Fugitives

Hey everybody, This is Every, I don't own Wings of Fire etc, etc. This is my first fanfiction, comment if you enjoy this and want me to continue. 
It takes place one year after the war, the NightWings once more disbanded and now have a new kingdom, in a new location. All of the queens still remain, including Queen Ruby. The Talons of Peace have begun to disband, feeling safe now that the war is over. Feel free to edit grammar and spelling.
Tundraflame lay motionless on the ground, waiting for the hunger pains in his abdomen to subside. He had been walking for over a day, and still had no idea where he was, so he tried once more to gather his bearings. He turned his head slowly, taking in the mountains, trees, and a small patrol of red dragons. SkyWings. They would never enjoy having a trespasser on their territory.
Tundraflame groaned as he leaped to his feet and tried to make it to the cover of trees, at the same time realizing where he was. He had wandered into SkyWing territory. His rust red scales would offer no camouflage here. He would hate to run into the patrol, or be imprisoned again. Despite any attempts to suppress memories of his previous imprisonment, they flowed forth freely. 
Tundraflame had just barely finished hunting, coming up with several large lizards and even better, a caracal. He ate joyfully, knowing it would be hard to catch any meals in the future. It always was difficult in the area he roamed and hunted, just at the edge of the sand kingdom, and right next to the ice kingdom. As he finished, he caught sight of a black dragon, only a few dragon lengths away. How had he gotten so close without him noticing? He turned and prepared for a fight, all of the lessons from the dragon who raised him running through his head. None of them, however, did him any good. Just as he turned, something smashed into his skull, and darkness consumed his vision entirely.
 Tundraflame shook his head, stopping the flow of memories as he limped towards the forest, his muscles cramping in protest. His cramped movements were much too slow, and the SkyWings spotted him. He watched them flying towards him and knew he couldn't escape. He turned to fight, first checking his back. He couldn't allow himself to be taken by surprise again.
Pewter heaved against the restraints that always held her, binding her to the large tree at her back, feeling the weight of the thick iron muzzle she always wore. It was only removed when she was fed by the dragons who had held her since her hatching. The dragons who called themselves the Talons of Peace. 
But she had to escape, soon. They almost never fed her, but this was different. The dragons who had been around her for her entire life were beginning to leave, and none of them paid the small silver dragon any mind. If she didn't escape soon, she would be doomed to starvation that had always been just around the corner. Pewter tugged against the chain attached to the tree again, determined to escape. Determined to survive.
Lacquer was waiting for something to happen. Sitting on a pillar above the arena feeling dry, hot wind buffeting against her clipped wings, and watching guards bustling around below her. She was the only prisoner left. The only dragon who hadn't been set free when the war ended, she had watched the guards unbind all of the gladiators, and then watched the prisoners fly away. Lacquer had been waiting to long, the arena fights had stopped, and the only thing she could do was remember what had happened to her.
She would never forget the pain that Scarlet had brought her, outcasting her, executing her parents, and then letting her guards torture her. They beat and scarred her, and then they carved the hateful word into her neck. Outcast. That was all she was now, an outcast, a murderer. None of it was her fault, Scarlet had broken her, and then Burn had turned her into an executioner. Then she had started enjoying the murders, beheading innocent dragons, destroying lives, breaking families.
Then she spotted someone, a dragon she hadn't seen in so long, the dragon who had carved that horrible word into her neck. Lacquer felt the hate roll through her, instantly destroying all of her thoughts. Then she noticed the meat in his talon. He was coming to feed her. She had different plans, and even as they rolled through her head, she could almost fell the wind, and almost feel the wires tightening around her limbs. He was getting so close, and now he was only a dragon length away. She lunged, throwing her body towards him, and off of her pillar, towards the blood she would spill in seconds.
Mortar sat with his back towards his sleeping siblings, ignoring the bright stars contrasted against the satin black sky. He could care less if the sky was interesting, he checked his back, carefully scanning the inky trees. He was terrified of what could happen to his siblings if he stopped for just a few seconds. There were so many grudges held after the end of the great war, murderers who wanted revenge. Mortar couldn't sleep with those fears hanging over his head.
He searched for a few more seconds, drawing out his wait, he didn't want to lay on the ground, waiting for hours for sleep that wouldn't come to him. But he had to try. Mortar slowly stalked over to his siblings, then wrapped his wings around, feeling for the first time the chill in the air. Slowly feeling a little more relaxed, with the warmth of his siblings seeping into his scales. But the cold wind was still blowing against his back, and the quiet threats whispering right at his back.
Tundraflame watched as the first of the five SkyWings landed in front of him, then he lunged, hoping to kill him before the rest of them ganged up on him. But he had misjudged the second dragon's speed, and by the time he had reached the first dragon, the second had slammed into his side. He was thrown sideways by the force of the impact and stars danced across his vision. Then they all were on top of him, holding him against the ground, pinning his wings against the ground. 
"What in three moons? What is this thing?"
He couldn't tell which one had spoken, and they were holding down his barbed SandWing tail. His freezing death breath was also incapacitated, one of them was holding his head against the ground. 
"From up there I thought it was a SkyWing, I don't think I could have been more wrong if I had tried!"
Then he heard a different voice, "Knock him out, we don't know what that thing could do if we tried to carry him."
Tundraflame yelled out a muffled protest, but it couldn't do him any good from where he was, something smashed into his head, and he lost consciousness.
There was a roaring sound in Lacquer's ears as she pounced, and she saw the SkyWing's eyes widen as they registered what was about to happen. It would not have been possible for him to react quickly enough.
The SkyWing shrieked as Lacquer slammed into him, causing his steady wing beats to falter, and he dropped accordingly. Lacquer ripped into his scales with her claws, his warm blood dripping down her forearms, her laughs mingling with his screams. Then the wires jerked taught and halted her descent, jerking the SkyWing from her grasp. The wire around her neck tightened, slowly cutting off her air supply. 
As she lost consciousness, she watched him slow his descent, then crash into the ground. Then he slowly stood, blood pouring from his side. She hadn't killed him. The rest of the SkyWing guards showed up a few seconds later, helping their injured comrade. Three of them flew up to her, keeping their distance, watching her feeble struggles. Then one of them spoke. 
"You're a monster."
Then blackness slowly wrapped around her vision, hiding her from hateful words. Hiding her from herself.
Tundraflame regained his consciousness and attempted to lift his head, but a thick chain around his neck prevented him from moving it. The rest of his limbs were held in place by similar chains, including his tail. He slowly twisted his head, the chains digging into his scales painfully, and saw a hallway across from himself. Then he realized that he was being held against a wall by his chains, the floor just below his tail. 
The room he was in was barely lit by torches, and the hallway he had spotted was almost completely shrouded in darkness. 
"It's awake." A black dragon growled as he seeped out of the shadows.
Tundraflame shot up as the terrible memories seeped into his subconscious. He was violently shivering, not noticing the blazing heat of the sun, or the red dragon on a pillar next to him.
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)