Wings of Fire: Stained Glass

Wings of Fire: Stained Glass is a fanfiction by FourFlames and can only be used or edited by permission.
==Prologue==
It was dark and stormy; lightning crackled over the desert, too arid for rain to fall but charged with tension. The air currents were being ridden by hundreds of red shapes in the sky, circling viciously and belting fire.
Pseudo whipped his head around alertly, scanning the air. He had been training for months to learn the SkyWings' tactics. Now he was just waiting for SkyWings to give the signal to dive.
Grit blew past him in the air, breaking his connection with the rest of his troop. As the rumble of battle grew closer, he realized couldn't quite see anything. Dust swirled in his face, pelting his nose with tiny granules and filling his tear ducts. For several minutes he circled, hearing nothing but a few rolls of thunder in the distance, the sound of enemy shouts, and the eerie silence of being alone with the enemy.
The next thing he knew, he was on his back in the sand, every minute being buried alive. He felt a sharp object dig through his eyelids and bury itself in his eye. A clump of flesh slid from his face as another dragon took his face in their paw, clamped hard, and ripped. He screamed, thrashing his body in the sand while flames whipped him, until he was too weak to hold himself upright. He fell back to the dust, his body limp and heavy. 
His functional eye blankly watched as the world faded into a white blizzard of sand. As he slipped out of consciousness, he dragged his feet in the black murk of his own mindscape, clawing for a chance to wake up. He was thinking of his family. They were starving in the gigantic Scorpion Den, living off of tents and scraps and hearsay, sick with sandrot and injured from combat. He was doubtful he would ever save them, and it made him wish he could cry. And with that despair he drifted into the void.
==Part 1: Where the Shards Meet==
===Chapter 1: Pseudo===
I couldn't remember what had happened in that tornado of sand. I stretched my talons and tried to stand up. The desert sand seemed to stare.
Something was bent over me. I couldn't see what, but it was very small. I guessed maybe a dragonet. 
All that mattered was that I needed to get back to my designated troop.
Wait. Was that what I wanted? To fight more? I could barely see. I was pretty sure my face was very badly scarred. 
If I fought more, I'd probably die.
I stood up and pushed the small thing away, lifting my wings weakly and noisily flapping them as I cruised along the ground. It continued to follow me, but at this point, I didn't care. My entire area was deserted.
I needed to find someone.
===Chapter 2: Caliph===
I stared blankly at my father, who was curled up on the den floor, sorting through his collection of Wanted papers to add a new one that the camel merchant had "loaned" him. His black eyes glittered every once and a while, and he made small 'mmm-hmmm' noises as he nudged the floppy parchment to keep it from rolling up again. He had an interesting hobby.
I pushed through the front of the den and walked out into the warm desert air, ruminating on what my dad had told me the night before. We'd gotten into a fight over our weekly visit to the jeweler. I told him I hated being privileged, but I guess I didn't even know what I was doing. I didn't need to care.
My thoughts were soon interrupted by a scream and a flurry of wings. Since I lived in a borough full of SandWings who could afford luxuries, I thought it was just someone gawking over losing their hat. But it wasn't just one dragon; the whole street reeked of revulsion as disgusted SandWings averted their eyes and vomited into cramped alleyways. I had to duck under someone's talons once to avoid being stepped on by another. I fought my way up into the air, over the frantic flaps and commotion as neighbors shuffled past, so I could see for myself why everyone was pointing and making grave faces.
There was a dragon. It was a small, bleeding dragon with ribs like an ascetic wanderer and scorch marks all down his body.
But the most awful thing was that this dragon was missing a face.
===Chapter 3: Pseudo===
I stumbled through the streets, leaning on dwellings for balance while I dragged my uncoordinated body at a sluggish pace. The passersby quietly withdrew into the shadows, alienating me and shirking me from society. 
In the glass windows of one humble workshop, I stepped back and looked at myself, my heart hitting the bottom of my stomach with a thud. I looked like a reanimated corpse, the kind I'd seen in my nightmares at the barracks. The dragons flying around me in disharmony did not understand the meaning of something that could look this cruel. And I did not understand either.
The scales had been burned off my face, exposing raw skin that had gone swarthy in the relentless sun. My tear ducts were torn viciously out, and one of my eyes was swollen shut around a shard of shrapnel. My snout was gone, exposing a rank hole infested with sand lice. And although I could still hear, my ears were practically shreds.
I was irreparable.
I could not cry, or talk back, or fight. I couldn't run or fly away. I could only collapse right there and watch and listen to their tormenting gazes and shrieks.
===Chapter 4: Caliph===
I watched the deformed SandWing falter, witnessing the sparks of hope drain from his eyes as he touched his reflection in the glass windows of a hut with great melancholy. I felt sorry for this dragon. He looked as though he had never felt kindness.
I fought my way through the crowd to the front and forced myself to look down at the dragon. I couldn't just leave him there. I was about to do something when my dad snatched me up and towed me away, back into our den.
I struggled in my dad's arms, which were strongly gripped around my shoulders. I hissed and poked at him with my tail. It wouldn't do any good. SandWing relatives can't poison each other.
I was thrown back into the shade of my den.
My dad had an odd expression on his face. It looked kind of creepy, actually. He shook his head and prodded me out of the doorway.
I couldn't stand it any longer. I stamped my talons down on the ground.
"WHY ARE WE SO CRUEL?! THIS ISN'T FAIR!"
My dad gazed at me acidly, his enormous form trembling with rage. "You are too ungrateful to appreciate what I've done for you. I had to carry us away from the poverty line to live in a world where you can have opportunities." He folded his paws. "I want the best for you, son. And if you want the best for yourself, you can't throw away our reputation for a cripple deserter like that."
"W-WELL, WHY NOT?!" I retorted, knowing perfectly well that he'd given me his reasons.
He sized up, roaring explosively as he flared his wings. "GO TO YOUR ROOM."
I didn't budge.
My dad bristled. He swiped at my tail with his talons before storming outside. My head was spinning.
===Chapter 5: Pseudo===
I was lying flat on my stomach in the hard desert sand. I clenched some in my fists and threw it up.
I looked around with my one good eye. There was nobody left. I was alone.
I settled back down with a miserable sigh. 
Hang on a second. Was that a flash of white?
I leapt back up and scanned around me, my wings flared. My blood poured all over my talons as I dragged myself into the seemingly empty village.
===Chapter 6: Caliph===
The dragon was getting closer to my house. I was hoping he didn't see me, as at that moment I was terrified. What if he killed me?
I rounded the corner of my doorway with my eyes clenched shut, desperately praying that the dragon wasn't there. I reopened them to see a huge, bloody white eye in my face.
I screamed.
The dragon turned away. He shook his head, no, no, no.
I felt a pang of guilt. He didn't deserve what I just did to him. He didn't deserve any of this.
But how was he going to say anything to me?
I stared back at the village. The world was cruel. The only thing he was now was bait, easy bait, for torment.
I needed to know more.
===Chapter 7: Pseudo===
The scream still echoed in my ear.
This dragon was just like the others, and yet he had dared to get close to me. He had touched me.
I could see his thoughts reflected in his darting eyes. He hadn't meant it.
What could I do now? The only dragon that could help me couldn't even have a conversation with me. My snout was torn off.
Oh! Wait, I could still write, couldn't I?
I told myself that I could at least try. I didn't know how to write that well, so I could use pictures?
It doesn't matter. Either try, or die.
===Chapter 8: Caliph===
I watched as the Sandwing withdrew his tail and began etching something in the sand. It looked like fire touching another piece of fire. I looked at him, confused. What?
He shook his head, no, and grabbed my talon. I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming. It was rude.
The Sandwing clenched my talon in his and pointed back at the sketch with his tail.
Oh.
The gestures were as clear as glass: it was my talon, taking his. He wanted to be my friend.
I really wanted to help this dragon, who obviously didn't have anything left. But Dad would skin me alive if he found out, and I didn't want to think about the many ways I'd be rejected from society
Tentatively, I put my palm in his, and I rested it softly there for a moment. Then slowly I built up the confidence to firmly shake his hand, and looked into his eye affirmatively.
==Part 2: Glass can be Fixed==
===Chapter 9: Pseudo===
I was gently guided towards a sandstone hut. It was stuffy and hot. I could tell, even without most of my face, that it was midday.
I sat down on something soft. Maybe a camel hair carpet.
"So.... who are you?" I heard the other SandWing ask.
I tried to open my mouth, forgetting it was destroyed. He inched backwards (as I can only guess it must have looked disgusting). I mentally scolded myself and moved my tail forwards instead, etching a picture of a Pseudo crassipes into the sand.
The other SandWing called me Spider.
I shook my head, no, and erased the drawing. I decided, although it was not what I was named after, to draw something more identifiable, to a SandWing at least.
A Pseudoscorpion.
===Chapter 10: Caliph===
"Tailless scorpion!" I shouted.
The other dragon slapped his forehead in frustration, then gave up and spelt out "P-S-E-U-D-O". Now he pointed to me. 
"My name? You want to know my name?" I mouthed, hoping he didn't nod. But he did.
"C-Caliph, it's Caliph," I replied.
'Tailless scorpion' was starting to become less scary.
"Okay... so, who did this to you?"
The other dragon just shrugged.
I groaned, putting a talon to my head. It wasn't like I was going to find who did this. There were hundreds of dragons in the world and there was only one who could have mutilated the guy's face. And they might claim they didn't, so the chances were pretty close to impossible.
Pseudo's eyeless pit crinkled. He touched the sand, smoothing it over. He held out both his talons.
I wasn't sure what he intended to do, but I leaned forward and hugged him, and I don't know why, but I started to cry. I just couldn't believe how terrible dragons could be.
Pseudo's face spasmed sympathetically. I could sense that he was deeply touched and hurt by how much his injuries distressed me emotionally, and felt him try to pull away, but I drew him closer to reassure him that everything was okay.
===Chapter 11: Pseudo===
I walked quietly throughout the simmering streetway. My wounds burned in the fury of the sun.
I had no idea where Caliph was taking me. I wasn't sure that I cared. He was a rich SandWing who cared about me, and I was stunned.
I was even more stunned when I walked into a public bar. The barista was just about the only quiet one in the bustling tavern. Everyone in there was scarred somehow. Nobody cared, they were just gurgling their cactus juice. But I bet they had never seen anything by the likes of me.
Someone in the corner blew an unhygienic smoke ring, and went back to sipping something.
Caliph walked me up to the bar. "I'll have a sip of your Thrasher, please. SkyWing barbecue," he said.
I was puzzled. I thought he was ordering alcohol, which wasn't good for a dragon his age.
The barista turned, went into the kitchen, and returned with a huge SandWing, with battle scars and black, beady eyes. He was crushing a glass bottle with his bare talons.
"This is Thrasher," said Caliph uneasily. And immediately I wondered who the hell had taught their kid the secret code to contact this guy.
===Chapter 11: Caliph===
I remembered last time I had asked this dragon to deliver a message for me. He'd done it extremely well, and I couldn't thank him enough. But I figured this time he was going to make me pay up.
"Yeah? What y' want?" snarled the huge, muscly dragon. He was chewing the glass bottle he had just crushed in his talons and the shards were being obliterated beneath his jaws.
I swallowed hard. "I... we... we need a message sent to the Sky Palace."
The huge dragon grunted. "The Sky Kingdom? Are y' an idiot, boy? Ain't no dragon goin' to the Sky Kingdom when we a' war, son. Not even I go there." He spat out the glass in a cigarette canister. "And y' owe me, boy. Spit the cash, or y' gonna get no service."
I sighed and forked over twenty coins.
"So what y' wanna say in the message?" grunted the giant Sandwing.
"Ummm..." I shifted on my talons. "Send it to the guards. Tell them that we aren't done fighting. And if any of them attack you, kill them for us. For the fallen. For Pseudo. In fact, this is more of a battle mission at the fortress than a message."
The bartender's eyes glittered maliciously. "Are you tryna to send me to my death?"
I winked. "No, I'm sending you for death. For the dead SandWings of our kingdom. For the innocent that were slaughtered in the war-crazed hunger of SkyWings. Look at what they did to him." I gestured to Pseudo. "It could have happened to me, or you, or to anyone. I'm trying to make a motivational stand here."
"Oh, how touchin'," mocked Thrasher. "An utterly stupid sentiment. You ain't gonna do jack by sendin me to our enemies and tellin' 'em to shove off." His eyes were furrowed, but they seemed to be clouded with memories. Within seconds he had blinked his eyes and the cloudiness went away. "I'mma consider yer message. P'raps I'll send it tomorrow. P'raps never. Now get outta my tavern." He waved his talons at us and went back to wiping the countertop.
Feeling a little bit prouder than I had when we walked in, I helped my friend out the door and walked across the street to a medical care center.
=== Chapter 12: Pseudo ===
The nurses looked at me like I was vomit. Some looked on with mild interest, others shielded their eyes. Caliph noticed and tugged me, by my arm, into a side room. It turned out to be a waiting room.
"So honey," said a sweet nurse with rather fat cheeks and a lollipop in her mouth, addressing Caliph, "are you here for your annual..." 
Her sentence abruptly ended when she laid eyes on me. Then she ducked around the corner and whispered furiously with one of the other nurses.
I looked down at Caliph helplessly. He was shuffling through his wallet, finding the money needed to pay for healing the injuries.
"Oh sweetheart, you don't need to pay," the nurse said to Caliph. "This poor dragon is too badly hurt for any medical insurance to cover. Stupid war." She squeezed me rather tightly when she said this.
It was at that moment that a rather lanky SandWing with strange-looking glasses burst into the room, a clipboard practically moments away from falling out of his grasp. "There's no more rooms!" he answered as he shuffled towards the nurse.
"Make it work," the female dragon shouted. Photosphere fearfully threw open the door to the emergency ward and ran away. My nurse dragged me down the hallway with her.
"You'll be alright," the nurse said to me softly. "We're going to get you better."
=== Chapter 13: Caliph ===
"Is he going to be alright?" I said, glancing at the cot. The Sandwing's breathing appeared steady enough.
"Oh, yes," said Doctor Ankh. "We had to call for some plastic surgery in order to reform his face, but he's going to survive."
"Were you able to fix his eye?"
The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't replace something as significant as an eye."
I took a deep breath.
"It's time, Caliph," said Ankh. "He's waking up now."
I stood up slowly, stepping towards the cot. I wanted to see him. When he woke up, in all his glory, I wanted desperately to see him happy and well. I had only just met him, but it felt like I had known him for years. I leaned over the side of the railing, where he rested.
I couldn't see his face. He was facing the wall. But he woke, and rolled over, his eyes fluttering, stretching his legs happily. His mouth opened in a grin.
I watched his eyelids flutter open to reveal his beautiful black eye, etched darkly into his face.
== Part 3: Glass Reforged ==
=== Chapter 14: Pseudo ===
I blinked in the harsh bright light. Everything felt perfect... and a bit strange. Everything I saw was not blurred with blood that had been on my face. I could see a snout poking out in front of my face. A beautiful snout. I reached up and tried to feel my horns. They were there.
I reached around and tried to grab my ears. My talons connected with something cold and plastic. My heart sank. A hearing aid.
I wouldn't let that bother me. I tried to open my mouth. It worked! My mouth worked! I smiled. Could I talk? I rumbled my voice box. I opened my mouth. I grinned. I was pleased.
I looked around and the first thing I saw was Caliph. He looked happy for me. A little surprised, but happy. "Hello," I said cheerfully. At this he looked extremely shocked, but he was grinning ear to ear.
"Your voice is nothing like I expected it to sound," he said warmly. "It's... super beautiful."
"Thank you," I said, unsure what to think of this. "Thank you for everything, really."
=== Chapter 15: Caliph ===
Tears were starting to come to my eyes.
"You are free to go," said Doctor Ankh, motioning to the door with a theatrical bow. "He is healed enough. Both of you can leave now."
I turned to look at Pseudo's special face. "Are you coming?"
"How could I say no?"
I smiled. "Then let's go!"
"Hang on a second, just let me get on my feet." Pseudo scooted towards the edge of the cot and slipped onto his legs. They were a little wobbly and he fell on the floor, laughing.
"Alright, that's enough horsing around," I said. "Seriously, let's go."
=== Chapter 16: Pseudo ===
Wow. Pyrrhia was... well, I didn't even know how to describe it. I felt better than I had in days. The sky even seemed more blue. I sauntered happily out the doorway, waving Doctor Ankh a good-bye.
As we trailed out the door, the sun hit me square in the face. Almost like it was welcoming me. I smiled into it and strolled down the street behind Caliph, completely unaware of where we were going. I almost ran into my friend as he stopped straight in front of me.
"Look," he said, pointing to a huge figure flying away from the Claw and Cactus pub. "He's delivering our message!"
"That's stupid of him," I remarked. "You didn't have to hire him to do that, you know. I don't really want to know who marred my face. And it doesn't really matter anymore. You've given me a normal life. That's more than I can ever have."
Caliph gave me a funny look. "Why don't you want to know?"
"Well," I said, "it's probably not the SkyWing's fault. I mean, when I was in the war--"
"You were in the war?!" Caliph shouted.
"Yes," I said. "See, when I was in the war, I was scared. I was just fighting to help my family. If... if I had to kill another dragon... you know, I would do it. What if that SkyWing was just like me? I shouldn't make a dragon pay for doing this to me, when they might only have been trying to defend the dragons they love."
"I see," said Caliph, deep in thought. "Well, it's too late now. That money is probably long gone."
"Yeah, I guess," I said. "What do you want to do now?"
"Umm, well, you could come over to my house."
"Cool!" I agreed. "Let's go!" I rushed ahead of him. "Race you there!"
=== Chapter 17: Caliph ===
I dashed into the house. "Ha ha, I won!" I whirled around to race Pseudo to my bedroom and ran straight into my father.
"H-hey!" I said nervously. Oh dear. 
"Hey, son! What are you up to?" asked my dad, swatting me playfully with one of his "Wanted" posters that he loved collecting.
"Uh, I invited a friend over!"
"Really? Who?" His eyes glittered with a malicious interest.
Pseudo dashed into the door. "Dang it! Well I bet I'll beat you to... oh..." he gasped. He stopped short as soon as he saw my dad. "Maybe this is a bad time," he laughed, and withdrew from the room.
My dad whirled on him. "GET BACK HERE YOU FREAK!" He broke through the door and crashed into the SandWing, pinning him to the street. I screamed. "No! Leave him alone!"
"It's too late for that," he growled. "I know your little friend. Well Pseudo, it's time for me to finish this battle for you!" he crowed, and slammed his claws into the smaller dragon. "This is for your failure!" he yelled, and then threw him across the ground with a loud crack. He landed with a thump next to the bleeding SandWing before he had the chance to get back on his feet.
"D-Deathstalker...." coughed Pseudo.
=== Chapter 18: Pseudo ===
"You betrayed the army," hissed the huge dragon as he stood over me. "You betrayed the commander. You betrayed me. Do you know how many dragons in the regiment you killed just from your agony?"
"N-no," I pleaded, spitting up something. I looked hopefully at Caliph, his eyes filled with horror. I helplessly begged him with my eyes to do something.
"You are a deserter," growled Deathstalker. He stabbed me in the shoulder with his tail. "Prepare to find out how it feels to be deserted."
And then something sharp slashed my neck.
=== Chapter 19: Caliph ===
"D-Dad!" I wailed, panic and anguish breaking my voice. Father had stabbed deep into Pseudo's neck and dragged his tail sideways across in one swift motion, hacking it straight through with inelegant brutality. Pseudo's pleading eyes were still wide open. I wanted to shout, but a humid air pocket had built in my lungs.
"It's too late," he told me, turning around. "That stupid worm will die soon and you have no one to blame but yourself."
Sick with fury, I launched myself from the shattered doorway, bolting towards my dad's sleeping quarters. His footsteps thundered behind me and I charged harder than before, feeling the shards of agony lace my thighs as I sprinted and tore the little networks of tissue in my muscles. His bedroom flew towards me at breakneck speed-- I crashed straight through the door and tumbled to the ground at the foot of his dresser, sliding sideways on my shins and ducking before the bottom could hit my head. This is for hurting the innocent, I thought, fingering a drawer. The footsteps grew louder and my head swam with adrenaline.
This is for being a monster. I pulled out a dagger, breathing deeply. A white shape flew in behind me.
This is for killing my friend, I thought finally, tightening my grip on the dagger. I lunged out from under the dresser before he could locate me, slashing the tendons in his heels.
A scream broke the silence.
Two dragons dropped to the floor. One stood over the other, breathing heavily at his victory, the other dead and bleeding out onto the floor.
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Completed)
Category:Mature Content
Category:Content (FourFlames)
Category:Genre (Tragedy)
Category:Genre (Horror)