Mirrored Vision

__NOEDITSECTION__
----
A fanfic starring Surya, Lyre, and Coriolis aka sea cucumber
Set in the Split Worlds universe! Go check that out for some context!
Written by Epi and Sby!
----
Coriolis is a SeaWing. He’s a member of a tribe with power, and everyone knows it. So why would he bother to hide it? He wants to show off that he is higher up. He wants to be respected, and he wants to be feared. Most of all, he wants to remain powerful. The last thing he needs is a disloyal SkyWing.
Lyre is a SkyWing. She lives under the control of the SeaWings, a tribe that isn’t the most kind. She’s always respected the power structure, but when three dragons from a tribe she’s supposed to fear help her reveal a different side of herself, she realises that maybe she doesn’t like being the lower class.
Surya is a SandWing. After the attack on Pantala that led to her tribe’s banishment, her tribe has been forced to scavenge and pillage. With the help of her two other triplet brothers, she leads a gang that aims to destroy, steal, and make dragons pay. Maybe, just maybe, this time, they can make some alliances.
==Prologue==
IceWing
He hated the desert.
He hated the heat and the scorching hot sun. He hated how the scratchy, grainy yellow sand got in between his talons and made it a painful nightmare to walk in. He hated how he was alone, and most of all, he hated the fact that this was the first time in his life he'd gone to the desert and this was what he had to face.
He was sent out by the higher ups in his tribe to go find some weird cactus that could apparently heal venom scratches. Which tribe's venom? He didn't know. RainWings were the only tribe that even had venom, but they didn't scratch dragons with it. Although.. they must use it once in a while. He shuddered, even though the heat, though warm and welcoming when he first entered, was now harsh and unforgiving on his scales.
The desert was called the Deathlands. No wonder, he thought, kicking around some long-gone rat-looking carcass. It was practically just a skeleton, with dried, brown stretched skin draped across what looked to be a ribcage. He stopped, a repulsed chill rising through him again. This place practically reeked of death.
He squinted forwards, the heat scattering prisms of mirrored waves towards him. There was a large rock pillar looking thing in the distance. It was the only structure he could see in any direction, and though eerie, it seemed to push him on, it offered a place for him to stay the night. He could make out a distinct black dot on top of the pillar, but when he blinked, it disappeared.
Oh great. I'm seeing things now. He grumbled to himself. He wasn't afraid of mirages, arctic ones he had encountered before, and he had water and food, so he could last at least a couple of days. But if he got lost in this barren wasteland, with no natural markers to tell north from south, he was a good as dead. Worse, the occasional gust of wind stirred up pale, dry dust, covering and uncovering sand and shifting the desert world right in front of his eyes. Sure, it was the closest thing he could get to a refreshing breeze, yes, he was grateful for it, but it was frivolous to try and mark anything when the landscape itself moved with the wind.
When he had learned about it in school the illustrations had been in black and white, or dusty, reddish-brown tones with gray clouds covering the sky and rain pelting down in torrents.
But this? This place was nothing like it. The sun shone so brightly in the clear, cloudless sky his eyes hurt even when they were squeezed shut. His scales were practically melting under the heaps of dust that was clinging to them. He wished there was rain.
He stumbled a few steps further, then tripped over a large, hard object, not unlike the skeleton he had found earlier. His stomach lurched at the thought. Who put that there? This was a desert. It should only be sand in the desert.
He stood up, trying to wipe grime off of himself, and looked around. He was actually standing on a big chalky slab of rock, thank goodness, most of it covered thickly with sand. He swept some away with his talon, grateful for the thought that at least he was standing on solid ground now. He felt as if the open desert could swallow him up at any second, and no one would even know he was there.
Beneath the sand, the slab had split into a crisscross of crevices, spiralling into intricate patterns on the tawny stone. That one there looked even like a dragon, albiet a somewhat disfigured one. It didn't look like anything (or anyone) he'd ever seen before; a sharp, distict frame, a forked tongue, and some kind of web or membrane on their back.
He brushed away from more sand with his tail, curiously. There was a whole network of cracks there. One group even looked like an IceWing. Small chips in the stone formed the icicle ruff and tail spikes. He felt a wave lf silent pride in seeing his tribe etched into this natural formation, even if he wasn't exactly sure what it meant.
He breathed some icebreath onto the rock. It barely lasted two minutes in the sun. Though, he thought wryly, he never did have the strongest ice of his generation.
But for the short time the ice crystals were able to form on the rock, he could see the cracks became even more defined and noticeable; snow white against the dusty red. He continued sweeping, ripples of sand spreading from underneath his talons.
wip
==Chapter One==
Lyre
A loud crash of a cymbal sounded through the room, awakening a small red-and-gold dragonet from her slumber. It was the alarm that she so despised. She lifted her head up sleepily and looked at her clock. Eight in the morning. At least it was better than a school day.
She pulled herself out of bed reluctantly. Normally she’d be sleeping in, but today she’d agreed to go for a morning fly with her mother. She grabbed her orange wristband and slipped it around her wrist with a grunt. She hated those stupid things.
Issued by the SeaWings, the wristbands divided the SkyWings by their class. Pink for dragonets aged 1-2, orange for students, yellow for unemployed, red for those with jobs and possibly families, and magenta for those who were retired. She found them entirely unnecessary, but they were the law, and her tribe had accepted that law when they bowed to the SeaWings, so she wore hers without a single remark except to herself.
She walked out into her dining room with a smile, spotting her mother, a beautiful cherry-red dragoness, sitting at the table smiling back at her.
“Have some cerreal, dearr,” she said softly. Lyre’s mother had a quiet, calm voice that always made her feel calm. She rolled her rs slightly, developed from working in a place where many spoke like that. “There’s Emberr-Os in the cupboarrd.”
“Okay mom!” she said happily, quickly getting over her annoyance from the wristband. She walked over and grabbed the box of Ember-Os, then a bowl, then the milk jug. She poured the cereal, then the milk, then grabbed a cup and poured some milk into it. Putting everything back where it was, she sat across from her mother, who put down the news-scroll she’d been reading.
“How arre you, Lyrre?” she asked.
“I’m okay mom,” she replied happily. “A little tired.”
Her mom laughed, a loud, barking laugh that was nothing like how she spoke, a laugh that Lyre adored. “You just woke up!” she exclaimed.
Lyre grinned back, and then the two of them chatted for a few minutes as she scooped cereal into her mouth. The talked about school, life, and everything in between. Morning conversations with her mother were the best.
Just before they left, her mother looked at her pointedly. “Do you have yourr wrristband?” she asked, and Lyre nodded. Her mother smiled and nodded, and they took off into the sky. The wind rushed over her scales as she soared next to her mother, whose red wristband was in an odd spot without many red scales so it could be seen.
Her mother suddenly sped off into a cloud.
“Hey!” she exclaimed, and was answered by her mother’s laughter up ahead. “I’m coming!” she yelled with a small giggle, then flapped her wings hard and sped up to catch her mother. She burst out of a cloud to see her resting, flapping her wings lightly to stay in the air.
“You caught me, sweehearrt!” she said jokingly. “I thought I got rrid of you!”
“Meanie,” Lyre replied in mock-sadness, coming to a near stop as well.
“Would you like to land forr a little while?” her mother asked. “I know I just said a morrning fly, but I would like to spend some time with you.”
Lyre was a little surprised, but she nodded. Her mother dove, and she dove after her, down onto the warm sands of one of the smaller, but still public, islands. As they lay, Lyre caught a glimpse of an annoyingly familiar bright blue dragon. Sitting up, she groaned inwardly. It was that grumpy old sea cucumber. His real name was Coriolis, but she thought Sea Cucumber was much more fitting. The SeaWings weren’t a great tribe, but he was one of the worst. What were the chances?
==Chapter Two==
Name
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Genre (Adventure)
Category:Content (Epiphlyte)
Category:Content (Sbyman)
Category:Collaborations