The Stars that Never Align

Excerpt 
It has been 40 years ever since the events of the Pantalan Dragons making peace with their new home and clawmates the Phyrrians. And although there wasn't much space at first, the land has grown to support every single tribe that lived on Phyrriah for ages to the point they couldn't call it Phyrrian no more. The name was changed to be "Dracdera". The geography has evolved to be based in every tribe in every location from the long "Golden Deserts" to the "Multi-Climate Jungle" and so on. Although one thing that has never been heard before was the horror of the army of what have been built for peace. As the dragonets chime to every night during lullabies "Don't forget, to fall asleep, or the monsters of the night, will come to eat." What are these monsters? You may ask. The dragon-eaters of yesterday and the past. "Oh what dragon-eater? A lizard, sea serpent, a big heron?" No. Neither. But the fangs. Of the dragons who kill for their own fun. 
Though don't fret. For there will come the time, when a last prophecy is needed to save the lives. Although much faith and hope into the hour, all we need are the stars to get together. Of the 5 stars of the Third Moon's Rising come along to form a shape of the end of the brand new skyfire's handle. We will be saved from this treacherous scandal.
Although you may have noticed, you may have seen, from all of the dead bodies near the "Scarlet Ravine", that there was no way, there was no hour, that the 5 stars and 3 moons, could rise at the some hour. All their hope, was all for gotten, as the blood moon rose, and the dragons, never, saw it coming.
<tabber>Prolouge=The silence is getting loud. The silence is getting loud. Louder than the puddles of rain crashing down into the fern trees. The only escape from the silence is the sqlueches of the 2 SandWings waltzing into the deep, grimmming forest. Their tip-toes' silent as speckles of yellow and green stare into their soul. Waiting. Waiting or something. They don't even know themselves what they are waiting for. But it's something very, very unwanted.
Despite this, the SandWings seemed unphased, chirping their herendous lovely tune about stars and dragons and their worthless hope. The left finally poked free from the melody and coward, "Fennec....are you sure this...thing...is going to happen?" The younger SandWing asked who's scales look like dig up treasure govered in stained dirt and dust.
"What thing?" The other, older and female SandWing asked with her up-toned voice just returning from working hopelessly in the musical.
"The prophecy, is it coming?" The dusty SandWing asked once more.
A shiver climbed up her pale peach scales before she snapped back into reality and responded, "Of course of course it's happening. It will just take time, remember, the Dragons who-"
The joyful tune, stopped. The younger dragon, Capybara, waited in confusion. He continued to walk, staring dead into his sister's dark, endless eyes as he continued to drift off towards the Pale tree.
"Fennec?" The SandWing asked, stopping in his tracks to turn around. No he didn't. He turned his back to the one star of the show. Was it the prophecy? All along. Was it the great Mumbalir. The fallen drake? What was it, he wanted to know.
The fool that SandWing was to take the turn. The one rule no dragon should turn their backs during these times. He was strictly told this rule. It was supposed to be embended within him.
But he didn't remember, and it was too late. As the SandWing took notice of her sister's stare he turned to face, but before he could make the full round, Fennec screamed, "Run Capy, NOW!".
It was too late. He was too far in. The dragonet was going to be gone. Say amen.
|-|Chapter 1= egg
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Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Genre (Horror)
Category:Content (PrimarinaPlays)