Okay, now with the actual first chapter. Kind of mad that I did all that work on the prologue to keep the tabs and they don't even show up. But I guess it's also funny.

Here, we get to meet all our lovely Dragonets of Fate in a horribly repetitive manner. Yay...

Cyclone was angry. Again.

Every day was the same way. They wake up, stretch, have breakfast, then go to Combat class, then Strategy, Swimming, Flying, then lunch, Survival, Navigation, Nutrition, Scrolls, then their individual Tribes class. Though they all learn about the different dragon tribes in Strategy and Scrolls, Tribes Class was more about how to be that tribe. After that, it's dinner, and then they sleep, only to start it all over again. At least the lessons were different each day. And it wouldn't last forever. They had to save the world once they were ten years old, and they were allowed outside of the caves one month before that. But each day felt like a week with the training.

And why did they have to go through all of this torture?

Apparently, because they were all special. Prophesied by some Voidwing named Wormhole to end the war once it had "raged for twenty years". As of now, it had been for nineteen.

"Feint left! Roll right! Attack the underbelly!" His attacker howled. Cyclone obeyed, pretending to attack her left arm, then suddenly rolling to the right. Before she could react, he slid under her and raked his claws across her underbelly, drawing blood. Yes! Cyclone swiveled around to face the other Skywing.

Kestrel roared and sent her tail flying in his direction. Cyclone leapt into the air and spread his wings, keeping his eyes on his opponent. He felt the air move under him, meaning he dodged her tail. He flapped as hard as he could and tilted his tail to the left, sending him flying toward the right side of Kestrel's neck. He opened his jaws wide, ready to bite down. She turned her head toward his and opened her own. Frantically, Cyclone tilted his tail upward, sending him upright and hurtling toward her. Go for the neck, it'll end the fight faster than twirling onto her back. And fast is what I need right now. Cyclone thought quickly, flexing his muscles as he reacted to Kestrel's teeth rocketing towards him. He stretched out his claws, and they met Kestrel's hard scales. He dragged his claws downward, and kicked her neck, sending him back into a hovering position. "Did I win?" He asked, flapping in front of her.

"Yes. I will mark another success in your scroll for this class." She winced as she walked off to the Survival cave, which was often used to treat injuries.

The Combat Cave was dotted with stony obstacles and places where one could get an advantage. Vine lichen grew on the rocks and walls in some places, which meant his claws could get caught pretty easily, slick moss grew on other places, making it hard to push off of or climb, and some had convenient little claw holds so you could climb onto a stalactite and stay there. The river cut through the center of the room, splitting it into two. The whole place was designed to be a battleground.

The nine other Dragonets came to congratulate him as soon as he descended to the ground. "C'mon, stop." His protest was ignored, evidenced by blue scales rubbing against his yellow ones. "Really, guys. I win, like, every time."

Cyclone's personality had been described as firm, and he was attentive. The others complained that he was too aggressive and impulsive, though. His combat style was fast, relentless, and deadly, but his blows weren't heavy, so he had to go for weak spots. If he didn't, the fight took longer. As an offense-based style, deflection replaced blocking.

"Give him some room." Winter said, her face expressionless as always. "He wins almost every day, so I fail to see the reason to celebrate." Her rare, melancholy voice saved Cyclone from more hugs. Though he could tell she was happy for him too.

Winter was very clever and cunning, but she was a bit cruel, cold, and isolated at times. Her combat style involved calculated deadly blows to weak and painful points, then darting just out of reach to ready another slash. She would hit specific areas in order to disable her opponent. As an offense-based style, deflection replaced blocking. She was the one who discovered a weak point several inches from the tip of the tail was that all dragons had, no matter the tribe.

Umbra sighed. "I don't."

Umbra was precise and calm, but she was too timid and shy and she was the ultimate pessimist – always depressed about something. She kept to herself most of the time, but she was actually very friendly with Candor. Her combat style involved dodging until she has completely analyzed her foe's strategy, usually by that time her opponent is enraged or at least frustrated, her fighting is mostly long ranged and airborne, hit-and-run if she has to use melee. As a defense-based style, blocking replaced deflection.

Candor put a wing around her. "C'mon, lighten up." His tail swished. "But not too much. Then you'll be like Flare."

Candor was very level and calm, indecisive, but unattached and indifferent – he was only caring if the problem was extreme. He rarely ever lied, but if he really needed to he would – still he wouldn't like it. His combat style was pretty fast, lashing out continuously and parrying attacks until he is injured or his opponent switches tactics, at which point he will dart away for a moment and attack somewhere else. As an offense-based style, deflection replaced blocking.

"Hey!" Flare protested, her red scales glinting.

Flare was very sweet, optimistic, faithful, and trusting, but she was a bit annoying and childish – and very naive. Her combat style involved evasion, slipping out of holds, pressure and puncture points, and quick, painless blows to death – or knockout – areas. She could get out of holds so easily because her limbs could bend in unusual ways. She was very flexible and agile. As an offense-based style, deflection replaced blocking.

The Dragonets backed off, and Cyclone stole a glance toward the hallway that Kestrel had gone down. "We should be going to our next—hey!" Cyclone yelped as he felt several stabs of pain in his right leg. Angry, he whirled around and glared at Flare. "You clawed my leg!" Cyclone growled.

She looked at him indignantly. "I didn't claw it, I was catching my fall!" The Heatwing swiveled her head toward the Lifewing Dragonet. "Flora pushed me!"

Flora just stood there, faking an aloof expression and trying not to laugh. Flora was tenacious, calm, and sensible, but she was also very sarcastic, irritable, and troublesome. She utilized distraction when she fought, and often she would change colors to try to confuse her opponent. She would loop around them, using the environment or even the opponent themselves to keep moving. As a defense-based style, blocking replaced deflection.

Ray laughed. "This is hilarious." He flared his wings.

Ray was very bold and very overconfident. He was sarcastic, cynical, impulsive, and energetic. He was easily irritated, but he never showed it; he was almost always externally calm and almost smirking. He kept insisting that out of all the Dragonets of Fate, he was "the cool one". His combat style involved taunting – not always verbally – his opponent into becoming angry and reckless, taking advantage of that. When that doesn't work, he feints and jabs at half capacity, and when his opponent is weakened, he pushes himself into overdrive and doesn't like to stop offense for defense. As an offense-based style, deflection replaced blocking.

Tsunami walked over and punched Cyclone with her wing. "Oh, go jump in the river." She said to Cyclone.

Tsunami was sort of their leader – most of the time. She was a great one and she could be very convincing and diplomatic when her grumpy side wasn't showing. She always wanted everything her way and nothing else would do. She was very bossy and stubborn. Only Ray was braver than her, except Cyclone – of course. Tsunami fought a lot like Cyclone, but she was slower, delivered more damaging blows, and her attacks were heavier. As a defense-based style, blocking replaced deflection.

"He's not going to get in." Anion pointed out matter-of-factly, his starry black wings were curled close to his body. "Skywings don't like cold water."

Anion was very intelligent, but he was about as brave as a sparrow and prepared and worried and prepared for everything. He was always anxious and doubting every move he or any of the Dragonets made. His combat style involved interpretation, dodging everything, and delivering painful blows to weak points. Similar to Winter's – but less aggressive and brave. As a defense-based style, blocking replaced deflection.

Tsunami came over and began dragging Cyclone toward the river, to which he protested on with a series of growls and snarls. He only got frustrated growls and stubborn grunts back.

"Oh, please don't do that." Clay leaned, reaching for Cyclone, but hesitated, drawing his claws back an inch.

Clay was kind and protecting, but he was too much of a pacifist. His combat style involved blunt force: body-slams, punches with his palms, tail-swipes, and the occasional claw in a weak spot. As a defense-based style, blocking replaced deflection.

Ten dragonets, five male and five female. Due to their similar personalities, each of them were split into groups of two that worked best and got along with each other: Cyclone and Tsunami, Clay and Flare, Candor and Umbra, Ray and Flora, Anion and Winter. These were what the Dragonets referred to as their "pairs" and "partners" that spent the most time with each other. They were told that if they ever needed to separate, in every sense of the word, they should stay in those pairs as best as they could. In these groups, one dragon complimented the other; one was defense-based, and the other was offense-based, one was male, the other was female, and both had similar combat styles.

"Jump in the river" was his partner's solution for everything. Bored? Aching bones? Dry scales? Brain overstuffed with the history of the War? "Jump in the river!" She'd shout when any of the other Dragonets complained. She certainly did not care that she was the only one who could breathe underwater or that some dragon tribes dislike getting wet.

Cyclone was one of them. He didn't hate water as much as Flare did, but he didn't really like it.

"Get in." Tsunami ordered. She seized his tail between her front talons and started dragging him toward the river that way. "You'll feel better."

"I will not!" Cyclone shouted, clawing at the smooth stone floor. "I'll feel colder! Stop it! Go away! Argh!" His protests went up in a cloud of bubbles as Tsunami dumped him in the icy water.

He leapt out of the water at Tsunami with a snarl. Midair, he grabbed her by her shoulders and somersaulted so that he was on the ground and carrying her. He then kicked her away and she landed in the water.

When Cyclone rolled back upright, Tsunami was floating in the river, ducking her head and splashing water over her scales like a beautiful overgrown fish.

"Kestrel will be sorry for being so mean one day, when I'm queen of the Seawings." Tsunami said, swimming up and down the narrow channel.

"I thought only the King and Queen's daughters, sons, or siblings could challenge her for her throne." Anion said with his right pointer claw in the air. Cyclone watched his partner cut through the water like a shark. Tsunami swam so fast.

"Well, maybe the Seawing queen is my mother and I'm a lost princess," she said. "Like in the story."

Everything the Dragonets knew about the outside world came from scrolls picked up by the Talons of Peace. Their favorite was The Missing Princess, a legend about a runaway Seawing dragonet whose royal family tore up the whole ocean looking for her. At the end she found her way home, and her parents welcomed her with open wings and feasting and joy.

Cyclone's favorite parts were the fighting scenes. If he was going to be reading, then he should at least read about that sort of thing.

"I wonder what my parents are like." Clay thought aloud.

"I wonder if any of our parents are still alive." Umbra growled. Candor extended his wing to her, and she leaned on his side. Candor's wing closed around her and pulled her closer.

Cyclone didn't enjoy thinking about that. He knew dragons were dying in the war every day; Kestrel and Webs brought back news of bloody battles, scorched land, and burning piles of dragon bodies. But he had to believe his parents were still safe. "Do you think they ever miss us?"

"Definitely." Tsunami flicked a spray of water at him with her tail. "I bet mine were frantic when Webs stole my egg. Just like in the story."

"And mine tore apart the mountains." Cyclone said wistfully. They'd all imagined scenes of their parents' desperate searches ever since they were young dragonets. Cyclone liked the idea that someone out there was looking for him . . . that someone missed him and wanted him back.

Tsunami flipped onto her back, gazing up at the stone roof with her deep blue eyes. "Well, the Talons of Peace knew what they were doing." She said bitterly. "No one would ever find us down here." Cyclone took a step closer to her.

They all sighed and listened to the river gurgle and the torches crackle for a moment.

"We won't be underground forever." Clay said, trying to make them feel better. "I mean, if the Talons of Peace want us to stop this war, they have to let us out sometime." He scratched behind his ear thoughtfully. "Anion says it's only nine more months because they said they'd let us out a month before the twentieth year." They only had to hold on that long. "And then we can go home and eat as many cows as we want."

"Well, first we save the world." Flora said. "And then we go home."

"Somehow." Ray added, staring at the rocky ceiling.

"Right." Said Cyclone. How they were going to save the world was a little fuzzy, but everyone seemed to think they'd figure it out when the time came.

"Unless . . ." Tsunami said.

Clay lowered his head to look at her. "Unless what?"

"Unless we leave sooner." She said. She flipped over and pulled herself out of the water in one graceful motion.

Cyclone and Tsunami exchanged a knowing look.

"Leave?" Clay echoed. "How? On our own?" Cyclone nodded at his baffled expression.

"Why not?" She said. "If we can find a way out – why should we have to wait until the Guardians say we can leave? I'm ready to save the world now, aren't you?"

Cyclone knew he was, but he didn't know about the others, so he remained silent.

"I am." Flare blurted. "It's our destiny, so we can't fail."

"And the Guardians still think we somehow know how we're going to save the world." Flora pointed out. "If we leave on our own, most of them won't question us."

"Especially Paradise, Asha, and Glint." Cyclone realized.

"I'm fine with it either way." Candor said. "The pros and cons of both are about equal."

Winter's tail whipped. "I agree."

"But we're not ready yet!" Anion exclaimed. "There's so much we don't know!"

"We can't stop the war on our own." Umbra said, her wings drooping. "We wouldn't know where to start."

"Head for neutral territory." Flora suggested.

Ray threw his head back. "That is, if we aren't killed on the way to The Agate Forest or the even farther Emerald Jungle." He paused.

Flora laughed at her mistake. "And we won't find anyone in the abandoned Voidwing land." She added.

"I think we should go." Cyclone added with a shrug of his wings.

Tsunami flapped her wings at everyone in exasperation, showering Cyclone with cold water droplets. "We can stop the war on our own." She said. "That's the whole point of The Prophecy."

"Maybe later." Anion whimpered.

"Maybe sooner." Tsunami said stubbornly. "Just think about it, all right? You're good at that."

He shifted his feet with a frown. "All right. I'll think about it."

"DRAGONETS!" Dune bellowed from the Strategy cave. His voice echoed along the long, narrow hallways. Time for their next class. Cyclone bolted toward the direction of the Heatwing's angry voice.

What if he could go to the mountains now instead of waiting? To a whole tribe of Skywings who looked like him and thought like him . . . back to his parents, whoever they were . . .

What if they could do it?

What if the ten Dragonets of Fate could escape, and survive, and save the world . . . their own way?

I hope it's alright that I keep the wording in a few places. It was just so good I couldn't drop it.

Gosh, this is so bad. Hopefully you readers have seen worse.

Thanks for reading!