The Star Below The Moons

__TOC__
== Author's note: ==
Wip
Still needs to be edited for italics
Even if you are a mod, DO NOT EDIT
Please TELL ME IF YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING
I lost at least half my text because one of the mods edited my fanfic while I was making everything italic
NOW I HAVE TO GO BACK AND REDO ALL THE ITALICS BECAUSE YOU EDITED IT!!!!!
I will add the categories!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*my vent is over*
== Actual Author's Note: ==
This story is not for the faint-hearted. It includes ideas of and/or the actual action of death, trauma, self harm, homophobia, pronoun-phobia (if that's even a thing), and lots, and lots of death, violence, gore, and fear. Maybe in the first few chapters you won't be greeted with such somber things, as these are the first years of dragonethood of three dragonets, Jinx, Pastelle, and Jester (informally known as Jack). These chapters include vivid descriptions of things that are unrealistic, way too much thinking, vivid descriptions of surroundings, emotions, ideologies, and might provoke feelings of when you were a child.
Cuisine, because why not. These cuisines for my AU are based on the world irl:
HiveWings:	They definitely export honey, maybe some Indian-chinese-influenced meals that are more modernized? 
IceWings:	Ice Cream; Alaskan, Russian, Irish, British cuisine
LeafWings:	Maple Syrup; Canadian cuisine; 
MudWings:	idk
NightWings:	Indian; Indian-chinese; Iranian. Why, you ask? Because why not
RainWings:	Thai foods with pineapple; bubble tea; south american, mexican cuisine, sushi. I definitely threw all my favorite foods at them, because the rainforest is my absolute favorite environment.
SandWings:	Arabian, Iranian cuisine; South African cuisine
SeaWings:	Sushi, seafood, fish n’ chips
SilkWings:	Chinese; Japanese Ramen; French desserts
SkyWings:	Italian cuisine; really spicy foods
This story touches on sensitive topics, such as the unfair workplace, homophobia, xenophobia, and that pronoun-phobia that I do not know the name of. Can three dragonets craft a fair world? We'll find out...
== PART ONE: JINXES AND JOKERS ==
== CHAPTER ONE: ==
Jinx, Age 1
♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥
What was it that I was searching for?
    Jinx’s talon reached out unsteadily above the wooden floors, and she was being quite clumsy, like a woozy elephant. Maybe she was a woozy elephant. Woozy. What a wonderful word. 
    Jinx wasn’t quite sure where she was going; familiar halls and platforms spanned all around her, like memories branching in and out like fishing lines. Or fishing nets. Or spiders’ webs. Maybe all of them. She felt like she wasn’t quite conscious, or in the moment. Was her mind just listing things?
    She felt the unsteady sensation of someone creeping up on her. Whose feelings were those? Were they Hex’s, or mummy’s, or Fortune’s? It wasn’t daddy, that was for sure; he was angry all the time, so grouchy-slouchy and crazy. He was like a big dragonet, that’s what mummy said when Jinx hid under the table nibbling on a cookie. She hadn’t understood it at first, but she saw grandma nodding, and then heard her say a few things that she hadn’t quite understood, either. She didn’t understand much, and she didn’t understand why; she should be able to understand everything!
    Quite unfair, thought Jinx, skipping along to her room, which was carved into the side of a mountain with a wooden balcony wrapped around it, open to the rainforest, and covered with a colourful woven tarp that matched the overall theme of her room and swished in the breeze (her mind had registered that, apparently, and not the words she needed to know). Why can’t I understand things the adults can?
    Her frustration grew within the span of two minutes when she heard one of their RainWing servants gossiping about something inane. Why can’t I understand that? Even if they’re just talking about their brother being ill or their sister finding a sloth, I want to know. Her thoughts paused for a second, a break from all the thinking she did. How do I know those things? Maybe my understanding is finally coming!
    She ran happily into her room, giggling. Finally, after a year of not understanding anything, she could understand something! She skipped forward, eyes closed, only seeing the woosh of lights pass her eyelids, which hid most things but not passing lights. It was quite bright under there. 
    She felt her snout bump into something. It was all scaly and wriggly, like a snake, but also warm and jittery, like a leopard. She giggled like a little dragonet would, then opened her eyes. 
    She giggled more; it was Petunia, one of their RainWing servants, who offered her a mauve-coloured smile and kind aqua eyes. “Why, hello there, little one.” Her voice was soft and squishy, like marshmallows, but still deep, like the wide trunks of mahogany trees. 
    “Why, hello there, big one!” chirped Jinx back, leaping up from her talons to reach the big dragon. She didn’t quite know much about the word big, except that it seemed to be a bit bossy and galumphing and that it signified that something was a big larger in comparison to something else, the way you could compare the average toad with the vast expanse of blue known as the sky. 
    “Let’s get you where you need to go,” said Petunia calmly, taking one of Jinx’s tiny claws in hers, which, to Jinx, felt a bit sparkly, like periwinkle. “Now, which way were you going, Princess?”
    Jinx giggled. Princess was a funny word.
    “To your royal suite?” asked Petunia kindly. “I think your royal suite would be perfect, Princess.”
“If I’m a Princess, does that mean mummy and daddy are the Queen and King?”
“Yes, it does. And when you get big, you’ll become the Queen, and your little dragonets will become Princesses and Princes.”
“Wow!” squealed Jinx. She was a royal princess! Did that mean she led a tribe like the Queens did? “That’s amazing! Does that mean you’re my royal advisor?”
“Why yes, Princess,” said Petunia lovingly. It seemed like she was trying very hard not to hug her, because of something Jinx didn’t understand yet. She wished she could understand why Petunia wasn’t allowed to hug her, but at least Petunia was being nice, and that was good. She was like a tiny fluffy kitten, without the curiosity, and with more of, like, the maturity of an owl. 
Maturity. Jinx tried to wrap her head around that word. It was quite impossible to wrap one’s head around something; heads were solid items, like blocks of cement, not long and stretchy like bubble gum. It would be much easier to wrap one’s wings around something; they were stretchy like bubble gum. 
The wings of wisdom beat the claws of war, Jinx remembered reading once. She remembered puzzling over the words for a bit, then giggling gleefully when Petunia told her she got them right. Petunia was a good teacher. Jinx somehow learned from her that two plus two equals four and that four divided by two equals two. Jinx knew those weren’t opposites; adding and subtracting were opposites and multiplying and dividing were opposites, so, even though all the numbers and outcomes were the same, the operations were most certainly not. She’d figured that out all by herself. 
She flicked her wings as she followed Petunia. Her wings must be the smartest wings in all of Pyrrhia if they were the wings of wisdom. Except… she looked down at her claws. If her claws were the claws of war, and she used those very same claws to draw and paint and write down her songs, did that mean one of her art pieces would start a war? Did that mean that covering her art pieces with her wings every time she finished them would make her art pieces safe from starting wars? She hoped so; that was what she was going to do from now on. 
“Here we are, Madam,” said Petunia, at last in the room where Jinx slept each night and awoke each morning. “Now I must leave the royal suite at once. You can do your studies here without me, for I have business to attend to.” She paused before leaving the room. “Remember, read page 102 of the science manual, and complete the worksheet before I come back. I trust you’ll do it?”
“Yes, ma’am!” squeaked Jinx at once. She flapped her wings to push herself up, traipsing to her light oak wood desk, opposite her minimalistic-style bed with a white oak base, purple and aquamarine blankets with gold accents, and matching pillows. Over her bed was a matching dreamcatcher, with ornate lanterns placed on the shelf from which the dreamcatcher hung. A canopy of the finest silk hung over her bed (to ensure that no mosquitoes could harm her at night), with gemstones hanging off them. A similarly-styled bench-seat stood in front, under which was a few extra blankets and pillows. A bay window seat with the same style was placed in the bay-window cove next to that, each metal pole gold, and the walls were painted beige, set up with abstract-painted artworks with gold frames, and plants in gold pots stood all around the room, some propped up on shelves. Next to her desk was a bookshelf filled to the brim with books, some for her studies, some personal books written by her (somehow her brain’s vocabulary actually worked on paper), some fiction or nonfiction or fantasy or mystery or horror, all for her to pore over until her bedside flamesilk electric lamp turned off automatically (her grandmother had set it up to turn off an hour before midnight; she didn’t want Jinx to be all drowsy in the morning, to which Jinx was much opposed. She was a little bit thankful, though, so she sheepishly followed those rules set up by her grandmother). On her desk, pencil cases and books and fragments of silk and markers and paints were set up meticulously, which Jinx had somehow learned to pack away. Nex to her desk was her guitar, painted in shades of purple, aquamarine, and gold, and her similarly styled violin, piano, small drum kit (which her father didn’t want her to have, but she got it anyway), and microphone. She was a singer, after all, but she didn’t use it much. In the future, said her grandmother, I know you’ll need it. 
Jinx liked her room; it was ever so sparkly and awesome, and was exactly like the room she’d always dreamed of having. Well, before the move to her grandmother’s place; her mother said it was much better than the dusty old cottage in their old city, where Jinx nearly died a couple times. The Scorpion Den, she remembered, sitting down at her desk and tracing circles with one claw. The name had always sounded so familiar to her; like another grain of sand on the breach, another leaf in the rainforest. But when she’d read a book on Scorpions, they seemed like creepy creatures. Did that mean her old home was creepy Scorpion land? Did that mean she was a creepy Scorpion? One thing was for sure; she was glad she didn’t live there anymore. 
Her sparkling aquamarine eyes with black scleras scanned over the table. What was she supposed to be doing? Right, studying. She opened her science book to page 102, and read:
Imperial, Perception, and Oracle
Imperial, Perception, and Oracle are known as the three moons of the planet, which consists of Pyrrhia, and Pantala. 
Gosh, this was boring. She decided to skip ahead to the section where she actually had to do work. She’d see what she had to do and read if she needed to. By skimming and scanning the text for relevant information. It was something she learned to save time and work on her more important ventures. 
All it told her was that she had to draw the three moons around a planet. What was this nonsense? Work should make dragons think, not just let them sketch things. But she wasn’t about to argue; it gave her time to do the things she actually wanted to do. 
“Imperial,” she whispered, sketching a five-pointed star on her wrist. “Perception, Oracle.” She drew three circles around it, representing each of the moons.
Her head suddenly swung around; she heard something shatter, and she gasped softly. There was… a hole in her wall.
It seemed like a dragon had taken their claws and gouged out a large chunk of her wall, but cleanly, as if they’d been very careful. The plastered brick walls seemed like they were broken perfectly and sanded down, and the wood supports seemed like no dragon could get splinters from it, as if reality was glitching, somehow. The stone beyond was completely cut inward. 
Am I going crazy? wondered Jinx. She was almost always going crazy, but this was different. This was something she very truly did not understand, and she thought even the most understanding adult dragons didn’t understand this phenomenon.  
She crept over to the hole self-consciously, as if she was unsure if a dragon would just pop out of there and start doing the tango, or something. She looked down at the mark she’d sketched on her wrist. Was it because of the mark that the wall broke seamlessly? 
Maybe these claws are the claws of war, she remembered suddenly, and maybe covering the drawing with my wings will fix things. She paused. Whatever it is, I can’t let mummy and daddy know there’s a hole in my wall. They’d be furious. 
She tried covering the drawing with her wings, but that did nothing, except for maybe making her fall forward and knocking her off balance. Alright, then, what would she do about this? She snorted a spurt of blue flames, which just touched the markings. 
What? Wide-eyed and shocked, Jinx looked at where the hole had been. Was it just her, or had it gotten a little smaller. She crept over to it and poked a talon in. It was definitely there, and it had definitely gotten smaller. She breathed a little more fire on her wrist. Now the hole was more like a shelf. She fluttered over to her desk and got out some paint that matched the peach-beige of her walls. Perfect. She went back to the hole and proceeded to paint it. 
It will be the perfect hiding place for my stuff, she thought gleefully. But how would she cover it? She wrinkled her nose. Wait, didn’t she have that marble aquamarine-purple-sparkly-gold painting-thingy she had yet to put up? She waddled over to her desk again, put her paints away, and took out her crystal painting. It was the right size, and it would fit in one of her gold frames. She knew how to insert a nail, so she could move the painting when she needed to get her secret items. 
Yes, she thought to herself. She nailed a nail into the wall above it, put the painting into its frame, and hung it up. She then traipsed back to her work, humming to herself. 
Not once did she wonder how her drawing had done that.
Not once did she worry about why her drawing had done that.
Not once did she realize that that was definitely not normal. 
Not once did she realize that this was her end.
“The end,” read mummy aloud, closing her book softly. Jinx was all snuggled into her bed, curling her arms around her stuffed sloth plushie, her head sinking into her velvety-soft pillows. Her mother kissed her on her forehead.
“Another story!” demanded Jinx. “Please?”
“Not today,” her mother told her, touching a talon to the dragonet’s snout. “You need rest. It’s a big day tomorrow.”
“Why?” chirped the dragonet, although she already knew the answer to that. 
“Because you’re going to visit your grandpa tomorrow,” said her mother kindly, which really wasn’t very awesome, because that only meant one thing…
“I’M NOT GOING TO THE SCORPION DEN!” shouted Jinx. She put her talons over her ears. “NO NO NO NO NO NOPEDY-NOPE! GRANDPA’S VERY ANNOYING! WHY DO YOU THINK GRANDMA LEFT HIM!?”
Mummy winced; or at least, that’s what Jinx thought she was doing. Jinx didn’t know; she didn’t understand much, as previously illustrated in the words you are currently reading. 
“Jinx, don’t worry so much,” said mummy, adjusting her blanket. “You’ll go with Fortune. You’ll have fun. You can go shopping?”
Jinx grumbled, shifting over to one side. Just because her mother liked shopping didn’t mean she did. She suddenly perked up. “Fortune’s going?” 
“Of course, little bug,” said her mother, bonking her snout with one claw. “Hex will be there too. No fighting with him!” 
“What makes you think we’ll fight?” Jinx asked, attempting earnestness to trick her mother.
“Oh, I don’t know, Jinx,” her mother said. “Maybe it’s that everywhere you go you fight.” Jinx felt the soft tickle of her mother’s goodnight-kiss touch her forehead, and then she was gone, like a ghost that came out every Halloween and then vanished without a trace. But, Jinx reasoned, unlike a ghost, her mother was still there. “Good night!” she could hear her call, before turning off the light shining above her. 
She rolled over. Thin whispers of moonlight trickled through her window, bathing her in an eerie glow. She hugged her sloth toy tighter, feeling its fur tickle her snout. She wasn’t scared, was she? No. She snuggled into her pillow. She should just fall asleep and she’d be all better by morning. 
She shut her eyes and sleep came for her in an instant.
Mommy? 
Daddy?
Jinx felt like she’d been pulled awake. Wasn’t she just in her bed a moment ago? Well, apparently now she was traveling alongside a very grumpish Hex and a very sunny-looking Fortune. Hex’s pale yellow scales were marbled by dark purple, and his eyes were like honey-turquoise. It was odd, though. It seemed that reality blurred in odd areas around him, and for some reason he was wearing a crocodile skin leather rodeo-like hat, like the ones in the Wild West Films, and it looked very similar to Jinx’s one. 
“I’m so sleepy,” said Fortune with a yawn. Her dark purple scales shimmered in the early morning sun, her SeaWing markings lighting up periodically. Her tawny ruff fringed with aquamarine fluttered lazily to her nose, and she sneezed, her matching eyes closing and her entire body launching itself backward. 
Jinx giggled, giving her a playful shove with her wing. “That was one powerful sneeze,” she commented. “How d’ya manage that?”
“Practice,” said Fortune with a straight face, before erupting in giggles. 
Wait -- this had happened before. Minus the rodeo-hat, of course. This was their first trip back to the Scorpion Den. So Jinx was dreaming, then. She cupped Fortune’s face in her talons, and whispered, “wake me up.”
Fortune roared fire in her face. She flew back, eyes closed, and was suddenly thrown off a peak. “Stormrage!” shouted a dragon from above. Wait -- this was the film Jinx had watched a few nights before! The film was about a dragonet named Stormrage and his twin sister, Fae, being hatched, Stormrage being a firescales and Fae being sucked of fire. Stormrage was then thrown off the mountain, Fae trying hopelessly to save her brother. Her brother then survived, and then Jinx promptly fell asleep during the film and didn’t get to see the end. 
Jinx felt her wings fall over her. Was she trapped? No. She felt herself push through the darkness, and emerged from her cover…
It was the morning. Bright sunlight wafted through the train, shining down on three little dragonets, two parents, and one particularly annoyed grandma. 
“QUIT SCREAMING!” shouted grandma Sage, clapping her talons over her ears. Jinx found it odd that her parents got their own seating arrangements; they were in the adults’ cabin, no doubt feasting on fancy adult stuff little dragonets were not allowed to touch. Jinx didn’t like dragonet food; sometimes she’d sneak to the kitchens and eat some of the raspberry-vanilla swirl ice cream the IceWing dessert chef made. She knew all the chefs, and was always the taste-tester when they invented something new. There were Frazil and Floe, the IceWing twins who never seemed to fail at desserts, there was Koi, the kind SeaWing who always impressed with his sushis and seafoods, there was Arugula, the LeafWing/RainWing who--
“GRANDMA, SHE STEPPED ON MY TALONS!” whined Hex, squirming in his seat. He hadn’t touched a bit of his prosciutto-wrapped avocado bruschetta, which was a shame. This was the only part of the meal that Jinx actually liked. The cream pasta was mediocre, and the ice cream hadn’t even been served yet, but Jinx sensed that it wouldn’t be near as good as Frazil’s was. 
“I did no such thing,” said Fortune. “You’re making a fuss for nothing.”
“Grandma, you’ve got to believe me,” Hex pleaded. “Oh please, great Sage, the Goddess who sits on our throne, bless me with your eternal gratitude as--”
“HUSH IT, YOU.” Fortune took her pillow and whacked Hex over the head. 
Jinx stared at them. She decided that it would be better to zone out and listen to the feelings around her. She felt the bitterness of one dragonet around their age who was a Silk/Night hybrid who was in desperate need of a certain operation to restore the eyesight through soar right eye and fix soar small wings and awkward talon shape. Not to mention this dragonet’s parents would only call soar by she/her pronouns, and soa didn’t like that at all. 
There was a gentle SilkWing who enjoyed gardening, and wasn’t pleased that his parents wouldn’t let him date a small, adorable LeafWing who he liked very much, for the simple fact that she was a LeafWing. They didn’t let him venture on any of his own paths, and wouldn’t let him become a gardener. Instead, they were going to send him to a boarding school in Possibility, which could only be reached through the Scorpion Den.
A worried-looking MudWing was scared that his parents would take away his toys if he didn’t get his grades up, and a Leaf/Sky hybrid was angry at her parents for sending her for therapy. 
It was really amazing how much Jinx could get from listening to dragons’ strongest emotions. It made her problems seem really small. Her Grandpa wasn’t that bad, really. It put into perspective how much injustices dragonets had to face, some big, some small, so she really shouldn’t complain.
“Quit fighting, the both of you,” hissed grandma Sage. A very concerned-looking SkyWing waiter stared at them, before serving them each a small dessert of vanilla ice cream, which Jinx foresaw (without actually being a NightWing seer) was bad. It was one of those cheap brands from the Ice Kingdom that had been mass produced and sold because they wanted to capitalize on dragons’ intense desire for ice cream. 
“Yummy!” shouted Hex, promptly stuffing his face with ice cream. So he hadn’t touched the high-quality stuff, but was obsessed with the junk stuff. Good to know.
Fortune licked a little bit of her ice cream and raised an eyebrow. Jinx decided to try hers. It was all dry and icky and gooey, without any actual vanilla in there. It tasted very… artificial. 
“This is gross,” said Fortune, pushing hers away. Jinx did the same; Hex snatched it from the other side of the table and proceeded to gobble it all up.
“It is low-quality garbage,” Jinx reasoned factually. “It’s probably a mass-produced brand whose only purpose is to make money. I learned this from listening to the chefs.”
“Daddy says that the servants and chefs are stupid,” said Hex, licking his spoon with his purple tongue. 
“You’re stupid,” hissed Jinx. “The servants and chefs know what they’re doing. That’s why daddy hired them.”
“She’s got a point,” Fortune agreed.
“Well, they’re worthless anyhow,” Hex snapped. “They have no morals. They have no concept of what’s right or wrong.”
“You have no concept of what’s right or wrong!” shouted Jinx, riling up over the table. How dare he call them that! He was so stupid. “That ice cream you’re eating? It’s mass-produced. That means hundreds of workers are working their butts off in a factory and given little pay just so the company can make money! That’s wrong. Giving our servants fair pay so that they can do their jobs properly, helping us, entertaining us -- we’re little dragonets after all -- that’s right. You show no consideration for the things they do for us! The lives they give up! Chef Koi isn’t able to open his own Sushi Restaurant because he doesn’t have the funds yet, and he loves making sushi for us. He gave up his dream for us. Daddy’s paying him fairly, but it’s not like he can make his dreams come true like that. Servant Petunia wants to become a healer, but her parents weren’t able to afford a school course in medicine, and she wasn’t able to get a Scholarship because the system’s rigged to accept the dragonets of big monetary donors! That’s so unfair! She has to work so hard so that she can collect the funds to go become a healer, but it’s not like the amount of money daddy’s paying her is going to pay for her schooling just like that. She gave up her dreams to take care of little dragonets like you--”
“This went from eating ice cream to talking about whether our servants are morally competent or not,” Sage said wryly. “We’re almost there. You know what? We’ll play the quiet game! Yes, that’s what we’ll do. Three, two, one, and silence for the rest of the ride.”
Jinx gave Hex a dirty look and sat back in her seat. She proceeded to stare out the window. 
She made a promise to the world.
One day she’d make it all right again.
One day she’d make things fair.
Category:Genre (Adventure)
Category:Genre (Romance)
Category:Genre (Prophecy)
Category:Genre (Comedy)
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Content (LunaStar77)