahead led mostly down, and was so dark Crystal could barely see. Aurora was much better at this, so Crystal stood to the side, her daughter in front of her. The only light source in this part of the caverns were the occasional flashes of Aurora's glowstripes and miniscule specks of light on side of the cave. Tiny pieces of darkstone dust. Crystal grinned. Queen Glacier would kill both her daughters to get her claws on this.
The feeling of magic permeated the air here, giving off an intense feeling of wrongness, like the cavern had just been shoved into Pyrrhia where it never should have been. Crystal wasn't quite sure that was so poorly a way to put it either. This cavern, and those far beneath it, literally shouldn't have been in this world. Here the three dragons who lived inside the cavern were nestled within the clutch of their enemy.
Aurora and Crystal continued down the tunnel for what felt like an indefinite period of time before it started to open up into a wider area. Suddenly, the texture of the walls changed, and a dim blue-white light started to fill the tunnel, allowing Crystal to see clearly again. The walls and floor became covered with an ice-like texture, with rigid spikes of milky-white stone extruding from the caves. Glittering white stone covered every inch of the cave, or as Calamity called it, the Crystal Caverns. Appropriate, given Crystal's name.
Yet even after living here for much of tine years, the place still made her feel strange, although it could have just been the blood loss. It had been ten years, hadn't it? With the animus magic permeating the whole thing, time worked strangely down here. There was this constant feeling that she wasn't supposed to be here, that this was no place for a dragon. This wasn't her home. It couldn't be. For Aurora, on the other claw, she had been hatched here. The Crystal Caverns were where she belonged. Crystal could see her daughter relaxing slightly as she crossed the barrier onto the gleaming white stone, as if the pain of the Darkstone was subsiding.
The two walked further into the caverns, as it grew to the place she had seen in her dreams. The cavern opened up into a great chamber, strikingly similar to the one Erosion had created. A wide crystalline bridge spanned from end to end, above a field of sharp stone and glowing quartz beneath. Above, the dark glint of darkstone specks crowded the ceiling. Crystal and Aurora arrived at one end of the bridge, and looked down its length. At the other end was a hole in the cavern, leading deeper into the Crystal Caverns, where Pyrrhia truly ended. Calamity had warned them of going too far without him. They could get lost, and never find their way back to Pyrrhia above. Or end up far worse.
In the middle of the bridge stood the frozen corpse of a young NightWing. Starweaver. One of the four dragons who'd come down here five thousand years before, only for three to sacrifice their lives in vain. As Crystal and Aurora walked closer to the corpse, a bright light started to emanate from it. The ethereal figure of another dragon started to tear itself away from the corpse, until the floating translucent figure of a MudWing floated a few feet outside of Starweaver, gently bobbing up and down.
"You're back," the ghostly MudWing said, a slight smile on his snout.
Crystal politely bowed her head in respect to Calamity, even knowing he didn't require anything of the sort from her or Aurora.
"We killed the female NightWing and the animus dragonet," Crystal explained, "but we had complications."
Calamity snorted. "There are always complications," he said, "it's what makes life bearable for me." He glanced over at his phantasmal paw and laughed. "Although calling it 'life' and 'bearable' are vast exaggerations. Let me guess — Fracture?"
Crystal nodded. "Unsurprisingly. It turns out he gave Griffin a gift years earlier that allowed him to escape from Aurora with one of the eggs. Not her fault, of course." She glanced back towards Aurora, who remained still as she watched Calamity.
"I know," Calamity smiled. "Fracture's done it before. If it's anyone's fault for something going wrong, it's probably me. Definitely me. And speaking of stuff going wrong, you killed the wrong dragonet." He swished his ghostly tail through the air, wisps of light running off it.
It took a moment for the MudWing's words to set in. "I . . . did?" Crystal asked, confused. "The dragonet Griffin killed wasn't the animus?"
Calamity shook his head. "Nope. That was Loresearcher. Midnight was the animus, and she's still alive."
"I'm so sorry," Crystal apologized with a gulp. "Does that mean . . . ?"
"That you all are doomed?" Calamity chuckled. "Yes, but not any less doomed than usual. Don't worry, there's nothing to apologize for. You don't have to worry, this isn't that unusual. As I said — complications."
"Do you need me to kill her?" Crystal asked. "If you know where she is, I can get rid of her easily. She might be an animus, but she's just a dragonet, right?"
Calamity shook his head. "No. It's too late for that. But we will need to make a few changes in our plans." The MudWing spectre looked deep in thought for a moment. "If Midnight and Ink are the two still alive, it means Pyrrhia gets a bit more time than expected, so we'll have to give the SkyWings a bit of extra help. Anyways, it's fine. Loresearcher would have caused a lot of trouble for everyone had he lived."
Calamity turned to Aurora, and made a swimming motion, floating through the air towards her. Only his right eye seemed to move as he turned. "I believe it's around time for us to make our move on Pyrrhia. Aurora, Crystal. There's two more dragons I need you to kill for me, but it might be a little more difficult than your last mission."
"Just tell us who, and we'll do it gladly," Crystal spoke. She bowed her head, and looked towards the ground shamefully. She'd failed. Killed the wrong dragonet. It was fortunate that it wasn't too big of a mistake, else all of Pyrrhia could have been doomed. She couldn't fail this time.
"There's a SkyWing queen I need you to kill for me, five years from now outside of the Caverns," Calamity told Aurora. "A few dragons with animus magic are going to interfere a bit too much for my liking. Torrent has been quite useful to me, but he unfortunately left a couple of gaps in his work. You can keep the animuses themselves alive since they'll be convenient to have around later, but I need the queen dead. I also need an enchanted item from her treasury. Something that's been there for quite a while, biding its time as I've used it from here."
Aurora nodded firmly.
"And me?" Crystal asked eagerly, wanting to make up for her recent failure. "Do you want me to go with her?"
Calamity shook his head. "No. Your target needs to be killed two years after hers. Not that time matters much here. In your case, I need you to take a piece of the SandWing queen's treasure too, then kill her. In that order. I have a few special instructions for you."
Crystal laughed. "What are you trying to do, start another War of SandWing Succession? Playing Queenmaker here?"
Calamity grinned, gleaming phantasmal teeth showing in his jaws. A bright light flashed across the glassy surface of his left eye. Real, unlike the rest of his body. The MudWing chuckled. "Something like that."
Rain poured down from the sky, flooding the valleys between the mountainous expanse. Thunder crackled as what felt like one of the worst storms in years passed through the Sky Kingdom. A flash of lightning momentarily lit up the bodies of two SkyWings, resting in front of the doors leading into the SkyWing treasury.
Aurora's first solo mission had been far easier than she had expected. With most of the SkyWings in the area fervently watching the fight on top of the of keep, the treasury was practically unguarded. Not that Queen Ruby cared too much for treasure.
Aurora stepped out from the doors, into the heavy rain as it hit against her sky-blue scales. The item Calamity had wanted was in her right forepaw. She looked down at it curiously as the blood of the two SkyWings started to run over Aurora's claws, mixing with the puddles of water pouring down from above. Two golden chains dangled between Aurora's talons, leading to a small smooth stone of polished amethyst, the color bright purple. Two small golden plates bent in the shape of dragon wings extended from each side of the stone. It was dusty, as if no one had touched it in decades, maybe even longer. The Eye of Amethyst, as Calamity had called it.
Aurora spread her wings, and took off in a burst from the entrance of the treasury, into the brunt of the storm. Winds whipped against her neck and wings, the Darkstone being thrown back and forth from her neck. She clutched her prize tightly in her talons. She had one more task to do before she could return to the Crystal Caverns, making the week-and-a-half journey back. Then, Calamity would move the time inside it forward, and it would be her mother's turn.
Aurora landed on a small ledge opposite the the roof of the SkyWing's keep, nestled beneath the peak of the mountain above. She had a direct line of sight to the dragons across the large gap between her and the plateau of the peak, but the SkyWings there were far too busy watching the challenge between Tourmaline and her mother to notice Aurora in the roaring rainstorm. The sky lit up as a burst of lightning struck nearby, sending a booming thundercrash towards the dragons.
Aurora looked down at the Eye of Amethyst, still nestled tightly in her talons. She took another one of her claws up to the scar on her neck, and winced as an aching pain jolted through her body. She brought it back down to the chain holding the Eye, and opened it up, stretching the golden chain around her horns. The Eye of Amethyst dropped from her talons, and swung from her neck, the golden chain just slightly longer than the Darkstone's silver one. A small tingle of power and energy brushed against Aurora, her expression unfearful. Calamity had told her there was nothing to worry about, so she didn't need to worry.
As the tingle subsided, Aurora glanced towards the two dragons fighting beneath, eyeing the fight closely. She saw Queen Scarlet roar out in anger, tipping Tourmaline onto her backside. Scarlet leaped on top of her daughter, attempting to tear her talons into Tourmaline's face, but Tourmaline had different ideas. With her front claws, Tourmaline held her mother away from her snout, as Scarlet ruthlessly tore at Tourmaline's forelegs. As she did this, Tourmaline started to use her back talons to rip at Scarlet's exposed underbelly, ripping through scales and flesh as Scarlet's blood poured down onto Tourmaline, fusing with Tourmaline's blood in the puddles of water beneath the two.
Scarlet screamed in pain, and with a burst of energy from Tourmaline, slipped off her daughter as she stepped onto a blood-soaked rock. Scarlet fell on her backside, trying to use her huge wings to break her fall. Immediately, Tourmaline leaped from her paws, onto her mother's exposed belly. She tore her talons into Scarlet's neck and chest, her mother screeching in pain.
"You shouldn't have come back, Mother," Tourmaline hissed, spitting onto her mother's snout, the saliva fusing with droplets of water as it ran down the black venom scars on the side of Scarlet's snout. As the exhausted Scarlet struggled futilely, Tourmaline raised her head up in pride. The crowd around her fell silent. Aurora mumbled a few words under her breath, clutching the Eye.
Tourmaline's talons clenched around her mother's neck as she yelled into the crowd, "FOR THE SKYWI—" Suddenly, a blinding burst of light shot down from the sky, Tourmaline's words were cut short as an arc of lightning sailed through Tourmaline's head and tail, into the ground below. The sizzling smell of burnt dragon flesh filled the mountaintop. Aurora gritted her teeth and held her claws out in front of her to prevent herself from falling off the narrow ledge as pain shot from her neck through each one of her nerves, her paws shaking and her vision running blurry.
There was a moment of silence as Tourmaline's charred body fell to the side of her shocked mother. Queen Scarlet was still for a moment, unsure what exactly had happened, before she stood up, blood pouring from her wounds. She snorted, and looked down towards her daughter's corpse. With a quick shove, Scarlet pushed Tourmaline from the edge of the peak, and Tourmaline's body fell into the valley below. As she hit the sound, a crack echoed up from beneath.
The crowd erupted into chaos. Some of the many SkyWings who had supported Queen Ruby during her short reign flew from the mountain, knowing it could mean execution if they remained. Aurora gaze caught on two SkyWings in the group of fleeing dragons, one a tiny dragonet, the other with steam emanating from her scales, a SeaWing quickly trailing behind them.
Aurora turned her heavy gaze towards Scarlet, the SkyWing queen still unsure exactly had happened. As she looked around, Queen Scarlet's eyes turned towards Aurora, her odd sky-blue scales easily recognizable. Aurora locked eye-contact with the newly remade queen silently, before she spread open her wings, rain pummeling down on her leather membranes. With a leap from the cliff, wind picked up beneath Aurora as she sailed towards the west, leaving the mountaintop behind her.
From behind her, the sound of a SkyWing crying, "Long live Queen Scarlet!" reached Aurora, the chant being quickly uptaken by more SkyWings nearby. "Long live Queen Scarlet! Long live Queen Scarlet!"
Aurora didn't bother to look back. She had done what she'd come here for, and the swinging golden chain of the Eye of Amethyst now hung from her neck, the Darkstone beside it. The SkyWings didn't know it, but they had been part of something far greater than any of them. It was time for a few changes to be made to Pyrrhia.
To be continued in Stone Cold... (Details TBA)