Moonborn Starflight AU - A Short Story

DISCLAIMER: This was just a short contest entry for Corgi Dogs' writing contest, found here. It will never be a completely rewritten novel. The prompt and initial idea was from the contest host, but the writing is by me.
DISCLAIMER 2: Although most of the writing is by me, certain passages of dialogue were copied from Tui T. Sutherland's The Dragonet Prophecy. In addition, the overall plot is guided by the events of that novel. The rest, and all changes based on Starflight's perspective and the AU theory, is solely written by me.
----When Starflight woke up, it was the middle of the night. The first thing he saw was the stars – so many of them, glittering and burning in the vast night sky. For a moment he just lay there, gazing upwards, enchanted by the sight.
After a minute, he came to his senses. He looked down and saw odd metal bands binding his talons and could feel the same cold metal on his wings. I’m a prisoner, he realized in fear. A prisoner of the SkyWings.
He appeared to be trapped upon a tall tock spire, hundreds of feet in the air. Many other rock spires – fifty? A hundred? – formed a wide circle around a large arena down below. Scarlet’s arena, he thought with a shiver. I’ve read about that …
Oddly, though, he was not chained to the rock ledge itself, but rather, thin metal wires bound him to the prisoners on the ledges to his right and left. The others ran down towards the air in the center of the spires, where all the wires from all the prisoners converged in a big, tangled mess. To his right was a huge, adult male IceWing, the color of the moons, and to his left a young orange female SkyWing. Both of them were asleep. Both of them were also scarred. The IceWing is a prisoner of war, he reasoned. But the SkyWing? Are those wounds bleeding? Did she just get imprisoned?
This isn’t the cave anymore. This is the real world. And I’m going to die here.
***
Starflight’s eyes slowly blinked open to bright sunlight and hot smoke. What’s happening? He thought immediately. Am I on fire? Is that even possible? No, I’m not burning anywhere … but there’s heat for sure and —
“Hello!” said a cheerful voice. Starflight groaned as a hunk of charred meat landed on the ledge beside him and looked up.
A young, female coppery-orange SkyWing flew around him. He could immediately tell that she was different from the other SkyWings – smoke appeared to be rising from her scales as well as her snout, and her eyes shone brightly like little blue flames. Who is she?
Somewhat nervously, Starflight opened his thoughts to the strange dragonet. He was almost immediately hit by a wall of fire so hot he could barely see or hear anything beyond it. Just as he was backing off, a single thought flashed through. It wasn’t so much a fully formed thought but an idea, and still it made him shiver.
Murder. Killing. Death.
This dragon is a murderer.
Starflight hunched over and covered his head with his wings. Blunt, intense panic made him freeze up with fear. Who is she? Why can’t I read her mind? IS SHE ABOUT TO KILL ME?
The SkyWing swooped over him again. “Aren’t you going to eat? What’s wrong? Three moons, please tell me there’s not something wrong with our very first NightWing! I can’t wait to fight you.”
This, of course, did nothing to help the thoughts racing through his mind. He lost control of his mindreading for a moment and the thoughts flooded in.
Who’s that? Is it a NightWing? A NightWing dragonet, no less! Where could he have come from?
Three moons, it’s that blasted monster! What is she doing here!?
Before the wall of fire could consume his thoughts, Starflight narrowed in on the SkyWing to his left, who (he was pretty sure) was thinking about the smoking murdery SkyWing in front of him.
That horrid so-called “champion” has scales of fire or something, I saw her kill that SeaWing yesterday! A horrifying memory of the copper SkyWing standing over the burning corpse of a screaming dragon made Starflight shudder and almost throw up over the edge of the rock spire, but somehow he managed to keep listening. What’s her name again? Peril? How awful! I’ve won three fights now, but the queen’s going to pit me against her any day now … there’s no way I’ll win …
Panic clouded Starflight’s vision. She’s going to kill me. She’s going to kill me. What would Tsunami do? She’s going to kill me …
Tsunami would probably do something bold and risky, like throw the meat in the fiery dragon’s face or jump off the ledge. But Starflight could only stand there, frozen in fear. Suddenly, the smoke and fire and light in his eyes vanished into darkness—
Peril standing over Clay, pinning him to the ground, her talons on his chest, fury in her eyes, smoke rising from her claws …
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” pleaded Clay. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”
“It does!” screamed Peril, eyes blazing angrily. “This is how war works. Dragons kill each other all the time.”
Clay’s scales began to smoke …
NO!
Starflight woke up with a shock. He felt cold all over, and he realized he had collapsed onto the stone ledge. He could still taste the smoke from his vision …
Clay. No.
She can’t kill him.
“Uh, hello? Are you okay? Are you dead? Please don’t be dead.”
Three moons. She’s still here. Was she here while I had the vision? How long was I out?
“Hmm. Maybe you’re just asleep. Ooh, or maybe you’re reading my mind! Hmm, what am I thinking right now? Do you want me to go away? Wow, I wish I could read minds. I can’t wait to kill you!” With that, Starflight felt her heat and smoke leave as she flew off across the circle towards other prisoners.
Thank the moons, she’s gone. Oh no. Oh no. She’s going to kill me, and Clay too. And probably all of my friends. He thought back to that horrid vision …
It was the first time he’d had another vision since the one about Morrowseer. Was it really only two days ago that the great NightWing had come to visit? It felt like months had passed. Living hidden under the mountain, battle training with Kestrel, studying scrolls in the late hours … that life was over. Starflight’s wings drooped slightly. Scrolls … if only he had a scroll now … maybe he could learn how to escape …
He still didn’t know what that first vision had meant. He’d seen NightWings, lots of them, black scales clashing against white, and blood, blue blood. And Morrowseer, talons stretched out towards Starflight, blocking out the sun and enveloping him in darkness …
Don’t think about that, Starflight. Focus on what you should be thinking about – the truth …
Starflight’s powers had developed from a young age, so he’d had no reason to doubt the scrolls. He’d believed with all his heart that NightWings were truly the superior tribe, and never bothered to hide his mindreading powers from the other dragonets or guardians. What was the point, after all? Everyone knew what NightWings could do, and the fact that Starflight was living proof earned him a bit of respect.
That was until the day Morrowseer came. Starflight had been nervous to read the big NightWing’s mind, because for once his own thoughts would be exposed. Still, he’d caught a few quick thoughts, including the fact that he was going to be taken aside for a private conversation. Morrowseer had openly talked to Starflight about his powers when he invited him into a side cave – and Starflight had been delighted.
“Of course, I read your mind,” he had said eagerly, and boldly followed his elder into the next room. This is it! I’m finally meeting my tribe! The NightWing gave him a curious look as he did, but Starflight didn’t take much notice.
“I see you are already trained in the arts of deception,” Morrowseer told him once they were inside. “I didn’t expect to see such qualities in you already, but it seems you were brought up better than I thought. Your leadership qualities are evident.”
“What?” asked Starflight, confused.
“The mindreading,” said Morrowseer impatiently. “It’s a lie, obviously. An image. You’re not the only one without powers.”
“I’m … not,” said Starflight hesitantly. “Without powers. Are you?”
“There’s no need to keep up the pretense around me,” said the NightWing with raised eyebrows. “I mean, can you actually tell me what I’m thinking right now?”
“Well,” said Starflight, “You’re thinking, the dragonet makes no sense speaking nonsense there’s been no mind readers for centuries if there were ever any to begin with what in the world three moons DRAGONET GET OUT OF MY – oh.”
Starflight looked up into the looming NightWing’s smoking face, shrinking back in fear.
Morrowseer was furious now, smoke rising from his snout. “Listen up, dragonet. NightWings are born natural leaders. You need to establish yourself as the leader of that pathetic group and make them choose Blister.”
“Make them choose … Blister? To be queen? You mean, without even—”
“CHOOSE. BLISTER.” Morrowseer stormed out of the cave, too angry to say anything else. And Starflight was left as confused as ever.
Even now, his thoughts went on in an endless circle. Does that mean I’m really the only mind reader? But why? Why are there prophets and not mind readers? And does that mean I’m a prophet too, because of that vision? Well, by now, it’s two visions …
Starflight realized he was hungry and pulled the piece of smoking meat closer. He took a bite and decided it wasn’t that bad. As he ate, gazed out at the circle of prisoners. Are my friends here? Maybe I can find them by tracking their thoughts. Carefully he opened his mind, searching for violent, angry rage-thoughts that were likely to be coming from Tsunami, but many of the dragons were angry. Still, he was able to look in the right direction and managed to spot a small cobalt blue SeaWing lashing her tail and shouting something at a guard.
Yep, that’s Tsunami, all right. Let’s see … the others’ thoughts will be less recognizable, but Clay, Sunny, and Glory will stand out among these prisoners for sure. But even as he searched, both with his eyes and his mind (the other prisoners sure had a lot of thoughts about him), he could only find Clay.
Starflight’s eyes widened in shock when he saw Peril flying near Clay, talking to him. Is she going to kill him now!? No, my vision was in the arena. Three moons, I have to do something …
As he was looking around, slightly panicked, he noticed some SkyWing soldiers setting up the arena. Then many SkyWings – and some SandWings and MudWings – began to fill up the seats. Of course – the MudWings are allied with the SkyWings. That’s why Clay’s the only MudWing prisoner. It seemed to take a while for them to fill up, but when they finally had, Scarlet herself strode outside to greet her subjects in all her glittering bejeweled majesty.
It’s a fight, Starflight realized. An arena fight. These must happen every day.
With the queen came several SkyWing guards, two of which rolled out something into the sunlight. A leafless tree carved from pale gray marble. And on it …
Is that Glory?
Sure enough, Glory was stretched out sleepily on the sculpture. As the sunlight hit her scales, new colors dazzled and rippled through them – reds and blues and golds and purples, so many different colors, always shifting and swirling.
Why isn’t she trying to escape? Maybe it’s the sunlight, or maybe they’ve drugged her somehow. Or is she pretending on purpose? Acting asleep to trick Scarlet?
“Well?” called Queen Scarlet. “What do you think of my new art?”
Thundering applause shook the stadiums. The spectators were eager for the battle to begin.
“Bring in the combatants!”
From one tunnel came the horrid coppery SkyWing. Peril. Starflight recognized her immediately from the smoke rising from her scales. She entered the arena, waving to the crowd, which seemed hesitant to cheer for her.
Fire scales … she’s a natural-born murderer. They know she’s going to win, no matter what … Starflight wasn’t sure he wanted to watch the battle.
Meanwhile, two guards had unclipped a SandWing on the opposite side of the ring of prisoners and now carried him down to the arena while he fought viciously. They dumped him mercilessly in front of the smoking monster and flew off again. Another guard came down and quieted everyone down with thunderous claps of his wings.
“After four wins, Horizon the SandWing – formerly, and unwisely, a soldier in Blaze’s army – has been challenged to a match with the Queen’s Champion, Peril. Claws up, fire ready! Fight!” He leaped into the air, leaving the two combatants alone in the arena.
Horizon backed up, afraid. Peril stalked towards him calmly. Murderously, Starflight thought as he saw her mischievous smile. This was not going to end well.
Suddenly the battle-scarred SandWing ran at Peril, leaped clear over her head, and raced to the other side of the arena. He didn’t even try to attack her on the way past. He’s scared, noted Starflight. Delaying his inevitable fate …
Peril turned around and smiled again. Starflight felt his blood run cold. How can she take this so casually? She must take lives almost every day.
Horizon bolted for the tunnel in fear. Peril leaped in his way and attacked him, slashing her claws across his chest. He screamed and fell back, and Peril followed, scratching him again. The SandWing flapped his wings desperately, screaming in agony. Smoke was rising from his scratches. She really is a firescales. Oh wait, that’s actually a SkyWing thing, isn’t it? Don’t they usually kill firescales dragonets? Why is this one alive?
Still smiling in her murderous, bone-chilling way, she reached out with one talon and touched one of Horizon’s wings, pinning it to his body. The SandWing’s screams were unbearable to listen to, but Starflight couldn’t make himself look away. He tried, nervously, to open his mind to the Horizon’s thoughts and immediately regretted it. Despite how far down the fight was happening, the burning pain filled Starflight’s head, clouding out all reason.
Make it stop, make it stop! Make the pain stop! The pain was too intense to ignore – his wings, his chest – the pain – the pain – PAIN – the pain intensified further – pain, everywhere – he covered his head with his wings, ready to scream—
And then the pain ebbed away, and Starflight’s head slowly cleared, and he stopped whimpering, looking up. The battle was over. What used to be Horizon the SandWing lay on the ground as a pile of ashes.
That – that – that was me, just now. Starflight was shaking all over. Cold, fearful sweat ran down his spine. I – I felt his pain – she killed me. She killed me.
***
“Hey! NightWing! I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I brought you some more food. Hmm, Clay said to ask you about history or something?”
It was Peril. The moment her smoke reached Starflight’s nose, he trembled in fear. Not her again. Please, not her—
“So. What happened at the – Scathing?”
Scorching, Starflight corrected automatically. She’s as bad at history as Clay. Then he shook his head, feeling ashamed of his joke. She’s a literal murderer! She … she …
He couldn’t finish the thought.
She tilted her head. “Hmm. I guess you don’t want to talk. Well, I hope I get to fight you soon!” She threw another piece of burned meat down to him and flew away. Starflight felt his tense muscles relax as she left, but only slightly.
Three moons, help me get out of this mess.
***
The next morning, SkyWing soldiers came to unclip Starflight’s chains.
He panicked. Am I being taken down into the arena? Do I have to fight … her?
They flew him down, down, down, into the arena, and set him down in the sand. No! he thought. But wait … there’s no one here. It’s not even fully light yet. Momentary relief flooded his mind, before he realized, Oh no. But what are they doing?
He looked around frantically. There was only one tunnel that led out of the arena, and the soldiers were already dragging him towards it. Starflight’s wings were still bound, and he could do nothing except let the guards carry him off.
The tunnel was relatively wide, with occasional skylights and torches along the walls. As they walked, he noticed that the tunnel sloped upwards. It must lead into the palace. Where are they taking me? He closed his eyes and opened his mind to the nearest SkyWing soldier.
I wonder where Ledge is right now. She said she’d meet me once I got off duty. Does she think …? His thoughts trailed off to an image of a young, pretty orange SkyWing.
Starflight glanced up at the soldier’s armored face. It looked as fierce and hardened as the other guards’ expressions, and he hadn’t expected such a forbidding dragon to have such soft, ordinary thoughts.
He momentarily let his guard down by accident, and he could hear voices up ahead. Closing his eyes again, he put up a mental shield, allowing the thoughts to blend into the background.
Suddenly, the passageway opened up and he found himself within a vast hall. He found himself standing on a wide balcony that ran all the way around the walls. There were more levels of balconies above him, and the top was open to the sky. Huge windows and patterns inlaid with gold decorated the hall. Dragons bustled about, greeting the rising sun.
So much treasure …
The guards shoved him after a trail of golden talonprints in the ground. Other dragons noticed him and murmured as he passed by. Starflight wanted to lower his head, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid the attention. Instead, he straightened up, casting a “superior NightWing” glance at the others. I can read your minds. I have the power to know everything about who you are and what you are afraid of.
The guards emerged with Starflight into a blindingly bright throne room, decorated with wealth beyond anything Starflight could have imagined. A towering rock column, carved into the shape of clouds, served as Her Majesty’s throne. The opposite wall was open to the sky.
Queen Scarlet looked down disdainfully at the floor below her. In one corner, Glory lay in the branches of the marble statue, more relaxed and colorful than ever up close. Two SkyWings guarded the tree with menacing glares.
Starflight stumbled forward and sank into a bow in front of the queen. I can’t make her angry, he thought. I need to figure out a way to get out of here. He set his talons in front of him and folded his wings in a graceful posture – at least what he hoped was a graceful posture. He couldn’t tell how the queen was looking at him.
A couple minutes later, Clay was dragged in. He, too, came forward to crouch next to Starflight. “Are you alright?” he whispered.
Starflight glanced up at Scarlet and shook his head. Not now, Clay!
“The NightWing is trying to tell you that it’s rude to talk to anyone else before the queen in her own throne room,” said Queen Scarlet. “First you bow to me, and then you stay put until I’m ready to address you all. Really, what are they teaching dragonets these days? It’s so very disrespectful.”
“Sorry,” mumbled Clay, trying to mimic Starflight’s posture and utterly failing. Starflight winced mentally as Scarlet gave a disapproving sniff.
After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, he heard a commotion in the tunnel. It sounded like the guards had finally brought Tsunami, but she was putting up quite a fight. Finally, the guards flung her alongside Clay and Starflight, jumping back. Her talons and tail were bound to her sides. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed many of the guards wincing in pain, and one limped.
“Well, hello,” the queen said, eyebrows raised. “We’ve been waiting for you. I gather you’re enjoying your stay?”
“This is an outrage,” Tsunami growled. “How can you treat dragons this way? Especially us! We’re the —”
“— dragonets of destiny, yes, very thrilling,” Scarlet said with a bored expression. “I understand you’ve been underground for the last six years, so perhaps you haven’t heard: not everyone wants this war to end.”
Starflight looked away angrily.
“Personally, I think the war is quite entertaining,” the queen went on. “I pick up lots of contenders for the arena from the battlefield. And it’s a terrific distraction for those dragons who might otherwise have challenged me for the throne. No one’s even tried in about eight or nine years. Saves me a lot of trouble.”
“So it’s all right with you that hundreds of dragons have died all across the world,” Tsunami hissed.
The queen gave her a pitying look. “As if you know anything about that. Have you ever been in a real battle? Have you ever seen hundreds of dragons die? Do you know anything, really, about this war?”
Tsunami’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “We’ve studied it,” she said fiercely. “We know it’s awful. We know innocent dragons are getting hurt.”
“Well, it’s easy to say war is awful,” Queen Scarlet said, waving one talon dismissively. “But it’s a lot harder to solve these problems without having a war. Especially when you’re talking about dragons. Fighting comes naturally to us. You should know — you attacked me when you barely even knew me.”
She flicked her tail forward, and Starflight saw an ugly red wound in her scales. Did Tsunami do that?
“And who should be the next SandWing queen?” Scarlet asked. “Burn, Blister, or Blaze? I’d love to know if you’ve already decided that, from the wisdom and wide experience of your safe little underground cave.”
“That’s not our fault,” Tsunami said. “We wanted to be out in the world.”
Queen Scarlet looked amused again. “That’s what you think,” she said. “Hilarious. As if you’d have survived this long out here. Your minders did tell you what happened to all the other dragonets born on the brightest night, didn’t they?”
Starflight inhaled sharply. The SkyWing eggs. It has to be. The reason Glory is one of us. He exchanged a glance with Tsunami. Clay watched them, confused.
“Tsk, tsk,” Queen Scarlet said, looking amused at their surprise. “Well, I won’t go into details, but it was very sad.”
“Excuse me,” Clay said. Starflight trod on his foot. Not now, Clay! Shut up! Clay just jostled him away.. “Ow, stop! I have a question! Excuse me, Your Majesty,” he said. “Where’s Sunny? Is she all right?”
“Oh, the funny-looking SandWing,” Queen Scarlet said dismissively. “I think Burn will like her very much. She collects curiosities. You should see her palace. It’s quite horrifying — full of two-headed lizards and seven-toed dragon talons and stuffed scavengers with the palest skin you ever saw.” She shuddered. “That misshapen dragonet will be the perfect present for her.”
“You can’t give Sunny to Burn!” Tsunami burst out angrily. “We have to stay together!”
“I can do whatever I like,” Queen Scarlet said. “This is my kingdom.”
“What about Glory?” Clay asked. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing’s wrong with her,” said the queen. “She’s quite perfect, if you ask me. A lovely accessory for my throne room.”
“But why is she all — sleepy?” Clay asked.
“RainWings are naturally lazy creatures,” Queen Scarlet said. “Hadn’t you noticed? But then, MudWings aren’t known for their brains.”
“You have to let us go,” Tsunami said. “You can’t stop the prophecy and we’ll —”
“Shush,” said the queen, and one of the soldiers prodded Tsunami with a long stick. “Your spunkiness is starting to bore me. Now listen. In two days, we are having a big celebration for my hatching day. I want all three of you to be thrilling and fierce in the arena for me. But I also promised my subjects that today’s fight would be exciting, so if I put one of you into it, it would be very thoughtful if you could win. So. Is the NightWing up to it? Which of you is most likely to win a battle to the death against, say, an IceWing?”
“Me,” answered Clay and Tsunami immediately.
“What? No,” said Starflight. He didn’t want to look like he was too cowardly or weak to fight. “I’m the one who can read minds.”
“You’re a pathetic fighter, Starflight, I’m the strongest of all of us,” snapped Tsunami.
“I can fight!” protested Clay. “Let me do it. I bet you’ve never had a MudWing in the arena before.”
“Enough!” thundered Scarlet. “I want to see the NightWing fight. Take these two away.” She flicked her tail at Clay and Tsunami. The soldiers came forward again, eyeing Tsunami with expressions of dread.
Oh no. I shouldn’t have volunteered. Why did I have to burst out like that? I’m going to die!
“As for this one . . .” Queen Scarlet pointed at Starflight. Her eyes were malicious yellow slits. “Prepare him for the arena.”
***
Starflight found himself being dragged through the dark tunnel before he was thrown roughly into the blinding white sands of the arena. He yelped at the heat of the ground and shot to his feet, shaking and sweating.
Another prisoner was seized from his spire. An IceWing. Full grown. Battle-scarred – no doubt a prisoner of war. Oh, moons, how am I going to get out of this?
Starflight willingly opened his mind to the prisoner as he, too, was thrown onto the sand.
A NightWing, the IceWing was thinking, somewhat curious and slightly awed.
That’s right, fear me, Starflight thought, puffing out his chest proudly and trying to look menacing.
Three moons, is he reading my mind right now? Never mind, he looks small. Probably untrained in battle. I wonder where he came from … never fought a NightWing before. Seems almost a shame to kill him. Not that I have a choice. His mind was cold and war-hardened. They didn’t train us how to fight NightWings. I don’t know what techniques they use.
The same SkyWing announcer from the day before strutted to the center of the arena and bellowed at the crowd. “After last month’s battle with Blaze’s army, our queen’s dungeons were stuffed with IceWing prisoners of war. Only nine have survived. After two wins, I give you — Fjord of the IceWings!”
Fjord hissed and lashed his tail.
“And in this corner, the rarest of all dragons. A real live NightWing! And none other than the dragonet of the so-called prophecy.”
Gasps and excited murmurs ran through the crowd.
“Are the dragonets of destiny as powerful as they say they are? Let’s find out in this once-in-a-lifetime battle. I give you … Starflight of the NightWings! Claws up, teeth ready! Fight!”
Fjord’s pale blue scales were the color of sky reflected in the snow on the distant mountain peaks. His eyes were slightly darker blue and full of malice. Extra horns like a ruff of icicles stood out around his head. A long claw scratch down his neck had barely begun to heal, with dried blood still sticking to the scales around it. He hissed, darting a deep blue, forked tongue between his icicle-sharp teeth. Best kill him now. Quick and fast.
Starflight saw a flicker of motion mirroring the IceWing’s thoughts and realized that Fjord was about to feint to the left and then lunge towards the right. He waited until Fjord was in motion – unbalanced and vulnerable. Ignoring his instinct to flinch towards the right, Starflight leaped forward and slammed his body into Fjord’s side, catching him off guard.
Gasps and cheers came from the audience.
Fjord snarled. How did he know I was going to do that? Did he actually read my mind? He leapt to his feet. One of his wounds had reopened when it had hit the sand, and a thin stream of blue blood flowed from it.
He began feinting right and left, but Starflight could tell from his thoughts that he was keeping balanced, on his guard. Starflight made the mistake of staying still and realized a second too late that the IceWing was about to use his frostbreath.
No! He lunged forward at the last minute, scraping at the IceWing’s underbelly, but Fjord easily threw him off. Fortunately, he had caused the frostbreath to miss.
“You little –” Fjord roared angrily.
Starflight was on his feet now, dodging left and right, feinting and lunging when the IceWing least expected it. When preparing to breathe fire, he saw in Fjord’s thoughts that he was angled slightly to the left, and Fjord expected him to feint right and then strike at his side. Well, let’s mix it up a bit, then.
He dodged right first, and while Fjord adjusted his position for Starflight’s attack, he ducked and rolled underneath, all while gathering the warmth to create fire. His plan was to leap to his feet and blast Fjord’s face with fire as soon as he turned around. But when he came up, he was off-balance and didn’t see Fjord’s tail whip around and smack him hard in the face. Starflight stumbled back.
“Ooooh!” came calls from the crowd.
“Strike now! Kill him, kill him!”
“Read his mind, NightWing!”
“Kill him now while he’s blinded!”
Starflight, momentarily distracted, lost connection with Fjord’s mind and accidentally let the huge IceWing strike out with both talons and slam him to the ground.
“Time to die, NightWing,” said Fjord, wrapping his claws around Starflight’s neck. He gasped, his breathing becoming shallower and shallower. No! I can’t die like this. He’s going to kill me! I’m going to die! NO! Starflight’s eyes squeezed shut. The IceWing inhaled, getting ready to blast Starflight with a final killing breath.
He heard a faraway yell, and Fjord’s mind momentarily became distracted from Starflight. He opened his eyes again and saw that the IceWing was looking up at the prisoners. So was everyone else in the stadium. He followed their gaze and saw a blue dragon far overhead, thrashing in the net of wires above the arena. The other prisoners were shouting and scrabbling to hold on to their rock towers as the weight of the dragon threatened to drag them all down.
It was Tsunami. She must have thrown herself off her prison cell, trying to get to Starflight. But the wires held her fast, and she was fighting like an insect caught in a spiderweb.
“Get up there!” Queen Scarlet roared, and all the SkyWing guards around her lifted off at once.
This is my chance. I have to kill him now. Starflight struggled, trying to throw off the IceWing, but his carefully planned move didn’t play out the way it had in his mind. Fjord whipped back around and tightened his grip, inhaling again.
So Starflight was the only one looking at the ice dragon when a jet of small black droplets spattered against the side of Fjord’s face and neck.
Fjord flinched in surprise and automatically reached up with one talon to wipe his face clean. But before his claws reached his snout, both dragons heard a hissing noise. Starflight stared in shock as the black drops started to bubble and smoke. The scales underneath them began to melt. Starflight realized a moment too late that his mind was still open to Fjord’s.
And the pain.
It was agony, horrible agony, pain beyond anything Starflight had ever experienced. It was worse than feeling Horizon burn to death, because Fjord was right here, on top of Starflight, the IceWing’s freezing scales touching his own, the pain and cold and fury flowing into his heart— piercing screams sliced the air, and they weren’t just Fjord’s.
Starflight rolled away from the IceWing, writhing in pain, clutching his head, his neck, his eye as they disintegrated – pain – pain – PAIN—
And then the pain began to fade, and the screams stopped, and Starflight was all that was left, crouched over, clutching at his head in the shocked silence.
And then there were cheers. The whole crowd roared and clapped and stomped. A few little jewels bounced off Starflight’s scales, thrown from the dragons in the seats above.
Slowly, Starflight uncovered his ears and mind, only to be immediately bombarded with thoughts. Quickly he put his guard up again. I need to know who sprayed that liquid. His head followed the direction of where the black droplets must have come from: the queen’s balcony. He narrowed in on the minds of the dragons there.
Queen Scarlet. Well, that was certainly thrilling! I wonder what other powers the NightWing has. I can’t wait to see him fight again! It would have been better if he hadn’t cowered at the end, though. What kind of dragon screams as they kill their opponent.
Peril. Three moons, what was that? Oh no, am I going to have to fight him? Is that going to happen to me? A strong emotion pulsed through her mind. Fear, Starflight realized with some small satisfaction, despite the traumatizing echoes of pain still pulsing through his scales and mind. She fears me.
And Glory, whose racing thoughts did not even remotely match her slumbering posture and peaceful face.
I just survived death. Again.
And this is my murderer.
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(Yeah, I know it leaves off on a cliffhanger -- but that's intentional, I'm not going to add to it, so this page does in fact belong in the Fanfictions (Complete) category.)
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon)
Category:Content (X.dragonlynx.X)
Category:Fanfictions (Completed)
Category:Mature Content
Category:Genre (Short Story)