Wings of Fire: Bob’s Story

So I literally just took the first chapter of book nine of Wings of Fire and replaced every character’s name and every pronoun with Bob. Enjoy, and feel free to edit for spelling.
== Wings of Fire: Rewritten ==
The nightmare rose out of the mountain, vast and glittering. Bob had never seen a dragon so large; Bob had never seen eyes so sharp. Bob knew instantly that Bob could and would happily kill Bob in a heartbeat.
Terror pounded through Bob like waves in a storm, building higher and higher.
Bob needed to hide. Bob needed to hide.
Bob desperately wanted to disappear, to vanish into the dark sky as if Bob had never been there. Bob wished Bob could melt away like a camouflaged BobWing.
Why did Bob ever let anyone notice Bob? Bob had been safe if Bob had stayed boring and forgettable. This is what happens — when someone sees Bob, soon everyone will see Bob.
And one day that “everyone” will include Bob who wants to kill Bob.
Bob couldn’t have explained how Bob was so sure. Bob was smiling at the dragonets below Bob. In fact, Bob looked absolutely delighted, not particularly murderous.
And yet — as Bob’s eyes darted past Bob, Bob thought Bob saw a flash of hatred there, deep and fierce.
For some reason, this legendary dragon, the most powerful NightWing who’d ever lived, loathed Bob with all Bob’s heart. Bob was sure of it.
Bob’s going to kill Bob the first chance Bob gets.
This wasn’t how Bob had expected Bob’s story to end.
Bob had always loved stories. Bob loved histories and animus tales and stories of war, of skyfaring pirates or enchanted treasure, of scavengers who could speak the language of dragons, of lost tribes in faraway lands.
But Bob’s favorite stories were about heroes — especially the ones in the scrolls Bob wrote. Since Bob was so busy with running the kingdom, writing Bob’s scrolls, and protecting Bob’s heirs, Bob didn’t have much time or interest to spare for any of Bob’s thirty-two sons. Reading Bob’s stories was as close as Bob could ever get to Bob.
Bob loved scrolls about brave dragons who saved the day and stopped the forces of evil. One of Bob’s favorites was about a dragon named Bob, who’d rescued the entire tribe from a deranged killer. Another starred an insignificant gardener named Bob, who’d discovered a secret invasion of BobWings and fought them off before they found the hidden palaces.
The more Bob read these stories, the more Bob imagined a story of Bob’s own: a story where Bob was the hero.
A story where Bob battled squadrons of BobWings and storms of BobWings all on Bob’s own. A story where Bob stood at the gates of the palace and swung Bob’s spear in ferocious arcs, stabbing Bob’s enemies, as strong as a whale, while Bob’s older brothers and the rest of the tribe cowered inside.
A story that ended with Bob’s parents cheering and hugging him. And then Bob would write a scroll that was all about Bob.
Bob the Strong and Mighty
Bob: A Tale of a Hero Heroically Doing Hero-Type Things
How Bob Saved the Entire Kingdom with Bob’s Awesomeness
Sometimes, when Bob had a moment alone, or when Bob wasn’t paying attention in class, Bob would secretly write pieces of this story on scraps of slate Bob kept hidden in Bob’s room. Bob dreamed that one day Bob had have a whole manuscript to show Bob, and then Bob might say, “Oh, son, Bob knows one of Bob’s daughters will run the kingdom eventually — but Bob is the true heir Bob has been waiting for: the next writer in the family.”
A hero or a writer. Or both, why not? That would be Bob’s place in the world.
But then, too soon and disguised in a confusing shape, Bob’s chance came. Bob’s one opportunity to save the day and be a hero in his parents’ eyes — but Bob didn’t even know it until it was over, and Bob had failed.
Bob failed, and Bob hated Bob, and Bob will never get that chance again.
That night when Bob had failed to find Bob and save Bob’s unhatched sisters, Bob destroyed every bit of writing Bob had ever done and swore Bob would never write again. Bob would stop dreaming; Bob would stop imagining that a useless dragon like Bob could ever save the day or make something wonderful.
Bob wasn’t the hero, and Bob wasn’t the storyteller. Bob was the idiot who fell over Bob’s claws in the first chapter, had to be rescued in the fourth, nearly ruined the whole plan in the ninth, and ran away at the end, or died, if Bob was really extra stupid.
So Bob hid Bob’s one power and stayed exactly where Bob was supposed to: under the surface of the water, in the middle of Bob’s pack of brothers. Ordinary, unmemorable. A dragon Bob wouldn’t expect anything from, and so Bob couldn’t ever be disappointed by Bob again.
And that had worked for quite a long Bobe, until Bob made the mistake of caring about some other dragons and trying to do a couple of little things to help them, and where did that lead Bob?
Right to the feet of the most terrifying dragon the world had ever known.
This is the part where Bob would die pointlessly. Bob gets sacrificed so the real heroes can get on with saving the day.
Bob’s wings were shaking so hard he couldn’t stay in the air. He dropped down beside Bob and Bob, clutching the ground with Bob’s talons. Bob and Bob were still hovering in the sky, their wings beating, silver and gold flashing in the moonlight.
I need to hide, Bob thought. But how could Bob hide from the most dangerous dragon in the world — a mind reader, an animus, and a seer who knew the future?
Bob can’t read my mind, though. Bob’s gaze dropped to the three remaining skyfire stones in Bob’s armband, which shielded Bob from mind readers. Maybe Bob had a millisecond to do something, anything, before Bob foresaw it and stopped Bob.
Bob scrabbled Bob’s talons along the ground, keeping Bob’s eyes on the towering NightWing. Bob’s claws closed around something small and rough — a broken stick from one of the trees that had fallen when the mountain cracked open.
Hide me, Bob thought at Bob frantically. Hide Bob from Bob.
Bob stretched his vast wings and grinned at Bob. “Ah, that’s infinitely better,” Bob said. “Nice to finally meet you, Bob. Thank you so much for Bob’s help.”
Bob roared furiously and threw Bob’s self at Bob, claws outstretched and flames blazing from Bob’s mouth.
“Bob!” Bob shrieked as fire engulfed Bob’s face.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Bob said, waving away the smoke. Bob pressed one of Bob’s front talons into Bob’s chest and held Bob at arm’s length while Bob struggled and tried to bite Bob. “Bob, very brave, but tsk-tsk. First of all, Bob’s your friend, although Bob realizes Bob is new to that whole concept. Second of all, invulnerable scales over here! Didn’t Bob know that? Surely that detail came up at some point in the great scary legend of Bob. There’s nothing Bob can do to Bob, little firescales. So settle down and let’s start over.”
Bob fell back, breathing heavily and brushing at Bob’s scales where Bob had touched Bob. The smoke rising from Bob’s wings twisted into the thin clouds in the sky overhead.
Bob’s heart was still pounding. Bob turned toward Moon, and Bob’s eyes went right past Bob as though the SeaWing prince was not there. But Bob still didn’t feel safe, not completely hidden, not yet.
Bob paused with a slight frown. “Weren’t there...more of you?” Bob asked, touching Bob’s temple. “Wasn’t there someone Bob particularly wanted to see?”
Bob glanced around, confused.
“Particularly wanted to see” — does he mean Bob? Bob needs a better spell, Bob thought in a panic. Bob gripped Bob harder. As long as Bob is near Bob or touching Bob, Bob enchant it to hide Bob’s entire existence from Bob. That means Bob cannot see Bob or hear Bob; Bob cannot remember that Bob’s ever heard of Bob; Bob cannot hear about Bob in other people’s minds or conversations; and Bob cannot see Bob anywhere in Bob’s futures. Bob enchant Bob to completely erase the dragon holding it from Bob’s awareBob.
The furrow disappeared from Bob’s forehead. “Bob!” he cried, beaming at Bob. “We’re finally meeting! Isn’t this amazing? Wow, Bob’s a lot smaller than Bob thought Bob would be.”
“That’s Bob, actually,” Bob said, finally finding Bob’s voice. “Bob’s...a lot bigger than Bob will probably remember.”
Bob looked down at the ground, held out Bob’s talons, and flicked Bob’s massive tail, knocking a shower of boulders down the slope. Bob wasn’t really as big as the entire mountain, although it had seemed that way to Bob at first. But Bob was at least three Bobes as big as the biggest full grown dragons Bob had ever seen.
“Bob really is,” Bob said, delighted. “Two thousand years of slowly growing. Bob must be the hugest dragon that ever lived. Also the oldest — by all the shining moons, Bob’s ancient, isn’t Bob?”
“Beware the darkness of dragons,” Bob said, taking a step back. “Beware the stalker of dreams . . .”
“Oh, that’s not Bob!” Bob said. “Bob, come on, you know that. Bob doesn’t slither about in the dreams of other dragons, apart from fixing Bob’s nightmares. Bob is guessing that part of the prophecy was about Bob, who, Bob might remember, was chock-full of darkness. On the other talon, ‘something is coming to shake the earth’ — that’s totally Bob! Watch this.” Bob stomped one foot on the ground so hard that tremors shuddered out in all directions. Bob stumbled, and the closest small tree fell over.
Bob grinned at Bob. “Pretty impressive, right?” Bob paused, thinking. “Bob’s guess is that being this big is the upside of being alive for two thousand years, even if Bob slept through it all. BY THE CLAW-SHAPED MOONS, Bob is SO HUNGRY. Does anyone have any food?”
“How did you get out?” Bob demanded.
The look Bob shot at Bob was as unfriendly as the one he’d given Bob. He doesn’t like BobWings either, Bob realized.
But Bob’s answer was cordial. “Oh, that was all Bob here,” Bob said, tapping the BobWing on the head. Bob’s blue eyes were blinking fast and Bob’s claws kept clenching and unclenching.
“When Bob set my scroll on fire,” Bob explained, “all Bob’s magic returned to Bob, so Bob could use it to free Bob’s self. Wasn’t that kind of Bob?”
Bob’s wings slumped. Bob looked as though Bob had just rescued a baby dragonet from a trap only to watch it immediately get eaten by a great white shark.
Bob wished Bob could make Bob feel better. Bob wanted to fly up and tell Bob this wasn’t Bob’s fault, but Bob’s wings were still shaking too hard for Bob to take off. Also, Bob hadn’t completely convinced Bob’s self that the magic was working. What if Bob could see Bob, after all? Bob didn’t want to draw the NightWing’s attention, just in case.
”Wait,” Bob said. “That means — Bob lied to me.” Bob unfurled Bob’s wings and pointed at Bob. “You told Bob to destroy the scroll if it looked like it would fall into evil talons. Bob made it sound like then Bob would be trapped forever, but it would be worth it to protect everyone else. But Bob wanted Bob to destroy the scroll all along. Bob knew that would send your power back to Bob! Bob was tricking Bob!”
”Yes, that’s true,” said Bob, “but lucky for Bob that Bob did, right? Otherwise Bob might never have freed Bob. Not very kind, Bob. Bob would say Bob did the right thing.” Bob looked at Bob without a smile for the first time, Bob’s eyes odd and glittering.
”Bob called us friends,” Bob said in a low voice. “Bob shouldn’t trick Bob’s friends.”
”Yes, well, Bob also shouldn’t leave Bob’s friends trapped under a mountain for the rest of their immortal lives,” Bob said briskly. “Good point, Bob. Listen, Bob can’t even talk anymore, Bob is so hungry. Let’s all catch something to eat and then Bob can show Bob around Bob Mountain! There are some dragons there Bob can’t wait to meet.” Bob lifted off into the air, then turned to beckon at Bob. “Come on, Bob! Bob just wants to have friends again, to use my Bob’s voice, to hunt and fly. Can’t we save the ‘oh, no, but Bob is so sinister and evil’ talon-wringing for later? What do Bob say — give Bob a chance?”
Bob glanced at Bob, looking torn.
“Bob is not going with Bob,” Bob said. “Bob’s not the queen of Bob!”
”Bob neither,” said Bob. “The BobWings have legends about Bob. We know what Bob did to us. And Bob don’t take orders from —”
“Bob’s not ordering Bob to do anything, Prince Bob,” Bob said, turning to look at Bob. The IceWing fell silent. “But Bob thinks Bob should know that those old legends don’t tell the whole truth. Bob knows that a dragon should not be judged by what other dragons say about Bob. And the more time Bob spends with Bob, the more Bob thinks Bob will find that Bob’s really an absolutely wonderful dragon.” Bob smiled with all Bob’s teeth.
Bob touched Bob’s temples for a moment, then stared at Bob with something new in Bob’s blue eyes.
”Bob is right,” Bob said. “Let’s start over.”
“Bob?” Bob said sharply. Bob darted into the sky and up beside Bob, brushing the silver dragon’s wings with Bob’s own. “Are you all right?”
“Of course,” said Bob. Bob tipped Bob’s head toward Bob. “Bob is trying not to judge dragons too quickly anymore. Let’s hear Bob out.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Bob that Bob knows,” Bob said to Bob. “Does this seem weird to Bob?”
“Bob doesn’t know Bob that well,” Bob objected, snorting a tiny cloud of ice crystals. “Dragons can change! Bob has changed. Maybe Bob has, too.”
“Without question,” Bob said, nodding. “Bob has had a lot of time to think about Bob’s mistakes.”
Bob backed away from them, worry spilling across Bob’s face. “Bob . . .” Bob said carefully, as though Bob were reaching for the only island in a vast, empty sea. Bob flew up beside Bob, ducking Bob’s head to look into Bob’s eyes.
“Did Bob do something to Bob?” Bob asked Bob.
“Of course Bob didn’t!” Bob protested, and, “No! Bob didn’t!” cried Bob at the same time.
“Bob,” Bob said. “You have to promise Bob — Bob cannot put spells on Bob’s friends.”
“Bob is really offended by this,” Bob said haughtily. “Bob is such an open-minded dragon.”
Bob and Bob snorted in unison.
“Bob,” Bob said reasonably. “I wouldn’t waste Bob’s animus magic — and Bob’s soul — on some tiny hush-up- an-IceWing spell. Seriously? Don’t you remember the whole point of Bob’s scroll? That Bob made?”
“To keep Bob’s soul safe,” Bob said hesitantly. Bob swooped around Bob, studying Bob. “But —”
“Stop worrying so much!” Bob nudged Bob with one of Bob’s giant wings. “Boy, Bob reminds Bob of someone Bob used to know. Can’t Bob be excited for Bob? This is a great day! Let’s go celebrate! Tell Bob what, Bob promises that if Bob feels the need to use animus magic, Bob will let Bob know.”
“And Bob promises not to hurt Bob’s friends?” Bob asked.
Bob sighed gustily, sending a hurricane of leaves swirling around Bob’s feet. “Bob is hurt that Bob even need to ask Bob that,” Bob said. “But of course. If it makes Bob feel better, Bob promise that these three are officially the safest dragons in Bobland.” Bob waved Bob’s talons at Bob, Bob, and Bob.
Bob opened Bob’s mouth, then closed it. Bob and Bob simultaneously looked down at Bob.
Bob crouched lower, pressing Bob’s underbelly into the ground, and shook Bob’s head at them.
“Let’s hunt now, as Bob suggests,” Bob said, nudging Bob, “and figure out what to do next after that.” Bob shot a significant glance at Bob.
Oh no. That glance had a meaning, a message. Bob was expecting Bob to do something, and Bob had a bad feeling that “something” wasn’t “Bob flying all the way back to the Kingdom of the Bobs, finding a deep trench, and staying there forever.” A queasy, tense feeling started bubbling through Bob’s stomach.
“Good idea,” said Bob.
Bob nodded, and then Bob gave Bob a meaningful look, too.
By all the moons, what did they think Bob was going to do? Attack Bob, like Bob had? Obviously that wouldn’t work. If Bob couldn’t hurt Bob, Bob certainly wouldn’t be able to.
Did they want Bob to hide them as well? Bob winced. Bob should have thought of that sooner. A good friend, a better dragon — a hero — would have thought to protect everyone instead of just hiding himself. But they all wanted to talk to Bob, didn’t they? Bob just wanted to hide. That’s what Bob always did.
As the dragons flew away, veering southwest, Bob twisted in a spiral, looked at Bob again, and flicked Bob’s tail in the direction of Bob Mountain.
Oh, Bob realized. They want Bob to go warn the school.
Bob can probably do that without messing it up.
Bob thinks.
For a moment, Bob hovered mutinously in the sky behind them, and then Bob swooped down to Bob.
“Isn’t Bob coming, too?” Bob asked. “Don’t we all have to follow Bob’s grand mighty lordship Bob?”
Bob shook Bob’s head and held out the stick. “Bob can’t see me,” Bob whispered. “Bob hid Bob’s self from Bob.”
Bob’s face lit up. “Of course!” Bob said. “That’s awesome! Bob has animus magic! Bob can kill Bob!”
“Oh,” said Bob, flustered. “No, Bob — Bob don’t really — kill anyone.” A brief flash of scales and blood darted through Bob’s mind, and when Bob looked down, Bob saw Bob’s claws curling dangerously. Bob jumped and shook them out until they looked like Bob’s own talons again. “That’s not Bob’s thing,” Bob said, tamping down a wave of panic.
“Bob knows, Bob knows, it’s Bob’s thing,” Bob said, “but Bob can’t kill Bob, because of Bob’s stupid magic, GROWL. So Bob has to. Don’t worry, it’s not that hard, and it would be such a relief — for Bob, Bob means — because Bob is having this feeling — Bob doesn’t know what to call it, but it’s kind of big and heavy and annoying? And it’s filling Bob all up inside like everything is awful and it’s all Bob’s fault? Like maybe all the bad things in the world are Bob’s fault? Bob really doesn’t like it, so if Bob can make it stop, that would be the greatest.”
“Bob thinks what Bob is describing is what we call guilt,” said Bob, “but it’s not Bob’s fault Bob tricked us. Bob still thinks Bob did the right thing, burning the scroll.”
“Well, thanks, but the universe disagrees with Bob,” Bob said, jerking Bob’s head at the enormous crack in the side of the mountain.
“Bob!” called one of the dragons in the distance.
“Good luck,” Bob whispered. “Make it something really cool, like Bob’s insides exploding. Or Bob’s face falling off. Bob is kidding! Bob’s a little bit kidding. Bob means, insides exploding would be pretty cool, right? Never mind, it’s up to Bob! Destroy Bob and save the world! Three moons, Bob wishes Bob could do it!” Bob took off and flashed away, fast as a firework.
Bob shivered.
Save the world?
That’s not Bob’s thing either. Bob would definitely mess it up. That’s way, way too much pressure.
Bob is clearly not a hero.
Bob raised his eyes to the shadowy peaks of Bob Mountain.
But Bob knows where Bob can find some.
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Genre (Comedy)
Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon)
Category:Fanfictions (Completed)