The Shifting Sands

Darkthought is a NightWing stolen from his tribe at birth, raised by a MudWing
Sunwatcher is a NightWing with a strange power and no parents.
It is five hundred years before the War of SandWing Succession.
PA: This was written a really long time ago and may not be very good. So, just warning.
== Prologue: A Stolen Egg ==
516 Years Before the SandWing War of Succession...
Thunder rolled and lightning struck as Bullfrog flew towards Jade Mountain, its twin peaks reaching like dragon fangs into the stormy sky. The MudWing's muscular legs were tucked next to his tail, and his front talons clutched a silver NightWing egg. This was his reward for three years in the prison of the NightWings, and he wasn't letting it get away, even if...
A roar echoed behind him.
Oh no, he thought, and an involuntary tremor of fear shook from his snout to the tip of his tail. He tucked a wing in close, and rolled down towards the rocky hills that surrounded Jade Mountain. A blast of fire rocketed over his head, and he heard a NightWing hiss in frustration. So, they had come. And it was night, with three moons hovering overhead. Now that he thought about it, the stars weren't seeming quite right, and were definitely wrong when they folded away and turned into NightWings diving towards him. 
Curse their star-wings! he thought fiercely. Roaring, the largest dragon drew up a breath and blasted fire into Bullfrog's face. The MudWing cried out in pain, but still lashed out at a smaller NightWing that was trying to get a grip on the egg. A third NightWing slashed at Bullfrog's wings, and the MudWing plummeted towards a rocky outcropping. 
The egg was still gripped in his claws, although talon marks suggested he had been holding it too hard. He relaxed his claws, and spread his wings, trying to slow the fall. The wind wasn't with them, and the large dragon plummeted with the silver egg down, down, down towards the stone. He felt the heat of another plume of flame tickle his tail, and spinning around, saw a wiry NightWing with talons outstretched reaching towards him. 
They can't have it! he thought ferociously. He summoned up his own fire and scorched the black dragon in the face. Howling, the NightWing spread his wings and clawed at his charred face. Bullfrog grunted with the weak heat that scalded his throat slightly. After this, he would definitely change his lifestyle to something a bit less... dramatic.
"Die, MudWing!" roared a NightWing, one with a white tint and a cold feel to him. Who's she? Bullfrog wondered. No NightWings have the feel of an IceWing to them... unless... Oh no. Fall faster! he shouted mentally. A frosty blast hit the tip of his tail, and the pain he felt was like blades of ice being stuck into scale-less skin. Roaring in agony, Bullfrog thought, a hybrid dragon; a NightWing-IceWing. Fear trickled along his spine. Another frost breath hit his wing, and he forced his eyes shut, tears flowing off his eyes. The ice patterns spread across his wings, freezing his wingtip and tail into thick, solid ice. 
Bellowing, Bullfrog blasted another shot of flame into the strange NightWing-IceWing's face. Screeching, the hybrid dove towards the ground, folding her wings and limbs to go faster. Bullfrog sunk his jaws into another NightWing's tail and let the muscular dragon pull him up. The dragon howled in pain, just as the hybrid doubled back, grabbed Bullfrog's wings in her talons, opened her jaws and prepared to blast frostbreath onto Bullfrog's face. The MudWing slammed his eyes closed a second before the frost hit his face, and felt the ice sink into his scales. He tried to open his eyes, but failed. The ice had covered it over.
Releasing fire everywhere, Bullfrog hears the screams of two NightWings, and the sizzling of dragon flesh. The heat loosened the ice trapping his eyes shut, and filled with hope, he reared his head around, blasting fire indiscriminately. The frost around his eyes melted, and he blinked to see the biggest NightWing's talons on his back, heaving him up into the air. The hybrid was still screaming, clutching her talons to her face with a sizzling noise. 
Bullfrog winced, and he had a flashback to five  years ago; he was slashing at a training dummy in the courtyard of the MudWing palace, his teacher Crocodile snapping instructions at his legion. He remembered how thrilled he was that he was going to be a real soldier in the army. Now, years later, he felt ashamed that he had ever been excited about hurting other dragons. Slowly, he pried himself back to his precarious situation.
He couldn't attack, or the NightWing would drop him. He flopped still, but his muscles tensed, talons gripping the silver egg tightly. The world under him shifted from rocky hills to the foot of Jade Mountain. He waited until the rendezvous appeared in his sight, and then spun around, wincing at the sharp slashes that cut into his scales as he shifted around. He clawed at the NightWing's underbelly until the black dragon roared in pain and released him and the silver egg. As he plummeted, he heard the shrieks and roars of the NightWings, but he flared his wings and landed on the uneven grey rocks of Jade Mountain. 
He galloped up the side of the mountain, choosing the safest paths quickly. He turned a corner and hid in the darkness. The roars of the NightWings echoed behind him, and he saw the dragons fly by, headed to the other side of the mountain. 
He sighed, and relaxed his talons on the egg. Fumbling with the object, it rolled out of his grasp, and began moving down the mountain at a rapidly speedier pace. He froze, and looked up. A dark cave was just thirty feet away, the safety of the darkness inviting him. But the egg!
He stood there, agonizing over the decision. On the one talon, getting to the cave was a priority before the NightWings came back. But then he couldn't have his prize! I'll get the egg. If I don't, this'll all be for nothing, he thought. Decided, he dove for the egg, spreading his wings for speed. The egg came closer... and closer... and then a lone NightWing flew past, sniffing the air. Bullfrog's heart sank. Was the whole pack there? If so, he was dead. The egg was almost within his grasp, so he went faster, and clutched it in his front talons. Then everything went slow. 
A thundering roar echoed from the cave Bullfrog was going to hide in, and a large, orange dragon rocketed out, grabbing the NightWing and snapping his neck in a single motion. The black dragon's body dropped like a stone, and there was an audible crunch when it hit the ground. Bullfrog winced. The orange dragon looked around, and Bullfrog identified it as a SkyWing. Her orange scales contrasted the obsidian black claws that ended in a point so sharp Bullfrog was sure it could cut through scales as easily as through water. Her long neck arched and two red horns twirled in a drill pattern unlike any other SkyWing he had seen before. Her head swung from side to side, searching. He slipped into a smaller cave underneath a short cliff, out of her sight. As he retreated deep into the cave, he saw another SkyWing fly back, and their harsh words echoed into his ears like a flow of lava.
"Falcon, how goes?" asked the orange one.
"Very well, Torch. The NightWings are dead," said the other one, who was a deep crimson. He had black horns and a cruel look to him. White patterns went along his wings, which gave a feathery look to him. Bullfrog was sure his personality made up for that. "Except one. The hybrid," snarled Falcon.
"He was the one we were supposed to kill! The others you said were practice!" shouted Torch.
"Easy. He is harder to kill than you think, Torch. You try fighting a physic, future-telling, ice-breathing frosty night dragon. But don't worry, he doesn't care about his NightWing friends. We can deal with him later."
"Explain that to Queen Fury," hissed Torch.
"I will, and you know her. She's forgiving. We'll live. Or you can hide pathetically, like you always do, while I take one for our team. I'm about fed up with that, by the way," replied Falcon.
"Fine! But you get the blame," snapped Torch.
The two SkyWings winged towards the faint, misty outline of the Sky Kingdom, hidden mostly by clouds and a light rain, which Bullfrog realized was coming down suddenly. The MudWing strained his ears, and heard Falcon muttering something sarcastic like, "You get the blame,". Bullfrog tore up a dead tree and brought it in the cave. Setting it alight, he watched the egg. A crack had appeared, whether he had made it or it had appeared he didn't know, or care. The firelight sparkled onto the egg. The crack widened, and then the silver casing split in two. Standing in the center, eyes flicking open and closed, was a black NightWing dragonet. Grey nubs ran down his back, which would evolve into spikes. His blunt claws scraped the ground, and then he stared straight at Bullfrog, the little golden eyes seeming to reach inside the MudWing and read his soul. Those golden eyes were weird, but Bullfrog didn't care. He was perfect. It was all worth it. Everything was good now, and it would always be. 
The little black dragonet looked up at him. Bullfrog thought of a name, or rather three. He had narrowed it down to three name possibilities all his years in NightWing captivity. It was either Darkthought, Shadowfinder or Mooncatcher. What does he seem like? Bullfrog racked his brain. Since almost all the NightWing names were lies, why not have a truth? Bullfrog smiled at his actual pondering of this.
He can't be Mooncatcher, since he can't catch the moons. He could find shadows, but...
Darkthought.
A fiery thought pierced his head, like a burst of SkyWing fire straight in his brain. His jaws opened wide, but no noise came out. It felt like his head was swimming in lava.
His name is Darkthought.
Again, it rang, cancelling out anything else in an raging firestorm. He realized he had closed his eyes, and opened them again. He noticed that the little dragonet's eyes were also closed, and his front paws were pressed against his temples. "Little one!" cried Bullfrog, but again the piercing voice tore into his mind.
DARKTHOUGHT! roared the voice. His name is Darkthought.''''
"Little one! Are you..."
There isn't enough time! Call him Darkthought... The voice was trembling, Bullfrog wasn't sure with fear or fury, and the little NightWing was becoming limp. "NO!" roared Bullfrog. He grabbed the dragonet's head, and shook it hard. "No..." Tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the stone floor. Stop this! He thought as loud as he could.
I heard MudWings were stupid, but I hadn't guessed this stupid! grumbled the voice for a second. The fiery intensity of the voice, even when quiet, was like a jagged, obsidian peak, flowing with rage and lava. For a split second, a sleek, dark red face with glowing orange eyes appeared in the lava flow, and then Bullfrog opened his eyes. Listen, MudWing. It's simple. Call him Darkthought. Just do it. Otherwise, he'll be dead, and everything I'v- I mean, you've worked for will be for NOTHING. The voice flared like a volcano erupting, then faded, and cool mud flowed back onto Bullfrog's mind. The signal grows weak. Don't forget...
"Darkthought?" he said, wonderingly.
A loud pop echoed through the air, and for a moment Bullfrog had the unnerving sense that reality had been bended the wrong way. Then the little dragonet's eyes snapped open, the gold . He squawked, and stumbled. Bullfrog held in a laugh, and instead snorted dust onto the ground. "My little Darkthought," he said proudly. No matter what, he would protect his dragonet. Even if the whole NightWing tribe, - No, even if all of Pyrrhia stood in his way, he would protect Darkthought.
== Chapter 1: The Vision ==
Five Years Later...
The rays of sunlight gently warmed Darkthought's face, changing the color of his scales from black to a light grey. Slowly, he blinked his eyes and sat up, yawning. The grey, colorless cave he lived in was same as always; the uneaten prey pile in the furthermost right corner, a collection of interesting tidbits he had collected in his little cave that branched off the main one, and Bullfrog, his MudWing father, snoring from the third cave. He stretched his wings, and watched the glittery silver scales reflect off the cave. 
What'll I have for breakfast today?  he wondered. A cool breeze caressed his face from outside the cave, and a longing filled him. When will he wake up? I want to go hunting. He turned and crept into his father's cave, watching the brown dragon rest. 
Smiling, Darkthought left him, spread his wings, and leaped out of the cave. He looked around, and spied a group of white sheep, merely dots on the green landscape, which was streaked with grey rocks. 
He folded in his wings, and dove towards the sheep, drawing a breath of fire as he extended his talons. The sheep bleated in terror and galloped down the hills, and almost made it... except for one. Darkthought's claws sunk into the wool, and the skin. He gripped and flew up towards his cave, snaking his tongue in and out, tasting the air. He heard rustling from Bullfrog's cave, and hurriedly he licked the blood off his claws. He breathed a gentle plume of flame onto the sheep's carcass, setting the wool alight and cooking the meat inside. Not that Bullfrog really cared if his meat was raw or cooked, but still...
"Darkthought! Where'd you get the sheep?" asked Bullfrog blearily. The big MudWing rubbed sleep from his eyes with the back of his talons, then focused his eyes on the NightWing dragonet, and the toasted body of a sheep next to him. 
"Where'd you go?" Darkthought knew that Bullfrog wouldn't care as much as he would if he was fully awake. Darkthought didn't answer. Bullfrog's gaze moved on the dead sheep; the big MudWing's brain was always partially on when he woke up.
"Can I have some?" The MudWing winced as his damaged leg rested on the floor. His left forearm had been scarred quite badly by another dragon, and his right wingtips were blackened and twisted. This had happened before Darkthought was born, and Bullfrog didn't want to talk about it. Also, Darkthought had realized, he didn't want to talk about anything from before he was born.
"Sure," said Darkthought. He tore off a leg and began gnawing on it, shoving the rest to Bullfrog. The MudWing happily ate it in four bites, consuming the entire thing before Darkthought had even swallowed his first chunk. Bullfrog then began to stretch casually, while Darkthought finished the leg of mutton.
 "Come on, Bullfrog!" shouted Darkthought, and he leaped out of the cave, roaring to the sky. Bullfrog followed, his giant brown wings stretching wide, catching large currents of air. "Where are you going?" shouted Bullfrog over the wind. 
"To the sea!" yelled Darkthought. He liked water, and it was just three hour's flight. The MudWing, though, had other ideas. 
"It's too far," Bullfrog yelled. "Maybe another day," he added as Darkthought's wings drooped. Darkthought flew back towards Jade Mountain, to spend the rest of his day inside the cave.
Two moons were rising opposite the setting sun, and Darkthought was watching them from a ledge, his head rested on his front legs. The moons were so beautiful, and he felt that he had some connection with them, and yet he didn't know what. He knew that Bullfrog didn't care as much as he did. The MudWing was messily devouring the rest of the dinner he had caught, and Darkthought could see the tusks and snout just out of the entrance. 
Why does he guard me so closely?  thought Darkthought grumpily. He shook his wings, and tried to mentally contain his annoyance. Shake out the thoughts, Darkthought. He's trying to protect you, he hissed in his mind. What did he know about himself? He was a NightWing, Bullfrog had the decency to teach him that, and that there were also MudWings, and SandWings and SeaWings and IceWings and SkyWings, all of which were different and special. He knew the basics, partially from Bullfrog's teachings and partially from the MudWing's mind.
I wonder what Darkthought's up to, came a random thought from Bullfrog, along with a torrent of jumbled information about the prey he was eating, how long until it was time to sleep, and whether there were any other dragons that moved out here. Other dragons, thought Darkthought. He settled down to sleep, tail curled around his grey talons as he etched random gorges on the rock. The world faded to black, and he entered the world of dreams.
Darkthought was in a forest. Birds were chirping, and he could see his imagination blossom into animals and plants that he knew didn't exist. He smiled. I wish I could live here, he thought. He reached out one talon and plucked a large crimson flower, twirling it between his claws. The fragrant scent wafted into his snout.
The forest suddenly shook with a powerful blast of wind, and Darkthought was hurled up, up, up into the sky, which had instantly changed from midday to night, with fissures of red lightning splitting the sky. He saw the rainforest below alight into raging fire, enveloping the greenery. Darkthought growled and looked up, seeing two moons were shining above, and the faint outline of the third was barely visible, all of them orange. All right, so the sky was the same as when he was awake. Darkthought stayed aloft with his wings, as steady drafts were keeping him in place, waiting to see what would happen next.
As if without warning, a loud pop echoed through his head, and he saw a SeaWing staring at him. The SeaWing had muscular arms, legs and wings, as well as a tail like a log.  He was a deep blue, like the color of the depths of the ocean, with glowing yellow phosphorescent scales. He seemed to radiate power and fear, and he was clutching a large sapphire in his right talons. "Hello?" Darkthought called out.
The SeaWing looked at him, and green eyes burned into Darkthought's head. The world swirled around him into a aquamarine palace, with stone that spiraled and splashed across in patterns gouged into the turquoise blocks. The SeaWing from before now wore a hood and a cape dyed black, with dark green patterns around the edges. His eyes glowed from his cover of darkness, and the fuzzy outline of dead dragons and dragonets laid around him. Darkthought froze in terror, and clenched his eyes shut tight as the dragon walked towards him. Moments passed, and then Darkthought saw that the SeaWing had walked through him, somehow. 
It's all a dream, it's all a dream, it's all a dream, Darkthought though frantically. He didn't like being a ghost if it included watching psychopathic murderer dragons slaughter roomfuls of dragonets. 
There was an emerald green SeaWing who was standing on a balcony, clutching two of her own dragonets and staring in terrified horror. She seemed to be whispering something to one of them, but it wasn't helping them calm down. Darkthought couldn't hear their thoughts either ; he had no idea what was going on. The entire world was silent inside his head; he didn't like that either. 
The SeaWing whose head was covered by the hood hissed menacingly, and released a pair of  metal discs with serrated spikes on the ends. The larger of the two dragonets bared his fangs and hissed, showing his pearly white talons scraping on the ground. The smaller seemed like he couldn't get any smaller and more compact, but he did.  The mother was frozen in place with fear. Darkthought could  hear worry and fear from her mind, as well as quick flashes of happier times: her and her dragonets playing in the sand, catching white crabs in the surf; swimming, catching fish and play-fighting underwater. Then it was gone, and it was all blood and death again. The hooded SeaWing whipped his head backward, as if to look for Darkthought, then their minds were blocked again. No matter how hard Darkthought tried, it was like an impenetrable wall of power had closed over their heads.
"Fly, Aqua." she whispered to her larger son. "Take Surf with you. Go!" 
The older son nodded, and spread his wings. The green eyes of the hooded SeaWing darted to him, but his focus remained mostly on the mother. Darkthought tried to move, but invisible restraints held him back. He roared furiously, but the invisible chains were unmoving. 
Murder gleamed in the eyes of the shrouded SeaWing, and his talons gripped the sea stars. He bent them into throwing position, with his claws twitching. The mother suddenly leaped forward, and yanked the stars out of the SeaWing's hands. 
"You will not take my dragonets, Hydra!" she roared, slashing at Hydra's snout. He hissed as blood fell to the floor, and Darkthought noticed that the sea was steadily rising, flooding the lower levels of the tower they were on. 
"Don't be a fool, Spray. You can't stop me." he paused, then the slash marks on his snout knitted together until there was no evidence she had ever attacked. Spray froze in even more terror, which Darkthought wouldn't have thought possible, and a thousand thoughts blasted into Darkthought's mind, as Hydra focused on healing his snout, his brow knit in concentration.
Spray's mind burst into his like a wave. He is an animus. The stories were right. They're all dead and it's all his fault, and I can't stop him. He's going to kill us all. It's all my fault. I never should have trusted him. Spray's thoughts overpowered him. Even hearing more than one dragon's mind at a time overwhelmed him, so he clutched his head in his talons and shook it to clear out the terrified dragon's thoughts. 
Hydra smiled cruelly, then hissed, "Spears, pin Spray to the wall by impaling her through the ankles, wrists, and her neck. Make sure not to hit anything vital." 
 Darkthought felt a chill run down his spine. Animus. He'd never heard that word before, and yet it seemed awfully familiar. He couldn't place his talon on it. Something else Bullfrog didn't tell me, he thought. Well, he was going to see what an animus could do, right now. Poor Spray, whoever she is, his brain whispered.  He already had half a guess what was going to happen next.
Darkthought noticed racks of spears that he didn't see before, and his eyes widened, although he had a pretty good idea of what they were going to do. The spears flew up into the air, as if being held by invisible dragons. They angled themselves at Spray's wrists, ankles and neck, obeying Hydra's orders completely. Animus, animus, animus. His brain was spinning, as the word wormed itself into his head.  He opened his eyes, which he realized he had closed instinctively. Unearthly screams came from Spray's direction, and Darkthought scrunched his eyes shut again. He didn't want to see, he didn't want to see... but he opened his eyes and saw anyway. Apparently, he couldn't escape his view as spectator. Spray was five feet up a large pillar, with narwhal-horn spears through her ankles, wrists and to the left of her windpipe. Blood trickled steadily down from where the spears had impaled her. "You monster!" roared Aqua, keeping Surf in between his wings. The little dragonet was crying uncontrollably, whimpering and curling his tail in a flat ball
"Oh, shut up," grumbled Hydra. He flicked his talons, and Aqua's mouth snapped shut. "Now, Spray, you know the truth. Are you happy? It took you long enough. Maybe certain dragons don't want to be followed everywhere they go, just because a pest wants to see if they're an animus,"  There was the word again. Darkthought shivered. It felt like a missing piece to a puzzle, and he was almost knowing where to put it. Aqua lunged at Hydra, but he pushed his hand out towards the dragonet and Aqua was flung back, slamming into the pillar Spray was impaled to. "Son..." croaked Spray weakly. Aqua crumpled.
Darkthought felt a hate, deep and strong, rise to his heart. How DARE this dragon hurt this innocent family! Unless they're not innocent, he thought. Still. It wasn't a fair fight at all: a weakened dragonet versus a fully grown SeaWing that's an animus, whatever that was, plus weaponry. He felt rage fill him, and he shouted, "Let me out!"
To his surprise, he heard clanking and the invisible barriers fell away, but his fury took over again. He bared his fangs, and roared. Hydra, Aqua, Spray and Surf jumped, and all four SeaWings looked at Darkthought for the first time, Hydra's eyes glinting dangerously. Darkthought froze, recalculating his plan. I didn't really expect the barrier to go out, did I? And does this mean I'm an... animus? Whatever it is, it looks like I can control stuff. Hmmm. I can work with this. The SeaWings were staring at him like he had popped out of nowhere. Well, he had, actually, but it also looked like Hydra was going to impale him next. The huge, menacing SeaWing shook himself out of the trance first, and bared his teeth. "Oh ho, little NightWing. How'd you get here?" his voice was smooth and slippery, but his eyes betrayed his deepest intentions. Behind him, Aqua had snapped out of it too, and was eyeing Hydra while also watching Darkthought. Darkthought read Aqua's mind before it happened. Apparently Hydra's mind couldn't focus on him and block the minds of everyone in the room at the same time, if Darkthought was right and it was Hydra who was blocking his mind reading.
Hydra howled in pain and rage as Aqua sank his talons into his back. Quickly, Darkthought spread his wings and flew up to Spray, tearing out the five spears with a little trouble and an unnecessary amount of screaming on Spray's part. He ignored her shouts of pain and let her drop the short distance to the ground, where she crouched. Blood flowed, creating dark red pools on the floor. Darkthought winced. Wait, Hydra healed himself... could I heal Spray? She'd be dead in a minute, so no harm in trying. He grasped her throat: that was most important. "Throat, heal." 
Darkthought couldn't help hiding his delight as the wound grew over and disappeared. Spray looked utterly shocked. Darkthought rushed to her ankles, grabbing them and saying, "Heal." They quickly vanished as well. After her wrists were all right too, he let her go, and grasped one of the spears, cleaning off Spray's blood. Turning to Aqua and Hydra, he realized that the large SeaWing had pinned the dragonet to the floor. Various cuts and bruises were present on both Hydra and Aqua. Darkthought grinned; the powerful animus wasn't completely immune, or he hadn't had enough time to heal. Hydra was cursing as his long black talons raked on the ground. Darkthought hefted the spear in his talons, charged, and heaved it through the back of Hydra's skull.
Darkthought sleepily opened his eyes, and then jumped up. The sun was overhead; he must have slept for a while. There wasn't any sign of Bullfrog, so he swooped down to the cave. No one there. That's odd. He glanced around, and didn't see anything. "Bullfrog!" he called.
No answer. Bullfrog never left without telling Darkthought. Something must have happened. He rushed into the eating cave, and saw only the rotted remains of the sheep from last night. He went into his room, then into Bullfrog's. Darkthought's scales turn to ice, and his heart weighed as much as a mountain, and his claws felt like they were made of lead. There, on the burning reed rug that Darkthought had made for Bullfrog on the MudWing's birthday, was the body of Bullfrog.
== Chapter 2: The Soup Kitchen ==
Sunwatcher was a strange dragonet, everyone said. He had a feeling it was true, unfortunately.
His scales were very weird. His hunting instincts were all wrong. Although being, in some sense, a NightWing, he was raised in the Sand Kingdom, abandoned in the streets. And his only friend was (mostly) a SandWing. He was guessing this was not the most usual NightWing way of life.
He stretched from his position on the crumbled remains of an old sandstone wall, wings spread, catching the last fragments of the sun. His friend, Sandstorm, was pacing on the sand, flicking his tail at lizards and looking curiously at a large, black buzzard eyeing them from the crumbled ramparts.
Sandstorm flinched in surprise as a lizard scampered up his arm and raced down his back. At the last moment, the dragonet flicked up his barbed tail and the lizard went flying in the sky, where a buzzard suddenly took action, swooping and catching the lizard in its beak. Sandstorm kicked some sand, grumbling, as the buzzard flew into the sky.
The sun set, casting rays of pink and orange in the sky. Sunwatcher folded in his wings, and glided to the dune below, where Sandstorm was glaring at the disappearing speck of the buzzard.
"I'm done," Sunwatcher announced. He spread his talons in the sand, letting the warmth of it soak in. Sandstorm moved his sight to Sunwatcher.
Perfectly timed, signed Sandstorm. I had just finished staring furiously at that eagle. He nodded his head at the buzzard, now almost gone. Sunwatcher squinted to watch the bird fly. Heat waves swam on the horizon, now fading as the sky turned dark blue.
Sandstorm had been abandoned on the streets of the Scorpion Den, just like Sunwatcher. But while Sunwatcher's egg hatched in the Den, Sandstorm was already hatched and about two years old. His parents, who were quite wealthy advisors to the queen, had abandoned him because he couldn't hear or speak, although he could read lips and used sign language very well. When Sandstorm first signed that story to Sunwatcher, Sunwatcher had felt like saying some very unkind things to Sandstorm's parents.
"The soup kitchen is opening up soon," Sunwatcher said. His stomach growled and grumbled. "I'm hungry."
Sandstorm nodded. Me too, he signed. I hope we get there before all the others.
He spread his sand-colored wings, and took off, practicing clawing at the air as he flew. Sunwatcher launched off beside Sandstorm, looking at the cactus and sand dunes until the Scorpion Den appeared. Dragons, mostly SandWings, flew in and out, carrying bags of vegetables and herbs, prey and other items. The tents set up almost all had lights in them, and Sunwatcher heard bartering and shouting from inside them. Sandstorm alighted on a crumbled stone path, his wings and tail automatically drawing in close to him to avoid the many SandWing barbed tails that were dragging along the ground or held in up in the air, and to make sure there were no accidents with his own. Sunwatcher landed behind him, lifting his wings up as a horde of tiny dragonets ran through.
Watch your pockets, Sandstorm signed, flicking his tail at a SandWing dragonet slipping under his wing innocently. Sunwatcher tucked his glowing wings in, gave the dragonet a look, and handed him a few coins. Then he followed Sandstorm, who was bustling though the dense river of dragons, until he saw his friend disappearing down an alleyway. Sunwatcher ducked under a large MudWing and followed the SandWing's trailing tail.
Sunwatcher ducked over two SandWings carrying a large wooden crate, then followed Sandstorm down an alleyway. Looking around, he assessed the dangers of various street dragons that were eyeing them suspiciously, grumbling and methodically sharpening their claws. Sandstorm seemed to take no notice of the other dragons around them, but turned onto a quieter street just as a horde of dragonets scrambled by, responding to a metal gong being sounded at the soup kitchen. Sunwatcher realized that there was already a huge line, full of dragonets and dragons stepping on feet, treading on tails and hitting each other with their wings. He would have to rely on no-good trickery to get there before all the food was gone.
"I'm going in," he said to Sandstorm, who nodded and ambled off into the crowd of dragonets, whistling as he sidled up to a SkyWing talking with a SandWing. Slowly walking by, he quietly 'tripped', and unclasped the SkyWing's anklet quickly with his right two talons while getting up. Sandstorm slipped away without the large dragon noticing anything, disappearing into the market stands. Sunwatcher grinned; Sandstorm was the best pickpocket of all the dragonets in the Scorpion Den he knew.
The long, thin, dark red SkyWing continued talking without noticing, grumbling as his whip-thin tail lashed on the cobblestones. He had blood-red scales with dark red patterns and black claws and horns. His eyes were a frightening orange, almost glowing with malevolent light. His SandWing friend nodded, then stalked away while the SkyWing swung his neck around to look at the grubby dragonets with his malevolent eyes, which landed on Sunwatcher. Curiosity and realization seemed to shoot throughout the entire dragon's body. Sunwatcher realized that his scales were glowing brightly like the sun, like they always did at day. Newcomers always thought that was weird, although usually he tried to get as dirty as possible to avoid too many strange stares. Yes, my scales match whatever the sky looks like. But is that my fault? I ask you.
He slipped under the wings of a group of dragonets arguing gruffly to avoid the glare of the large SkyWing, whose malicious, glowing orange gaze was moved to other dragons in the crowd. That SkyWing is weird. He notices a few dragonets in a huge crowd but doesn't notice Sandstorm snatching one of his anklets? Sunwatcher decided to avoid him. Rich dragons in the Scorpion Den either didn't last long or were important and had a reputation for dealing very efficiently with meddlers. Whoever it was, Sunwatcher knew he didn't want to meet him.
He crawled under a few more dragons, but was blocked by a spiky tail swinging back and forth. He looked up at the tail's owner, whose eyes were darting around at everyone - and everything - else. He wasn't dirty or permanently scarred, and he had an aura of safety that made Sunwatcher know instantly he was new as well. He was seemingly a NightWing, with a silver, carved armband around his right wrist. His silver scales seemed closer to blue-white than most NightWings Sunwatcher had seen, and his eyes were unusually blue. If he was a hybrid, that came as no surprise; hybrids were not uncommon in the Scorpion Den, even grown-up ones like this one. Just standing next to him made Sunwatcher feel cold and all shivery.
Sunwatcher dodged under the extra dark blue IceWing spikes and slipped past as the hybrid glanced around, frostbreath coming out in little hints. Shivering, Sunwatcher slipped and twisted and turned through the line, squeezing toward the entrance. And there it was. Twin oak doors, as high as a fully-grown dragon, surrounded the large circular sandstone building that was the soup kitchen. Torches and square, barred windows ringed the walls, but the entire roof was gone, covered by a crazy patchwork of red and yellow and brown rough cloth stitched hastily together. The uproar of shouting, clanging and roaring was almost deafening from outside. One of the two guards at either end of the door nodded at Sunwatcher, and he slipped inside to the thundering chaos inside.
A circle of wooden tables and benches surrounded a large mosaic on the floor, of oases and palm trees and SandWings were depicted flying in the sky, or battling, with their tail barbs poised like scorpions. A large yellow sun mosaic was in the middle of it all, encompassed by the names of SandWing queens.
There was a long slab of tall wooden benches that had chefs bringing out large pots of vegetable and meat soups, with platters of vultures and scavengers almost completely gone. The queen of the SandWings, Venom, wasn't completely heartless (although she also was not the kindest queen the SandWings ever had), and the soup kitchens and orphanages were well-made, but the poor staff could not manage the horde of dragonets.
Sunwatcher lifted his talons as a live scavenger jumped out of the kitchen door's window, scurried up a SandWing's leg and up to her head, jumped onto a plate of fried grasshoppers, and slid to the floor. It made some ferocious squeaking noises at the fray of dragons, then a fork flew out of nowhere and narrowly missed it. The little creatures picked up the fork and stabbed a SkyWing in the foot.
The ruby-red dragonet howled and grabbed the fork, with the scavenger hanging on for dear life. Sunwatcher slipped a few sausages off the SkyWing's plate while the dragonet was busy throwing the fork into another dragon's soup, with the scavenger screaming as two dragonets leaped for it.
While the roaring ensued, Sunwatcher dropped a bit of meat stew in his bowl, then sat at one of the tables. The three SandWings shot looks at him of varying degrees of friendliness, from amazement to undeserved resent, and then all three got up and moved, muttering and shooting glances at him over their shoulders.
Sunwatcher picked at his food, observing all the dragons warring and throwing chunks of mystery meat and bowls of soup that splattered on the floor or sent silverware flying. He watched them pickpocket each other and flap their wings, knocking all the food off, or face off in the mosaic center with their scorpion tails raised while the others cheered and threw stuff. Right now, two of the dragonets were circling each other, jabbing with their tails raised in quick feints, but always retracting before the other could make contact. From all around, dragonets cheered and booed and hissed and threw forks and spoons and bowls, howling. One of the two dragonets was a MudWing, facing off with a SandWing with a long scar down his tail. They were already bleeding from several cuts, but the SandWing didn't seem to have been able to make contact with his stinger tail yet.
The MudWing growled and swiped at the SandWing's face, but the sandy dragonet dodged and cut a section of the tip of the brown dragonet's wing. Dragonets all around howled with delight and disgust, and Sunwatcher winced. The MudWing roared in pain and slashed at the SandWing, leaving a long trail of bleeding scars. "SWAAAAAMMP!" roared the surrounding dragonets.
The SandWing hissed dangerously and raised his stinger tail. He slashed to one side, and as Swamp dodged left to block, his stinger tail came to the right.
"LOOK OUT!" roared three dragons at once, including Sunwatcher. Swamp ducked as the stinger tail swept over him, then clawed at the SandWing's leg. The pale yellow dragonet blasted a bout of fire straight onto one of Swamp's wings. "SNAAAKE!" shouted most of the SandWings watching.
Swamp shrieked and beat the flames with his front legs. Snake sat on his haunches and a crooked grin broke through his face as he watched the MudWing frantically put out the fire with a metal ladle. Blackened tendrils of cooked wing were spread in a starburst shape across Swamp's left wing. The MudWing growled, low in his throat, and stalked towards Snake, who leaped to his feet and readied his stinger tail. They stood there for a long moment, fury flashing through their eyes, waiting for the other to make the next move. All around them, dragonets froze and stared with curious, furious and interested eyes.
Just as they both leapt, fire spurting and claws lashing, the doors exploded inwards, revealing the thin, dark red SkyWing from before. He landed on one of the tables, fire spurting from his nose and leaking from his mouth. His eyes seemed to be actually glowing, which convinced Sunwatcher to hide beneath the table.
The SkyWing glared around at all of them. Swamp and Snake had both frozen midfight, and were staring at the dark red dragon in terror. Everyone else looked petrified as well.
"Where is he?" growled the SkyWing. His tail lashed, splitting a bench down the middle. Sunwatcher realized the tip of his tail was dipped in iron, which was probably both a weapon and armor defending his weak spot on the tail. "Where is he?" he growled.
"Hey!" Two SandWing guards flew in, gasping. They bristled and pointed their spears at the SkyWing. "Where are you going?"
The dark red dragon flicked his tail slightly, and both guards blinked, then collapsed on the ground, dead.
Everyone was silent now.
Uh oh, thought Sunwatcher. He needed to find Sandstorm and get out of here NOW.
The long SkyWing growled. "Where IS he?" he snarled.
"Um, who?" asked a shaking voice from the back of the crowd finally.
The malevolent gaze of the SkyWing shifted from dragon to dragon. "The NightWing with the golden scales," he said finally. "What is his name, and where is he?"
There were several coughs, shuffles, and side glances at Sunwatcher's empty table. The SkyWing's eyes also travelled to the empty table, flicking over everything. In a second he'll look under the table, Sunwatcher thought. He thought furiously in that one second of survival. Is this stupid?
Probably.
Will this get me killed?
Most likely.
Okay, let's do it.
He leaped up from underneath the table, spread his wings to take off, knocking over the table. He flicked his tail to Sandstorm, who he had noticed sneaking in behind the SkyWing. Sandstorm agreeably picked up a bowl and threw it at another dragonet, hitting him on the back of the head. The SandWing roared and flung a chunk of soggy mystery meat into the crowd. In three seconds, it had turned into a food brawl. The SkyWing rose up above it all, glaring at Sunwatcher. Rage smoke covered his whole head.
"NOW!" roared Sunwatcher to Sandstorm. The SandWing, thankfully, was looking up at him, and flew up beside him to the tapestry ceiling.
"NO!" roared the SkyWing, beating after them on powerful wings. 
Sandstorm blasted a ring of fire at the cloth roof, which immediately caught fire and covered the red dragon, who roared in pain and fury. He sank below, covered in flaming carpets. Shrieks of pain echoed from within. Sunwatcher didn't look back.
Sandstorm signed, Time to run,  and they flew away into the sky.
== Chapter 3: The Revenge Plan ==
Darkthought's roar was unlike anything he'd ever heard before. To him, it seemed like it split the sky, tore up the ground, and destroyed his whole world for the second time that day.
Bullfrog's body was slowly disintegrating into ashes, but for Darkthought all of existence was crumbling along with it. Painful flashes of memories tore through his head; Bullfrog coming back in the pouring rain with a soaked, shaggy goat corpse, Darkthought and Bullfrog singing songs around their small, dismal fire at night. Hunting together, Bullfrog's promise of a trip to the sea, learning about all the dragon tribes, and Bullfrog rescuing of Darkthought's egg from the Night Kingdom. The NightWing dragonet wept for a long, long time.
Then he dried his tears and faced the sunlight pouring into the cave entrance. The orange morning sun was rising over the mountain range. His helpless sadness filled him like a cup of salt water, but he had mourned. Now he needed to find who had killed his father.
Bullfrog's body was both burned and slashed. Three cuts penetrated his throat, and another ten leaving long, bleeding lines through his underbelly. One of his wings was completely torn, and his tail was cut all the way off. His teeth also appeared to be missing, which was odd.
Darkthought studied the claw marks. Long and ragged around the edges, like a saw, or... an IceWing's talons. But they weren't all like that; they had a bit of his claw shape too. An idea came to him. An IceWing-NightWing hybrid, Darkthought thought furiously. Perhaps even the one Bullfrog told me about in his escape. If that was the one, he knew who to kill to avenge Bullfrog's death.
I have to go as soon as possible. There's nothing left for me here.
He stalked to his bedroom, where he found nothing much that he wanted with him. He took his satchel, and filled it with a few of his favorite and useful scrolls; Dangerous Mushrooms and How to Find Them, A Guide to the Customs of the Seven Tribes, Legend of the Darkstalker. Besides that, he also added a container of water and some prey. He walked out of his cave, past the dining cave, then stopped. He dropped his satchel on the ground and walked in front of Bullfrog's body. A wave of gut-wrenching sadness washed through him.
He gently picked up Bullfrog's head, and took off the necklace the MudWing wore. It was a smooth, worn circle of silver, with a moonstone attached. It fitted Bullfrog nicely, but was a little too large for Darkthought. The dragonet thought about that. If he was going to leave, he wanted something sentimental for him to remember Bullfrog by. The MudWing's necklace seemed like a good idea. He thought for a time, then remembered something.
In that dream I had, he thought, with the SeaWings. That was — I was...an... animus, wasn't I?
He reached with tense muscles towards the necklace. He clutched it, then said aloud with his eyes closed, "I enchant this necklace to fit me, and also," he paused for a moment, cleared his throat and continued. "And also, to remind me of Bullfrog and my whole life here. Never let me forget. Make me remember him with happy memories." He felt a shifting on his scales, like a snake coiling tighter around his throat.
He opened his eyes. It had worked. The necklace felt perfect against his ebony scales. And now this life's memories were installed permanently. The grieving sadness lifted. He felt ready.
Time to fly. Time to avenge my father.
Goodbye, Bullfrog. I'll miss you.
He clipped the satchel shut, spread his wings, and flew off into the moonlight.
Three Hours Later...
Darkthought soon realized that his plan had quite a few flaws in it.
For starters, he had no idea where the Night Kingdom was, and he suspected the NightWings were not eager to share that location either, based on what Bullfrog had described it as. Also, he didn't see a lot of maps growing up, so he really didn't know where Jade Mountain, where he grew up, was actually located in Pyrrhia.
Guess I'll just keep on going until I find somewhere, he thought, a little excitedly. Rain clouds started to gather, and soon afterwards rain poured down, sending his excitement plummeting down to the craggy mountain rocks below. He held his satchel underneath his body to shield it from the rain, which was now in allegiance with the bellowing wind. He flared his wings to stay aloft, then a suddenly whirl of wind from behind him started up. I never actually had experience in storms, he realized. Bullfrog herded me inside. And for good reason. It was actually a bit like what he imagined swimming to be like. Well, swimming when also getting pounded by waves.
He was going along fine until a roaring from behind informed him a second before it happened that a gust was building up. It flipped him upside down, then huge invisible talons seemed to grab him and throw him down. Rain splattered his wings and face. His satchel opened up, and he saw all the contents plummet. He just saw Legends of the Darkstalker vaporized by a bolt of lightning before another whirl of wind threw him upwards, which gave him an idea.
What if I go so high up I'm above the storm?
The idea was crazy. But it might work. Inside the cloud, if he flew up there, he would probably meet a highly painful end. Although, it might be an improvement... but he couldn't think like that. I have to try.
He spread his wings and soared upwards, beating as hard as he could as he reached the cloud. Purple streaks of lightning flashed, illuminating the sky for a second, then everything went dark with a booming roar a few seconds later as the thunder rolled in. Darkthought slammed his eyes shut and flew as hard as he could. Rain whipped his face. He lost track of time, flying up, but suddenly he felt strangely peaceful. He opened his eyes.
He was flying above the clouds.
It was amazing, like a whole other world. Wisps of clouds were floating above him, and the thick, dense storm below seemed so solid he could stand on it. The sky was dark, dark blue, streaked with shades of orange and pink-purple.
If I ever get down, I'll have to remember this.
The faint ambience of rain and thunder echoed from below, but right now he didn't worry about that. When he found the edge of the storm, he would fly down and get his bearings. But while he was up here, he was going to enjoy this while he could. This also seemed like a great time to try to think how to find the dragon he was looking for.
Since he was part of the band that followed Bullfrog, he must live in the Night Kingdom. He also seemed to have a SkyWing target on his back, since Bullfrog told me that those two SkyWings were supposed to kill them. So maybe I could ask the SkyWings and see if they know anything about it.
There was a pause while he flew, and then his eyes spotted the edge of the storm. Sandy dunes rolled as far as he could see from up here, with a lot of cacti and withered bushes. Darkthought pulled into a dive, and winced as the blazing heat enveloped him. He landed, the sand catching in the grooves of his claws, making his talons itch.
As he sat down to pick the grains out, his focus zeroed in on the simple task until a heavy hand clapped over his shoulder. He felt the hiss of three dragons all around him. A deep, cruel voice said, "Well. What do we have here?"
Then he felt a sharp impact hit him on the back of the head, and everything went black.
== Chapter 4: Escape ==
After a few minutes of flying, Sandstorm landed on an ornate, tiled roof. Sunwatcher joined him, ignoring the stares of a few passing dragons. The wafting scent of roasted camels and incense faded into the sky, where the bright, golden sun matched Sunwatcher's glowing golden scales.
Who was that guy? signed Sandstorm. He glanced behind them, but no one was there.
"I don't know," said Sunwatcher. "Whoever he was, he did not like us."
Yes, thank you, signed Sandstorm, pinching his snout. I figured that part out. He examined the far off building of the soup kitchen, now currently being subjected to a horde of dragons pouring in and a cloud of dragonets flying out. Smoke was billowing out too, and large carts with barrels of water were being hoisted inside by burly dragons, shouting orders to each other.
"So what do we do now?" asked Sunwatcher. Honestly, he didn't feel like anything was quite safe here anymore. The weight of the two dead guards hung on his shoulders, even though he knew it wasn't his fault. "Who knows what that SkyWing is wanting from us. Does he want to kill us?"
Sandstorm considered this for a moment, then finally signed, I don't know. But I do know I do not feel safe here anymore. I think we should run. Somewhere safer. Perhaps I could find my parents. Perhaps they would give me a second chance. I've always wanted to try.
Sunwatcher couldn't help feeling doubt. If Sandstorm's parents really had abandoned him after hatching, he didn't think they would want him back. But it was worth a shot, and it would make his friend happy, and it would get them away from the SkyWing.
"Sure," said Sunwatcher uncertainly. The roars of the SkyWing were audible even from here, along with occasional blasts of fire from the kitchen. They weren't safe in the Scorpion Den, that was for sure.
Wind buffeted Sunwatcher's wings, and he drew them in. "All right," he said again. He spread his wings and tried to look confident, which was not easy given their current situation.
Sandstorm nodded, and took off. Sunwatcher followed, adjusting to the freak air currents that had hit entering the desert. Oh, by the way, Sandstorm added, They used to be advisors. I'm not sure if they still are, what with the whole thing about me and whatever other evil they've done to the world.
"You're not evil," Sunwatcher protested, shocked. How could Sandstorm call himself evil?
Sandstorm grinned, but his eyes were wary and cautious, a way they never had been before, guarding his hope as if it was a fragile jar and his parents were about to smash it with hammers. His mother and father had earned their reputation of evil in Sunwatcher's scroll because of the way they'd treated Sandstorm as a tiny dragonet.
But now Sandstorm would get to see them up close, and he had no idea how they'd react. For all Sunwatcher had heard, he half expected them to stab Sandstorm through the heart on the spot with their tails, then laugh and continue on with their day. No matter what would happen, though, Sandstorm would always find a friend in Sunwatcher, that was for sure. He remembered their conversation when Sandstorm told him about his parents, the helpless rage he felt.
They threw me out, Sandstorm had signed. Like I was a broken vase.
They had met a few months ago, but already they were best friends. Eating crocodile in the gulleys, Sunwatcher had explained his strange egg, and Sandstorm in return told his story.
I was hatched as the destined advisor to the queen, Sandstorm signed. He curled his tail around a weed growing out of the cobblestone road. My parents were excited; their son was going to be an advisor! Perhaps even destined to become king, if they were lucky and I obedient and well-mannered, maybe they could have matched me to a princess.
Sunwatcher had tried to contain his snort of laughter. He could never, never, imagine King Sandstorm. But he also felt respect for this hud. Here Sandstorm could have been a noble, perhaps even fathered the next queens, but he decided to become a homeless orphan on the streets of the Scorpion Den.
Of course, Sandstorm continued, their excitement lasted about ten seconds once they realized my disabilities; no hearing, no talking. Then they were always complaining. "Oh, we wish you had been born a regular SandWing. Whoever would want you? You have no use in our vague and secret plans." After a year of griping and anger, I decided I'd had enough. I flew off in the night, leaving my disapproving parents and the haughty snouts of all the SandWing royals far behind me, for good." He had smiled and drawn abstract patterns in the mud. Sunwatcher felt like he would have done the same, but sooner.
Sunwatcher decided he didn't like Sandstorm's parents, and would not like to meet them ever. If he did, it would be a bad day for Sandstorm's parents (or possibly Sunwatcher, as Sandstorm's father was the highest general in Queen Venom's army and his mother was twice as vicious and both were merciless in battle). But Sandstorm had been through more than Sunwatcher ever had.
From that day forth, they protected each other, knowing how valuable friends could be in this unsafe and dangerous world.
After a day of long, weary flight, Sandstorm dove and flicked his tail for Sunwatcher to follow. Sunwatcher blinked away tears as the wind whipped his face, and saw a blue spot on the desert grow into an oasis, with a single leaning palm tree. A ramshackle tent was supporting the cracked trunk, and leaves were shed on the circular thatch roof. A pulley system made of ominously creaking poles and ropes hauled buckets in and out of the oasis, and into a back door of the house.
Sandstorm landed in the sand, spraying the stuff everywhere. A good chunk landed in the oasis with a splash. Sunwatcher landed behind Sandstorm a bit more neatly when the door creaked open and a slightly terrifying dragon walked out.
He was a male SandWing with pale yellow scales, but he had darker shades along his spine and in jagged patterns on his wings. His curved horns curved quite low down, so it looked like they lay flat against his neck. The horns were also singed in some places, with the tip of one broken off. Several of his teeth were also missing. He had a long tear along one wing, and an irregularly long tail. He grinned crookedly when he saw Sandstorm and Sunwatcher coming.
"Well," he said, his grin widening, "This is new. We don't get many visitors out in the deep desert oases!" He stepped out into the sand, spreading his wings to catch the sun. His barb tail slithered in the sand like a snake, leaving a trail in the sand.
"Hello," said Sunwatcher. "We're here for directions, and some water, please."
The older dragon bowed his head, still smiling. "Well, we don't get a whole lotta water out here, that's for sure, unfortunately." He considered them for a moment, his grin fading. Then he scanned the sky. His black eyes widened for a second, then he quickly said, 
"But- but what I do have, I'll share with a couple of lost dragonets. Come in!" he flapped his wings to usher them inside. Sunwatcher followed, glad to be out of the heat of the blazing sun.
Inside, it was deliciously cool. A small bamboo bed was neatly made, and cabinets of palm wood were set up haphazardly. Half-coconuts full of water lay in rows on top of the main desk, and Sunwatcher heard goats braying from outside.
Do you keep goats? asked Sandstorm. The older SandWing bustled around, humming as he opened cabinets and took out supplies. Sandstorm looked at Sunwatcher.
"Um, do you keep goats?" Sunwatcher inquired. He forgot that not everyone knew sign language. The older dragon nodded, still busy with food. "Yep," he grunted, tipping his head towards a small, circular wooden table. "My father kept goats. It's a long tradition that's been goin' for generations. Have a seat. Food's a-coming."
Sandstorm and Sunwatcher seated themselves while the SandWing laid out three bowls made of split coconuts, into which he poured a small white grain and some tough carrots. He also dumped a small, torn section of camel into each of their bowls, and once they were served, he dumped a third serving onto the table and began to eat along with them.
"What's this stuff?" asked Sunwatcher, grabbing one of the white grains in a pincer movement with his two front claws.
"Oh, that's rice," said the dragon. "Weird stuff, I know, but it's fully delicious and quite cheap too!" He nodded to a large rucksack dumped in the corner, labelled RICE. "Now," he said, leaning forward on his stool, "What brings ye here?"
"We're heading to the palace," said Sunwatcher cautiously. As not-evil as this dragon is, he didn't know how much he could trust him. "To see... our mother." He glanced sideways at Sandstorm. It was his quest; he should monitor the amount of information was given to random dragons.
"Ah." The dragon nodded. He considered something for a moment, then glanced out the window, and returned grinning. "Well, introductions first. My name's Cactus. And who might you two be?"
"My name's Sunwatcher." Sunwatcher glanced at Sandstorm. 'And this is Sandstorm."
"Really?" Cactus' eyes gleamed, as if he'd just won a bet and discovered a gold ring on the ground at the same time. "The Sandstorm?"
Uh oh, signed Sandstorm, which pretty much summed up Sunwatcher's thoughts. Cactus's role here was starting to make a horrible kind of sense.
"Yep," mused Cactus. "You're wanted, you know. By the advisors! Desert and Diamondback. Big bounty you've got, son." He stood up suddenly, knocking over all the rice bowls and shaking the table.
Look out, signed Sandstorm. He raised his venomous tail warningly.
"Please don't," said Sunwatcher, already guessing what Cactus was about to do.
"Sorry, my little friends," said Cactus. "But the queen's will is not to be trifled with."
He grabbed the entire table and lifted it up, cracking Sandstorm in the jaw. Then he heaved the entire thing at Sunwatcher.
Sunwatcher slid under at the last second, ignoring the sound of the table cracking the wall behind him. Sandstorm got up and bared his teeth. Cactus chuckled. "Y'all pretty good at this," he said, "But I've gotten years o' fighting experience. You ain't no match for me."
Sandstorm leaped onto a chair and arched his tail. We should go NOW. Knock him out, he said with a flick. Sunwatcher knew he really said GO. NOW. HIT. Since it was hard to form complete sentences with only his tail, but he knew well enough what it meant. "It's over, Cactus," growled Sunwatcher. "Let us go and we won't hurt you."
Cactus barked a bitter laugh. "Ha! That's funny. They've already hurt me, little dragonet. And that pain convinced me that you don't mess with the queen." He lunged, tail ready to strike. He had a slightly maniacal look in his eye now.
"I was promis'd no more revenge for what I did. An' I am about to earn it." He took a deep breath and roared dangerously. "Off to the prison, mates. Night-night."
From the fold of his wing, a dart tube materialized, and then a dart appeared in Sandstorm's shoulder, and Sunwatcher's neck.
Sunwatcher looked down at it. Then darkness enfolded him in its vast wings, and everything was gone, with only the faintest echo of Cactus's laugh and the clinking of chains.After a few minutes of flying, Sandstorm landed on an ornate, tiled roof. Sunwatcher joined him, ignoring the stares of a few passing dragons. The wafting scent of roasted camels and incense faded into the sky, where the bright, golden sun matched Sunwatcher's glowing golden scales.
Who was that guy? signed Sandstorm. He glanced behind them, but no one was there.
"I don't know," said Sunwatcher. "Whoever he was, he did not like us."
Yes, thank you, signed Sandstorm, pinching his snout. I figured that part out. He examined the far off building of the soup kitchen, now currently being subjected to a horde of dragons pouring in and a cloud of dragonets flying out. Smoke was billowing out too, and large carts with barrels of water were being hoisted inside by burly dragons, shouting orders to each other.
"So what do we do now?" asked Sunwatcher. Honestly, he didn't feel like anything was quite safe here anymore. The weight of the two dead guards hung on his shoulders, even though he knew it wasn't his fault. "Who knows what that SkyWing is wanting from us. Does he want to kill us?"
Sandstorm considered this for a moment, then finally signed, I don't know. But I do know I do not feel safe here anymore. I think we should run. Somewhere safer. Perhaps I could find my parents. Perhaps they would give me a second chance. I've always wanted to try.
Sunwatcher couldn't help feeling doubt. If Sandstorm's parents really had abandoned him after hatching, he didn't think they would want him back. But it was worth a shot, and it would make his friend happy, and it would get them away from the SkyWing.
"Sure," said Sunwatcher uncertainly. The roars of the SkyWing were audible even from here. They weren't safe in the Scorpion Den, that was for sure. Wind buffeted Sunwatcher's wings, and he drew them in.
"All right," Sunwatcher repeated. He spread his wings and tried to look confident, which was not easy. Sandstorm nodded, and took off. Sunwatcher followed, adjusting to the freak air currents that had hit. Oh, by the way, Sandstorm added, They used to be advisors. I'm not sure if they still are, what with the whole thing about me and whatever other evil they've done to the world.
"You're not evil," Sunwatcher protested, shocked. How could Sandstorm call himself evil?
Sandstorm grinned, but his eyes were wary and cautious, a way they never had been before, guarding his hope as if it was a fragile jar. His parents had earned their reputation of evil in Sunwatcher's scroll because of the way they'd treated Sandstorm as a tiny dragonet. But now Sandstorm would get to see them up close, and he had no idea how they'd react. For all Sunwatcher had heard, he half expected them to stab Sandstorm through the heart on the spot with their tails. No matter what would happen, though, Sandstorm would always find a friend in Sunwatcher.
They threw me out, Sandstorm had signed. Like I was a broken vase.
Sunwatcher remembered the first time he had heard Sandstorm's story. They had met a few months ago, but already they were best friends. Eating crocodile in the gulleys, Sunwatcher had explained his strange egg, and Sandstorm in return told his story.
I was hatched as the destined advisor to the queen, Sandstorm signed. He curled his tail around a weed growing out of the cobblestone road, and ripped it out. My parents were excited; their son was going to be an advisor! Perhaps even destined to become king, if they were lucky and I obedient.
Sunwatcher had tried to contain his snort of laughter. He could never, never, imagine King Sandstorm. But he also felt respect for this hud. Here Sandstorm could have been a noble, perhaps even fathered the next queens, but he decided to become a homeless orphan on the streets of the Scorpion Den.
Of course, Sandstorm continued, their excitement lasted about ten seconds once they realized my disabilities. Then they were always complaining. "Oh, we wish you had been born a regular SandWing. Whoever would want you? You have no use in our plans." After a year of griping and anger, I decided I'd had enough. I flew off in the night, leaving my disapproving parents and the haughty snouts of all the SandWing royals far behind me, for good." He had smiled and drawn abstract patterns in the mud.
Sunwatcher decided he didn't like Sandstorm's parents, and would not like to meet them ever. If he did, it would be a bad day for Sandstorm's parents (or possibly Sunwatcher, as Sandstorm's father was the highest general in Queen Venom's army and his mother was twice as vicious and merciless in battle). But Sandstorm had been through more than Sunwatcher ever had. From that day forth, they protected each other, knowing how valuable friends could be in this unsafe and dangerous world.
After a day of long, weary flight, Sandstorm dove and flicked his tail for Sunwatcher to follow. Sunwatcher blinked away tears as the wind whipped his face, and saw a blue spot on the desert grow into an oasis, with a single leaning palm tree. A ramshackle tent was supporting the cracked trunk, and leaves were shed on the circular thatch roof. A pulley system made of ominously creaking poles and ropes hauled buckets in and out of the oasis, and into a back door of the house.
Sandstorm landed in the sand, spraying the stuff everywhere. A good chunk landed in the oasis with a splash. Sunwatcher landed behind Sandstorm a bit more neatly when the door creaked open and a slightly terrifying dragon walked out.
He was a male SandWing with pale yellow scales, with darker shades along his spine and in jagged patterns on his wings. His curved horns spiraled down, like a goat, and they were singed in some places, with the tip of one broken off. Several of his teeth were also missing. He had a long tear along one wing, and an irregularly long tail. He grinned crookedly when he saw Sandstorm and Sunwatcher coming.
"Well," he said, his grin widening, "This is new. We don't get many visitors out in the deep desert oases!" He stepped out into the sand, spreading his wings to catch the sun. His barb tail slithered in the sand like a snake.
"Hello," said Sunwatcher. "We're here for directions, and some water, please."
The older dragon bowed his head. "Well, we don't get a whole lotta water out here, that's for dang sure." He considered them for a moment, his grin fading. Then he scanned the sky. His black eyes widened for a second, then he quickly said, 
"But what I do have, sure I'll share. Come in!" he flapped his wings to usher them inside. Sunwatcher followed, glad to be out of the heat of the blazing sun.
Inside, it was deliciously cool. A small bamboo bed was neatly made, and cabinets of palm wood were set up haphazardly. Half-coconuts full of water lay in rows on top of the main desk, and Sunwatcher heard goats braying from outside.
Do you keep goats? asked Sandstorm. The older SandWing bustled around, humming as he opened cabinets and took out supplies. Sandstorm looked at Sunwatcher.
"Um, do you keep goats?" Sunwatcher inquired. He forgot that not everyone knew sign language. The older dragon nodded, still busy with food. "Yep," he grunted, tipping his head towards a small, circular wooden table. "My father kept goats. It's a long tradition that's been goin' for generations. Have a seat. Food's a-coming."
Sandstorm and Sunwatcher seated themselves while the SandWing laid out three bowls made of split coconuts, into which he poured a small white grain and some tough carrots. He also dumped a small, torn section of camel into each of their bowls, and once they were served, he dumped a third serving onto the table and began to eat along with them.
"What's this stuff?" asked Sunwatcher, grabbing one of the white grains in a pincer movement with his two front claws.
"Oh, that's rice," said the dragon. "Weird stuff, I know, but it's fully delicious and quite cheap too!" He nodded to a large rucksack dumped in the corner, labelled RICE. "Now," he said, leaning forward on his stool, "What brings ye here?"
"We're heading to the palace," said Sunwatcher cautiously. As not-evil as this dragon is, he didn't know how much he could trust him. "To see... our mother." He glanced sideways at Sandstorm. It was his quest; he should monitor the amount of information was given to random dragons.
"Ah." The dragon nodded. He considered something for a moment, then glanced out the window, and returned grinning. "Well, introductions first. My name's Cactus. And who might you two be?"
"My name's Sunwatcher." Sunwatcher glanced at Sandstorm. 'And this is Sandstorm."
"Really?" Cactus' eyes gleamed, as if he'd just won a bet and discovered a gold ring on the ground at the same time. "The Sandstorm?"
Uh oh, signed Sandstorm, which pretty much summed up Sunwatcher's thoughts. Cactus's role here was starting to make a horrible kind of sense.
"Yep," mused Cactus. "You're wanted, you know. By the advisors! Desert and Diamondback. Big bounty you've got, son." He stood up suddenly, knocking over all the rice bowls and shaking the table.
Look out, signed Sandstorm. He raised his venomous tail warningly.
"Please don't," said Sunwatcher, already guessing what Cactus was about to do.
"Sorry, my little friends," said Cactus. "But the queen's will is not to be trifled with."
He grabbed the entire table and lifted it up, cracking Sandstorm in the jaw. Then he heaved the entire thing at Sunwatcher.
Sunwatcher slid under at the last second, ignoring the sound of the table cracking the wall behind him. Sandstorm got up and bared his teeth. Cactus chuckled. "Y'all pretty good at this," he said, "But I've gotten years o' fighting experience. You ain't no match for me."
Sandstorm leaped onto a chair and arched his tail. We should go NOW. Knock him out, he said with a flick. Sunwatcher knew he really said GO. NOW. HIT. Since it was hard to form complete sentences with only his tail, but he knew well enough what it meant. "It's over, Cactus," growled Sunwatcher. "Let us go and we won't hurt you."
Cactus barked a bitter laugh. "Ha! That's funny. They've already hurt me, little dragonet. And that pain convinced me that you don't mess with the queen." He lunged, tail ready to strike. He had a slightly maniacal look in his eye now.
"I was promis'd no more revenge for what I did. An' I am about to earn it." He took a deep breath and roared dangerously. "Off to the prison, mates. Night-night."
From the fold of his wing, a dart tube materialized, and then a dart appeared in Sandstorm's shoulder, and Sunwatcher's neck.
Sunwatcher looked down at it. Then darkness enfolded him in its vast wings, and everything was gone, with only the faintest echo of Cactus's laugh and the clinking of chains.
== Chapter 5: Chains and Warnings ==
Darkness, enveloping him tightly, but hundreds of holes, showed snippets of sky and desert. That was the first thing he saw when he woke. His snout, talons and wings were bound. The flapping of wings filled the air, but when he struggled, the gruff voice from before said, "He's waking up. Hit him again, would you?" 
Another voice said, "Sure." And a sharp pain penetrated to his head, and everything went black again. And he found himself dreaming.
He sat on the peak of a mountain, overseeing clouds and a thick river running to the horizon, with a long flat slab of cobblestone making a floor around him. Pillars rose up on all sides, creating walls, with a carved marble roof sitting comfortably on top. A golden bowl full of smoldering embers sent black smoke wafting through the air, with the unpleasant smell of coal lingering in Darkthought's nose. He turned around, and was not very surprised to see a large, dark green SeaWing watching the scene at the end of the hallway. 
"Ah." Hydra turned and considered Darkthought cruelly and intelligently, but Darkthought also saw – and sensed – something like fear in his eyes.
"How- how are you alive?" blurted Darkthought, although he already knew the answer.
Hydra's gaze turned cold, cold as the sky on a moonless night. "Disappointed?" 
"Yes, actually."
Hydra snorted. "You know. Animus are rare and special and useful, if we know how to use our gift correctly. Personally, however, I would love to see your head on a wall, but my, ah, ally has other plans." He lashed his tail and considered Darkthought's head thoughtfully. "Although, he may be right, in a sense. You're a powerful one, aren't you? Two moons, and an animus. Quite a useful pawn. He sees potential in you, as I did, before you killed me, temporary as it might be," his voice was full of cold ice. 
Darkthought knew that he did not want to meet Hydra's ally. He really wished he hadn't met Hydra either, but it was too late for that.
"Why am I here?" he asked finally. It wasn't something he particularly wanted to know, but it seemed like a good way to get some sense of what was happening without betraying his intentions, and it also hopefully kept Hydra from calculating his head on a wall.
Hydra's eyes glinted like he knew exactly what Darkthought was trying to do. "Because you've got potential, young animus. He sees that. And an animus is always a gift. Think on that." And to avert the prophecy, his mind added quickly before Hydra pulled his defenses back up as a deafening roar shook the building. 
HYDRA! Roared a voice full of flames. WHERE ARE YOU?
Hydra hissed. "Think on what I have said, NightWing. We'll meet again, and hopefully I'll be the one driving a spear through your skull. In the meantime, have fun in prison." 
Hydra raised his forearms and shook two golden bracelets, which Darkthought hadn't noticed he was wearing, and with a ripping noise, Darkthought was shaken to consciousness.
The first thing Darkthought saw this time was his own forearms, shackled and connected to a black steel rung in the floor. Stone walls surrounded him on almost all sides, a patchwork of rock and sandstone bricks. Iron bars crisscrossed the only exit, with a locked door similarly made of iron. He could almost touch the handle with the tips of his wings if he leaned as far as he could in his chains, but not quite. 
Another small, square window behind him on the top of the wall showed giant walls in the distance, and dragons flying everywhere. Oases, palm trees and rare, lush grass were dotted everywhere. Darkthought groaned. It felt like a mountain had slammed into his temples, tip first. 
He noticed a river at the back of his cave, leading to the other cells, with a grate between walls. Occasionally, some straw floated through, but that was probably from the hay piles heaped on the side of each cell. 
He listened, and heard three voices talking in the cell to his left. He strained his ears to listen.
"Welcome to the Royal SandWing prison. You're two treats, aren't you? What are you, a NightWing? Barely look it," The sound of a kick into another dragon, and a stifled yelp. Darkthought bristled, and unfolded the minds of the guards and prisoners. He gleaned the basic information, then brooded on it. 
Guards: full of cruelty and bullies; picking on the prisoners, who were dragonets, by the three moons. The guards all seemed to be sent to prison as guard in a form of punishment; Darkthought could see one stole something, another got into a fight and burned down a tent, another disobeyed the queen's orders. He reflected they seemed perfectly happy here, where they weren't the bottom rank.
The prisoners were more interesting. One was a NightWing, like him, but very different. His mind was glaring like the sun, giving Darkthought a headache if he tried to enter. All he could find out was that his scales were somewhat RainWing, and that his best friend was also in the cell, and that they were betrayed somewhere. Interesting. 
His friend's mind was also blocked, but Darkthought managed to slip through. A shield of wariness surrounded his thoughts, not bristling with spears or blazing like the sun, but just a silent brick wall. Inside, his thought were interesting, and it appeared he was mute and deaf as well. Yet he seemed to be better than most dragons Darkthought had met – not that there were a lot, considering Bullfrog's upraising choices.
He learned from this SandWing's mind that the sunny dragon was named Sunwatcher, and his name was Sandstorm. He was angry at the guards, who were mocking his disabilities, but instead of a blowtorching anger like most dragons had, his was a calm, deadly spear, aimed quietly and accurately straight for the heart. Darkthought decided he did not want to get on Sandstorm's bad side. 
I need to stop these guards, he thought. And maybe get some information at the same time. "HEY!" he called.
It worked, he saw it from Sandstorm and the guard's minds. Sunwatcher's was still a blinding light, but a flicker of relief shot through like an arrow, then dispersed. I can figure that out later. 
"Who're you?" snapped one of the guards, slouching and shambling over. Another one? No one said the dragonet crime rate had gone up. Wonder what Kangaroo thinks of it. By all the snakes, I hope it's lunch break soon. It appeared his name was Tarantula, and his partner was Kangaroo. Kangaroo's mind was craftier than her counterpart, and she seemed to be plotting to escape and kill some particular colleagues in her legion.
ANOTHER ONE? Her mind snarled. Three moons, what is Cactus thinking? What terrible crimes have these dragonets committed? I know what Cactus will say. "It's not your job to know." IT'S NOT YOURS EITHER, you stinking beetlebrain. You're a scout living in an oasis, and the only reason General Snakebite doesn't report you is because you're actually useful to her. FOR SOME REASON. Don't ask me why. It's not like you actually capture anyone WHO WAS COMMITTED ANY CRIMES. Just sun-baked dragonets with bugs for brains. 
That's not fair, Darkthought thought. "Um... I was just wondering... why I'm in here?" 
Tarantula sniffed disdainfully. Darkthought noticed he had a big scar leading from the bottom of his nostril to his lip, and when he sneered Darkthought saw it going down his gum to the base of a tooth, which seemed to be missing. That seems like it would have hurt. 
"Why you're in?" Tarantula grinned. "'Cuz you've commited some crimes. Cactus saw you coming in, he signaled us." Now that he said it, Darkthought realized he was the gruff voice from before. Cactus arrests anyone he sees, then makes up some fancy words to confuse everyone, then he says "Execute 'em!" Darker than he looks, that dragon.
A dragon stepped out from the shadows. Darkthought recognized him as the dragon he'd seen outside the doorway, getting a pitcher of water. His pale yellow scales were near white in some places, and his long neck stretched downwards to level with Darkthought. Now that he had a closer look at him, he saw that this dragon – Cactus – was quite tall. He had a speckling of darker brown scales down his neck, back and tail, and zigzagging patterns of these scales also raced along the bottom of his wings. His horns curled downwards like a ram's and a long tear across one wing was slowly healing. His dental work wasn't great, either. His teeth that were remaining were slowly shifting to yellow, although it looked like they had been scrubbed recently. His breath smelled like goats. 
"Oh ho, lil' dragonet!" he said, raising his head to look imperiously down at Darkthought. Tarantula and Kangaroo backed a few steps away, then stood with their spears ready, Darkthought wasn't sure whether to protect Cactus, or if they were about to stab him themselves. From what he'd heard in their minds, they had no problem with plan two.
"You're in the prison!" Cactus said, grinning crookedly. He folded his arms behind his back. His tail flicked back and forth, as if listening to a rapid-paced song. "For criminals!" 
"Subtly revealed," muttered Tarantula. Cactus shot him a glare and Kangaroo elbowed him in the ribs.
"What did I do?" inquired Darkthought, trying to keep his cool. Cactus had a way of irritating dragons, looking like he was saying, I'm better than you, don't even try, you bow to me. Darkthought wasn't entirely sure who Cactus was yet, but he listened in on his mind anyway. Another one, Cactus thought tiredly. That makes three. Or two? Sandstorm's an unusual case, but he isn't anything special, like these two. His thoughts seemed a little sluggish, but Darkthought suspected that was because he was tired. He was crafty enough to capture Sunwatcher and Sandstorm, and from their minds, he could see that that wasn't easy.
"What did you do?" Cactus mocked. "You're a NightWing. We don't need much more reason than that." He lowered his head and got right up in Darkthought's face. "Got a prophecy for us?" he sneered. 
Darkthought stamped down his trembling fury. "No," he said. I won't give in to his little games, he thought. But Cactus' face was right there, and it would be so easy to slash it off for him. But he knew it wouldn't work. Cactus seemed smart, and he wouldn't get within the range of Darkthought's claws if he was worried Darkthought might attack.
"A NightWing," Cactus mused. "Well, you're a prize! What's your name?" 
"Startail," said Darkthought quickly. Somehow he didn't feel obliged to tell his real name, and he didn't know who else knew it anyway. If I'm the only one who knows me, he thought, could I pretend to be an entirely different NightWing?
"Startail," Cactus said slowly. He narrowed his eyes at Darkthought. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, Startail, but I'm afraid I have other matters to attend to. Meanwhile, you can stay here and get comfortable in your cell. You're going to be in here a while." He grinned maliciously, then sauntered off down the hall. Tarantula started after him, and after a moment Kangaroo followed.
Well. He had three new advesaries. My first day of freedom isn't going exactly to plan. If things had gone right, he would be in the Sky Kingdom right now, trying to find out where the hybrid that killed his father had gone. Yet here he was, locked up in the Sand Kingdom royal prison, subjected to the jeers and cruelty of Cactus. He curled up miserably, closed his eyes, and tried to see a vision, a future where he escaped this madhouse. Visions often came to him when he was sleeping, so he curled up, heaved a big, contented sigh, and dropped into a dreamless sleep.
== Chapter 6: Imprisoned ==
Sunwatcher wasn't sure where things had gone wrong. 
Was it when they had told Cactus Sandstorm's name? Or did he figure it out from the way Sandstorm didn't talk at all? Were there any other SandWings who were like Sandstorm? If so, how did Cactus know it was Sandstorm?
Probably when we told him so, thought Sunwatcher ruefully. He should have known that dragons would still know about him. The real question was why his parents wanted him back. 
Cactus and the two guards had left them, leaving Sandstorm to ponder something mysterious, and Sunwatcher to recover from one of the guards' brutal kick to the chest. 
Sandstorm's parents wouldn't want him back for nothing, he thought. He must have some part in their plans. Or maybe he was lying and they do really love him? But then why go to the Scorpion Den? Did he not like being in the palace? He looked at his friend for a second. No. Sandstorm isn't lying, I know it. So, his parents will need him; maybe they want to kill him to show their strength? I really hope no one would be impressed by that.
Sandstorm suddenly snapped out of his brooding silence, apparently struck by an idea. The prisoner, he signed, leaping to his feet. His chains clinked as he jumped in the air, and it made Sunwatcher shudder to see his best friend contained; Sandstorm could barely sign with the iron shackles on his wrists.
Other NightWing. Could help. Escape. His friend looked at him meaningfully as Sunwatcher got up. 
How would we talk to him? Sunwatcher signed back to avoid the patrolling guards hearing them. 
The river? Sandstorm suggested. Loose bricks? He nudged a brick with his claws. It made a grating noise that made Sunwatcher want to claw his ears out, but didn't budge. 
Sunwatcher sighed. From what he heard, there was another dragonet prisoner; a NightWing. But they didn't know anything about him; how could they trust him? He kicked the wall dejectedly. 
To his immense surprise, he heard murmuring, and one of the bricks shifted, grinded, then dissolved into dust. Four others also disintegrated, leaving a diamond-shaped hole through the wall. A black snout appeared in the hole, and it moved right to left, revealing two startlingly golden eyes, like Sunwatcher's. 
"Hiss," hissed the voice.
"Did you literally just say the word hiss?" asked Sunwatcher, startled into a laugh. 
"Maybe," said the voice. A slight smile cracked his face. "Are you the other NightWing? It's hard to see through this hole-" his snout swiveled, and one of his gold eyes was now prodding through the tunnel. "Yes," he answered himself. "Nice to meet you. My name is Darkthought."
I'm Sunwatcher," Sunwatcher said. "And this is my friend Sandstorm." He signed to Sandstorm, It's the other dragonet. He wants to talk. Darkthought tilted his head at the sign language.
"What were those gestures?" asked Darkthought, stepping away from the hole so they could see all of him. 
He was a dragonet about as old as Sunwatcher. His ebony scales were contrasted by the regular NightWing silver stars underneath his wings and belly, and he had two shining teardrops scales by his eyes of the same color. Grey spines ran down his back and the tip of his tail, and his talons were similarly colored. His only jewelry was a simple, thin silver chain necklace with a moonstone dangling from the bottom. It fitted him perfectly.
But his golden eyes were what was the most interesting part; his irises were solid, shining gold, exactly the same as Sunwatcher's.
He moved his talons in a bad imitation of sign language, accidentally signing Potato drinks donkey.
"It's sign language," said Sunwatcher. He hadn't needed to explain this to many dragons, who either knew what it was or didn't care. 
"Ah," Darkthought said, nodding. He pondered something for a minute, looking faintly amused by whatever he was thinking. He nodded again, then asked abruptly, "Do you have the NightWing powers?"
Sunwatcher looked at him, startled. He had never really thought about the NightWing powers before. Sometimes, yes, but he never considered he might have them. 
He tried concentrating on Sandstorm for a second. He knew a bit about his friend, but try as he might, he certainly couldn't see into his mind. It was also difficult to imagine having the power of mind reading at all. Everything we would see would seem so flat and two dimensional, compared to a dragon who could read our minds. "No," he said. 
Darkthought considered him for a moment, thinking silently again. Does he have them? Is he reading my mind? Hello? Are you in here?
The NightWing nodded. "I expected not," he said, shrugging. "But I may as well have asked." He looked around his cell absently, his tail subconsciously sweeping straw into a pile. 
The creaking of the door silenced their conversation. Darkthought looked at the crooked SandWing snout emerging and hurried whispered something to the wall. To Sunwatcher's immense amazement, bricks reformed in the empty space, and within seconds it looked like their conversation had never happened. The only thing that was different was a small indentation, perfectly fit for a dragonet's claw to stick in and rotate. Sunwatcher figured this was not a coincidence.
Three SandWing guards dragged something in, shouting and grunting. They gripped bulky chains tightly, connected to shackles with a roaring dragon on the end. It was an orange SkyWing, with black claws and a metal muzzle on her snout. She was occasionally blasting orange fire out of her snout, but eventually, after a lot of dragging, yelping and cursing, the guards got her into the cage to the left of Sunwatcher's, into Darkthought's. He heard the NightWing yelp and leap into the river.
"SON OF A DRAGONFLAME!" bellowed the SkyWing dragonet. A roaring column of flame erupted from between her bars, scorching the opposite wall. "GETBACKHERE YOU COWARDLY LIZARDS!"
Oh dear, thought Sunwatcher. He felt rather bad for Darkthought, who would never get a moment's peace again. 
Sandstorm sat by the river, oblivious to the racket the new prisoner was making. Sunwatcher curled up, putting his claws in the flowing water. He sighed at the peaceful cool of the currents. Sandstorm closed his eyes and curled up in a heap of straw. Soon, his sides were rising up and down. 
Sunwatcher curled up as well, in the river. The deliciously cold water made the blistering heat ease its scorching grip, although he had lived in the Scorpion Den his whole life and was used to the heat. 
We have to escape, he thought. As soon as possible. Sandstorm needs to get out of here before his parents use him or kill him themselves.
We need to escape, with or without Darkthought. 
As soon as we can.
I promise, Sandstorm, you will never have to face your parents again.
== Chapter 7: Cellmates ==
 Darkthought had never thought he would be nostalgic of being in a prison alone, but now he rather wished he could have a moment of peace. Even Cactus jeering at him might be better than this.
The new prisoner was quite feisty, and had ignored him whenever he tried to start a conversation, or sometimes blasting a column of fire at him, which he always ducked. At present, she was fuming as smoke poured out of her nostrils. She paced behind the bars, her chains clanking as she stomped back and forth.
Darkthought wished he could talk to Sunwatcher, but he couldn't reopen the enchanted bricks without the SkyWing noticing, and he was fairly certain he didn't want this dragon to know about any of his powers. So he just focused on trying to figure this SkyWing out.
The SkyWing's mind also matched her ferocious outside, although there were sections of it that was a little more mellow. Those sand snorters! Her brain grumbled. They'll be sorry! Hmmph! A little blast of fire shot out of her nostrils. Outside, she was a ferocious dark red, with streaks of orange scales - amber colored, actually. Her huge wings were dragging on the floor like she was about to pass out cold. Her yellow eyes glared at everything, including him.
Oh dear, Darkthought worried. He scratched the stone under his claws, wondering whether it was worth it to try to strike up a conversation again. "Um..." he said, before he could stop himself.
The SkyWing turned to look at him with no particular friendliness.
"I was just wondering... what your name is?"
She snorted. "Amber," she said flatly. She paused for a moment, then looked at him and added, a little less brusquely, "And you are?"
"Darkthought," he said, keeping his enthusiasm beneath the surface. A kind dragon is in there, under the anger and the wall of fire, literally and mentally. He brushed down some other confusing feelings that weren't important, and tried to focus on how to communicate with Sunwatcher.
Amber nodded slowly, then retreated to a pile of straw, where she fell asleep. When Darkthought was quite sure she was really sleeping, he stuck his claw into the indentation in the wall and twisted it to the right, and the six bricks crumbled into dust.
"Psst!" he hissed to Sunwatcher, who was also sleeping. Three moons, was everyone but him asleep? He risked a glance over his shoulder at Amber, to check she was still deeply sleeping. "Hey!"
Sunwatcher grunted and his eyes half opened. His tongue flapped out and he rolled onto his back, sighing gustily. His usually golden scales were now black with a hint of blue, orange and pink at the edges of his wings. Starry scales, placed like a normal NightWing's, were shimmering quietly.
"Hey! Sunwatcher!" Darkthought tried. "Come on, wake up!"
The dragonet rolled again, dunking his tail into the icy river. With a yelp, he jumped up, wings fluttering. "Cold! Cold!" he yelped.
"Hey!" hissed Darkthought. Honestly, Sunwatcher was not easy to wake.
"What?" he whispered, coming over to the hole. "Who's your cellmate?"
"Amber," Darkthought said quickly. "She is not very... quiet."
"YOU MANIPULATIVE TOADS!" roared Amber in her sleep, making both the NightWings jump. She lurched violently, her black claws twitching. "SAY THAT TO MY FACE, WHY DON'T YOU!"
"Moons," whispered Sunwatcher in a trembling voice, once he had regained the power of speech. "That was absolutely terrifying." He gave Amber a worried look. "Are we sure her mental level is completely stable?"
"Yes," said Darkthought firmly. "We are."
Sunwatcher gave him a confused look, but shrugged. "So what's up?" he asked.
"We need to escape," said Darkthought. "As soon as possible."
Sunwatcher nodded. "We're all in." he swung his tail, indicating the slumbering form of Sandstorm. "We've been discussing too."
Darkthought started to ask how, but then mentally slapped himself in the head when he remembered they both knew sign language. "Right." He said. "I'll catch some shut-eye."
"Oh, and Darkthought?" said Sunwatcher as Darkthought turned to leave. Sunwatcher was almost unrecognizable with his regular scales. The sunset colors had drained completely; now he was completely identical to a regular NightWing's. I wonder if he can change it at will.
"Yes?" asked Darkthought, turning. Sunwatcher glanced at the bars, at Darkthought and then at Amber.
"I think I know how." Sunwatcher explained his plan.
"Good," said Darkthought, nodding. "So... tomorrow night... we escape."
== Chapter 8: Unexpected Allies ==
Sunwatcher was woken by the sound of clinking metal and a door swinging wide open.
Darkthought stood there, grinning nonchalantly, with Amber impatiently eyeing the halls behind him. A nervous SandWing stood behind them, worrying his talons, occasionally glancing up at a taller guard, who was tapping her foot impatiently. 
"Hey," said Darkthought, stepping into the cell. 
"Let's GOOO." Amber grumbled behind him. "There'll be guards at any second." She pricked up her ears and glared fiercely down the other side of the hall. 
 "I agree," said the taller, female guard. "Cactus guards this place well."  Darkthought nodded and hurried over to Sunwatcher's chains, unlocking them. A moment later, Sandstorm was stretching his wings, released as well. 
 A shout echoed from down the hall, followed by the sound of running away. The taller guard shot off, hissing.
 "Darn," said the shorter guard. "He'll probably raise the alarm. Hopefully Kangaroo can stop him before he does."
 "Now we really  have to go," said Amber. 
 "Alright, alright," said Darkthought. He beckoned for Sunwatcher and Sandstorm to follow him, and the NightWing and Amber disappeared down the hall. "Come on!" called Amber.   
Wait, signed Sandstorm. He cast a disapproving look at the disappearing dark red tail of Amber. Is she safe? 
Sunwatcher had no idea. Amber was dangerous, but Darkthought seemed to like her... in fact, it seemed that he liked her a lot. That was strange. But this was now or never. Trust a potentially psychopathic dragon... or live out the rest of their lives in a SandWing prison.   
I don't know, he signed back. But this is our only chance. Sandstorm nodded, as if he had guessed Sunwatcher would say that. He followed Darkthought and Amber out of the cell, with the shorter guard slithering behind them. 
 "I'm Tarantula," he said, cheerfully.
 "Why are you helping us?" asked Sunwatcher warily. It made no sense, although he felt a little guilty about asking. 
 Tarantula shrugged. "Me and Kangaroo, we felt bad about what we did to you. Decided to help. O'course, that means Cactus is out for our blood. But we have an escape route. Figured we may as well make up for our wrongs." He tilted his head as they pattered down the hall.
 Sunwatcher smiled. Tarantula was a little eccentric, but he seemed sorry for what he had done. "Well, thank you," he said finally. "And don't worry, all is forgiven." 
 Tarantula grinned really wide then. He nodded and hurried to catch up with the taller guard, Kangaroo. When he got there, she twined his tail around his and they both smiled. Sunwatcher guessed that neither of them would have escaped without the other.
Amber paused at the prisoner's belongings room, where she grabbed a gold and ruby necklace and a scrap of scroll. Sunwatcher wondered what that was, and Darkthought also seemed to examine it. Is it enchanted? Sunwatcher thought. What spell?
 "Hurry up," snapped Kangaroo. "It won't be long until someone notices that you escaped."
"I agree," Sunwatcher offered. "The guards patrol every fifteen minutes." Darkthought tilted his head at him, thinking.
Suddenly a cry of pain snapped them all to attention. Tarantula was pinned the the ground, and Cactus was on top of him, grinning. Or scowling. It was a little difficult to tell. His curved claws were expertly wrapped around the main artery in the guard's throat. 
 "Tarantula!" cried Kangaroo. Smoke poured from her snout, and her claws gripped the sandstone floor. "Let him go," 
 Darkthought tensed. Amber hissed with the fire-is-coming noise. Sandstorm bared his teeth. Sunwatcher stood there, frozen with horror. "Well hello, friends," Cactus snarled. 
Then he grabbed Tarantula's horns, twisted, and with a horrible snap, the guard's lifeless body dropped to the floor.
== Chapter 9: The Darkness Inside ==
Darkthought's next thing he saw was a blur of action.
With a cry of fury, a flash of pale yellow shot by, and a sound like blasting fire pummeled his eardrums mercilessly. Then a growl, and dark red and orange darted by as well. More fire sounds. 
Once his vision cleared, he saw Cactus snapping his jaws angrily at Amber and Kangaroo. Sandstorm had snuck around behind the huge SandWing and was arching his venomous tail above his head like a scorpion. Sunwatcher was still staring in a daze at Tarantula's body, the head twisted at a horribly impossible angle. 
 Amber blasted a jet of fire into Cactus' chest. The older SandWing yelped in pain and slashed at Amber's forearm. With a yowl, the SkyWing rolled to the side and raked her claws maliciously along his side. 
 At the same time, Kangaroo grabbed Cactus' head and smashed it into the wall. She tried to yank out her claws, but they tangled in Cactus' goat-like curled horns and would not release her. Cactus stumbled back to his feet. He wobbled a bit, grabbed Amber by her head, and threw her into a wall.
"AMBER!" roared Darkthought. Blind rage flowed through his veins. Without thinking, he raised his talons, muttering, and Cactus shot into the ceiling, smashing into the sandstone blocks and then plummeting back down. With a shriek of terror and pain, the SandWing crumbled into the ground. 
Darkthought was vaguely aware from the other dragonet's minds that his eyes were glowing faintly, but all he was focused on was Cactus. He spun one talon around and thought, Enchant Cactus' claws to attack himself. 
Immediately, the curved black talons slashed at Cactus' face, raking huge long slashes across his teeth and snout. The SandWing screamed in pain and batted his wings at his own talons, which grabbed his wings and tore huge holes through them. Cactus fell to the ground, roaring in one long noise of agony. "Darkthought!" shouted Sunwatcher. He grabbed the NightWing's arm. "That's enough, let's go!" Sandstorm and Kangaroo were carrying the limp form of Amber on their backs and were already lifting off into the sky, via the huge hole Darkthought had created.
Darkthought did not want to stop. He wanted to hurt Cactus in the way he had hurt him and Kangaroo. He wanted to scar this dragon on the inside. But something in Sunwatcher's tone of voice, his urgency but also something like actual fear of his friend, made him stop. He breathed heavily for a few seconds, looking at the screeching form of Cactus, afraid of his own enchanted claws, which were clawing his wings to shreds.   
I did that. Waves of horror surged through him. I did that. I actually did that. Was it possible for the same dragon he was now to have done something as fundamentally horrible as that? Cactus slammed his own talons into the wall, and cracking noises came from within them. He howled in pain, his talons broken, but still they twitched through the air towards him. 
Darkthought was struck with a vision - himself, but not himself, snapping his claws. Dragons freezing solid, stone seeping into their scales, until they were petrified mid-roar, nothing more than statues. The statue-dragons plummeting, down down down until they shattered on the ground far below.  That could not be him.
"Stop!" cried Darkthought, taken aback in terror of himself. "STOP!" Cactus' talons froze for a moment, and then hung limply. Cactus, wild-eyed with terror and rage, whipped around, blasting fire everywhere.
 "Where are you, you horrible monster of a dragonet? Where are you!" Darkthought managed to take off through the hole in the roof, although he barely made it, he was shivering so hard. Kangaroo and Sandstorm were waiting, hovering in the air. Sunwatcher flapped up, signed something to Sandstorm, and kept flying towards the Claws of Cloud mountains. Darkthought wondered what he said. His mind was still a blazing firestorm, as bright as the sun, and impenetrable barriers shielded Sandstorm's thoughts. 
Kangaroo was wide-eyed as Darkthought flew past, but then her and Sandstorm followed, carrying the unconscious (hopefully unconscious, he thought) body of Amber. The three moons were sinking, and the single yellow sun rose in a sunset.
Who am I? he thought miserably. The kind of dragon Darkstalker was?
Absolute terror blasted through his veins. NO. No, no, no, no, no. I am not, cannot, be like him or Hydra or any other crazy animus. I am me. I am Darkthought. He calmed down. Still, the haunting image of Cactus shrieking as his own claws attacked him was permanently burned into his brain. He killed Tarantula. He would have killed us all.
I am sorry. That will never happen again. I'll make myself stop. That will not happen to anyone ever again.
He cast the spell right then and there, prohibiting himself from doing any harmful spells. And with it, a little guiltily, a spell to make him stop thinking about that horrible usage of his magic.
I'll make it right.
He flew into the sunrise, along with his friends. The future was in their talons now - the shattered future unfolded in front of him.
What am I going to do now?
== Epilogue: The Plan ==
Hydra stood in amidst the ruins of the SandWing prison. Beside him, wounded and scowling, was Cactus; wings shredded, two claws and a horn snapped in half, and fresh claw marks along his side and back. Disappointing. 
"Disappointing," said Hydra simply, echoing his own thoughts. He picked up a piece of rubble and examined it between his claws. The animus was more powerful than anyone has thought. If he was going to make this go the right way, he needed to focus. Perhaps they should get the Master in on it. He might know what to do. 
 "It wasn't my fault," whined Cactus. "You never even mentioned there was an animus involved. What the moons did he do to my claws!" He glanced at his talons fearfully. 
 Hydra turned to face the SandWing. Cactus was small for his size, true, but next to Hydra, whose horns brushed the ceiling, he looked like a dragonet. 
 "You had one job," snarled Hydra. He picked up the body of a SandWing guard in one hand. Cactus gulped, terrified. "And you failed." 
The huge SeaWing squeezed hard, and the guard's torso was wrenched in half. He let the twisted body drop with a loud crunch noise. Cactus stared up at Hydra, the remains of his wings shaking.  "Let this be a lesson to you, SandWing," Hydra growled. 
He threw the rock into the air, and it shot off, searching for the lost dragonets. "There are games being played here on so many levels." He took a step closer. Cactus stumbled back, disoriented without the balance of his wings, and tripped backwards onto the wall. "Surely no one would miss a single pawn." 
 Cactus grasped at his own throat suddenly. He choked, slowly, and when he was dead, Hydra soared out of the SandWing prison ruins and into the moonlight deserts.
Standing in the middle of a dune was a tall, blood-red SkyWing. He turned at Hydra's approach, scowling. 
 "You are late," he growled as the huge SeaWing landed on the ground next to him. 
Hydra shrugged.  "Things got complicated. Cactus is dead." 
 "Who?" 
 "You know, the SandWing who I mistakenly thought could keep the dragonets contained." 
 "I told you he was a bad choice." 
 "Hmm." 
 The two huge dragons sat on the dune. After ten minutes, a rock flew from the clouds into Hydra's talons, instantly unfolding itself into a small message-scroll. The SkyWing peered over with glowing orange eyes. 
"And what is that?" he demanded. Hydra grinned. Finally, Warmonger had come through. 
 "This, dear Forge," he said, "is a plan."
THE END (For now...)
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Completed)