Wings of Night (A Fanfiction)

A fanfiction where you can insert your input or not.
Feel free to comment your character's details if you want them to be added to Wings of Night.
This fanfiction takes place in The New Pyrrhia.
The fanfiction and most of the characters are all entirely owned by ApaturatheSilkWing.
Whitemoon's wiki.
Centipede, Crimson and Bullet's wiki.
----
== Prologue ==
Soulmoon already knew his dragonet would look weird.
He knew that because he was the one who'd enchanted it. He'd never told the mother, Dawnmoon, what the spell was, though, so he knew it was pretty much his fault that she always fretted about what the dragonet would grow up to be.
Another thing he'd enchanted, however, was that none of his dragonets would have animus blood. So then their children wouldn't, and neither would those children's children, and so on.
He hadn't told Dawnmoon about that, either.
One of the things he did know, too, was that his dragonet was going to grow up to be white. White as snow - he hoped. He wanted to make it look like his child wasn't his child, and instead the offspring of an IceWing and a Nightwing instead, because his mother had forbidden him to have dragonets, but his sister, Lightfuture, hadn't. So it wasn't really fair, but of course no one objected to Mother.
Soulmoon hoped his dragonet would grow to live a peaceful life, with no worries in the world. He hoped that it would grow up happy with its mother and Soulmoon wouldn't have to get involved in its life at all. He hoped Mother wouldn't kill it.
He hoped.
He also hoped that at least one of his spells had gone right.
Pacing around the hut right now was a nightmare. He was walking up and down the large platform which held an elaborate dome-like structure made with tree bark and twigs and leaves that were see-through, but for some reason wouldn't allow wind to obscure them. Also, there was no roof and right above the hut, the three moons were in view. And two of the three moons were full tonight.
Hurry up.
The NightWing healers were very skilled and had dealt with many egg-layings before, but they'd also dealt with cracked eggs and Soulmoon almost wished they hadn't told him that so he wouldn't be WORRYING SO MUCH THANKS HEALERS.
He absentmindedly picked a golden starfruit off a tree and bit into it when, suddenly, someone loudly calling his name made him jump and drop it. He watched forlornly as it toppled over the edge of the platform and down to the rainforest floor far below.
"Sir? Soulmoon?" one of the healers tried behind him. When he turned he saw Scythe shuffling uncertainly from talon to talon in the doorway of the hut and felt embarrassed that he'd been so startled by the puny, weak healer's small voice.
"Yes, is she OK?" Soulmoon asked.
"She is fine," Scythe replied. "The egg was delivered fine. But..."
"What? What?" Soulmoon snapped impatiently. "What is it?"
"The egg didn't turn silver," Scythe said, taking a step back. "It-"
But Soulmoon didn't let him finish. He pushed past the smaller NightWing and stepped inside the hut - and he'd been right. The egg wasn't silver. But it had turned a dark grey.
"What in the three moons?" Soulmoon demanded. "Why is it grey? It's meant to be silver. It's under the moons. Or if not silver, at least ebony."
"I don't know," Dawnmoon said from where she was watching him anxiously in the nest of leaves. "Maybe your spell did this to it."
Did it?
For the first time, Soulmoon felt uncertain about whether his choice had been the right one or not.
"Whatever," he said. "It hasn't cracked. So it doesn't matter."
Dawnmoon stroked the surface of the egg with a claw, but only lightly, as if she were afraid to touch it in case it did crack. She didn't say anything.
"It doesn't matter," Soulmoon said again, "because it's fine. Maybe I can cast a spell to-"
"NO!" Dawnmoon yelped. "No more spells on my egg! No. Please."
He sighed. "All right, all right! Fine. No more spells on the egg, got it." He sidled towards the door as if to leave.
"Please stay," Dawnmoon whispered, surprisingly. Soulmoon blinked, bewildered, for a moment, before nodding and walking over. He curled up around her, his massive size nearly dwarfing her, but couldn't fall asleep.
He hoped the egg would be all right.
He hoped.
----
== Part One: Wings of White ==
----
=== Chapter One ===
Light.
The dragonet wanted light.
The three full moons were calling to her. They were bright and silver. She didn't know how she knew; she just did.
As she pushed against the dark grey eggshell, it fell away with a crunchy crack and the dragonet promptly stuck her tiny snout through. A few sharp bits left scraped her jaw but she didn't care; the light was calling her now.
It was close.
She spread her tiny wings in the eggshell, flinging them out with such force that the entire eggshell splintered into thousands of tiny pieces.
And there she was, and felt her mother curled around her. She gave a little chrrrp sound and wriggled towards the giant warmth.
Terrible things swarmed her head - worry, fear, blood, violence, darkness - but also good things; relief, joy, gratefulness, excitement, fun.
"Welcome to Pyrrhia, Whitemoon," Mother whispered. Father gave a small grunt of approval.
She belonged here.
This was where she was meant to be.
Silence. Then, of course, someone had to ruin the moment.
Someone like Father.
"Why does she even look like that?" he suddenly snapped. "She's meant to be pure white. Look, she still has black. And she's more light grey."
"That's good enough, though, isn't it?" Mother replied. Whitemoon felt her tucking her closer. "And don't even think of casting any more spells on her. Look, she has black scales by her eyes. They might not be silver, but she sure can read minds."
She could, in fact. She heard all of the bitter, violent, dark tragedy inside her father's head. But stronger than all the shadows was light and love, and Whitemoon decided she could accept him. For now.
"You're right," he muttered. "Maybe I still should have made the enchantment clearer, though, those twelve months ago, when you had her."
"Maybe you should have," Mother replied fiercely, "but it doesn't matter now, anyway. She might not be perfect, but she's beautiful."
"I wonder why it took a year for her to incubate," Father said, half-ignoring her response, probably trying to change the subject.
"Maybe it was the spell."
"Maybe."
They sat in silence for a while, leaving all the violence to wash over them. They loved each other, though, and the light in their minds and futures was more than the darkness.
Then Whitemoon heard someone else enter the room, and his mind and future was calm and peaceful, except for the occasional blood here and there.
"Ah," the peaceful dragon said. "So she hatched. So looks... odd."
"I know," Father hissed.
"At least she has the powers, though," Peaceful (Whitemoon's new nickname for him) said. "It looks like she's got the teardrop scales. Though they are, er, quite, well, dark."
"I know, I know, I know," Whitemoon's father snarled back. "But she is perfect."
He does like me, Whitemoon thought - well, more so felt.
She checked the futures, thinking they were her own memories.
She checked the blood.
The violence.
The red.
And for the first time, she realised that she could either follow the path with light at the end, or follow the one swamped in shadows.
The light path was longer.
And then, Whitemoon noticed, that the dark path was closer to her.
Darkness would enter and stay in her life, whether she liked it or not.
----
=== Chapter Two ===
It was about four months later, when Whitemoon could form words and walk, when she learned everyone's names. Scythe. Soulmoon. Dawnmoon. She felt that Peaceful certainly suited Scythe much better than his actual name.
Also, Soulmoon was the worst.
She barely understood what he'd done to her egg while it was still inside her mother, but she knew that it was a bad, bad, terrible, bad, horrifying thing. Maybe that was why all the other NightWing nobles gave her looks every time she passed them. Maybe not.
It could also be because of her colour. Whenever she looked at the other NightWings in her family, since she wasn't permitted to leave the Noble District to the "poorer dragons", they were almost black in colour, whereas she was white and light grey and only had a little black on her. She hated hearing in their minds - her parents had told her that she could read minds and see every future - how weird she was, and how it was even weirder that she had black scales by her eyes instead of silver, which was the colour they were meant to be if a NightWing could read minds.
Then again, she'd also been told that her colour was a part of the terrible spell, too.
Or it could also be because of her disability.
She just knew that she hated her father.
Dawnmoon was very nice to Whitemoon. She comforted her when she was low, so Whitemoon did the same in return. The only thing was that Dawnmoon loved Soulmoon (Whitemoon didn't get what she saw in him), so that was a little hard to deal with.
Either way, everyone hated her. Well, except her mother. And sometimes she thought Peaceful-Scythe did too. Also, maybe Soulmoon did as well, but that was one-sided.
Whitemoon's family was pure nobles, because they were the richest and the closest to the RainWing queen. They all lived in different houses and became a new section once one of the children had dragonets. For example, the Fates lived above their house, so all the word after the first one was all fate. For example, one of Whitemoon's aunts, Lightfate, lived there.
It was the same for all the other sections. That was why all the dragons in her section had "moon" as their last word. It was very confusing, in her opinion.
Right now she was eating a bunch of grapes. She knew they were grapes because they were ovular instead of round or lumpy. Also, her talons felt a little sticky.
"I'm going out," a loud voice called. It was loud because Whitemoon had grown used to relying on her other senses rather than her sight. She recognised the voice as Dawnmoon, her mother's.
"Where are you going?" Whitemoon asked quietly.
"I have to work," said Dawnmoon. "Starseeker wants me to work at night, too."
"Oh," Whitemoon replied, "Starseeker." Starseeker was the mother of all the Masters and Mistresses of the houses. She was very violent; the first time Whitemoon had been introduced to her, Starseeker had hated her.
Dawnmoon was Starseeker's best cook. She was always working for her, every day, and it made Whitemoon extremely upset, especially when it only left her father to hang out with her. Then again, Soulmoon also had to work for Queen Iridescent, too. So maybe that was a bonus, too. But still, hanging out with Mother was better than being alone.
Soulmoon was probably the queen's best guard. He loved to look out through the rainforest and check if his own family were up to no good. It was a tiring job. Whitemoon knew that because she'd heard it in his mind. But it was also an honour. Soulmoon should be more grateful.
"Bye!" Dawnmoon was saying and Whitemoon heard the door slam shut behind her.
Whitemoon sighed. According to her calculations, and also by reading her mother's mind and the future (she could at least see the futures), it was evening right now. So her father would be back any minute.
Maybe I can get out now.
She loved to escape home and go out, feeling the cold night wind on her scales. Luckily Soulmoon was almost as blind as her, though given from her futures' descriptions of the moons, if they glinted off of her scales, she should be glowing like snow at night.
Sometimes she also went to the healer's dome, which was also the hatchery, and hanging out with Peaceful.
She decided to leave and felt her way around. When she started to slip out the door, however, in one of the closest futures to her, Soulmoon was winging his way towards her right... now.
What is she doing? How does she know where to go?
Soulmoon's thoughts were raging and angry as he touched down on the platform next to her. "What are you doing!" he snapped.
"Nothing, father," she replied quietly. She heard Soulmoon take a few deep breaths and felt him put a wing around her. She flinched away; hurt pulsed through his head, but she ignored it.
"Well, you'd better go to sleep," he said. "It's almost night."
It wasn't, really; even Whitemoon could tell that. It was actually quite light, and judging by the thoughts in Soulmoon's head, he was thinking that, because she couldn't see, she wouldn't be able to tell what he was doing.
But there was no arguing with the Masters or Mistresses. Or an animus, for that matter.
"All right, father," she said and stepped back inside. Her quiet nature was swamped with rage and anger and she couldn't help but add, "Can I tell you something?"
Soulmoon blinked in surprise. "Of course. What is it?"
Whitemoon let a small smile quirk the corners of her mouth. "You can't trick me anymore," she said. "I see everything."
She left him buried in confusion as she made her way to her bed.
----
=== Chapter Three ===
Her bed was a large wooden slab covered with a thick leaf blanket, according to her visions. As Whitemoon lifted herself onto the slab, she felt around for her sloth-fur blanket and pulled it over her, but this time she couldn't sleep.
She rolled over onto her back and just... laid there. She stared into the darkness of her sight and let visions flood her mind. There were shadows there, and blood, which was a familiar sight to her now - she used her visions to navigate, too, so right now she could picture her room given the flow of images in her head.
Why should she listen to Father? Why shouldn't she just escape now?
But then, maybe someone would catch her. Besides, how could she not blunder into trees and all those other things? Also, she couldn't even fly yet. She needed to practise that. And she'd be easily spotted.
Apparently all the other dragons in her family thought she was adopted. So if she was caught escaping, the punishment would be against her mother and father (she didn't care what happened to Soulmoon, only Dawnmoon) and she'd probably be severely punished herself.
She didn't care. She slowly brought herself out of bed and sidled over to where the wind was coming strongest. Then, feeling around with her wings, she leaped out of the doorway.
A million futures crowded her head. Pain. Fear. Panic. Wind rushed by. She'd overleapt. She tried to spread her wings, but that weren't big enough.
I'm going to die. I was selfish.
"HELP!" she screamed but her voice was whipped away by the wind.
"You're very loud," a voice said, and then a very colourful-minded dragon swooped down below her and caught her.
Whitemoon slammed her eyes shut as they plummeted down towards the ground. They were falling, falling, falling...
And then there was a whoosh of wings and they slowly began to glide down to the ground. There was a light thud as the dragon touched down on the marshy rainforest floor.
The floor. She'd never touched the floor of the rainforest before. As she stepped off the dragon's back, it felt squishy and damp.
Then she realised - inside the dragon's mind, it seemed as though there were three of them. She turned to where she thought the dragon was, and as she faced him, a sharp shock shot through her mind.
This dragon - it had three heads.
She knew that because the dragon had a visual picture of its looks inside its head. Or heads, rather.
It was very colourful. It was Pantalan, and all three heads were male. It was yellow and pink and had three tails, and there were extremely violent, alarming, bloody thoughts coming from the left head.
"Hello," said Whitemoon.
"HI!" said a voice, a very different, exciteable voice. It was the SilkWing head, from the dragon's mind.
"Who are you?" Whitemoon asked.
"We're Crimson, Centipede and Bullet!" the SilkWing said, though Whitemoon had already gathered that from their minds. "I'm Crimson. That's Centipede, and that one is Bullet."
Whitemoon knew that, but she liked to witness dragons' shock when she said she was blind.
"Oh," she said softly.
"Why are your eyes so... weird?" Crimson asked. "They're, like, blank. There's no light to them."
Whitemoon winced. "I'm blind," she replied. "I can't see."
"Oh!" Crimson gasped. "Well, we're a three-headed dragon, and-"
"I know."
Crimson broke off abruptly. "What?" he said. "How?"
"I'm a mind reader," she replied. "I hatched on the brightest night, four months ago. I can see the future, too."
"Oh!" Centipede gasped. His mind was a lot calmer than Crimson's. "I heard about that. Why are your scales so weird?"
"I have no pigmentation in my colour," Whitemoon explained. "That's also why my eyes are blue instead of amber or black or whatever."
"Oh," Centipede replied. "That's interesting."
"What were you even doing, walking off the edge like that?" Bullet snapped suddenly. His mind was a flare of rage and anger.
"I did not walk off the edge," Whitemoon replied, letting a twinge of fury enter into her words. "I just couldn't see where I was going. Obviously, idiot."
Bullet snarled and Whitemoon had a flash of him snapping at her just before she stepped back. There was a small snap sound when she did.
"Hey, hey, calm it," Centipede said; because he was the middle head, Whitemoon realised, he was the one in control. "Can you fly... what's your name again?"
"My name is Whitemoon," she replied, "and no, I can't fly. Not yet. I'm only four months old, after all."
"Oh," Crimson said. "Interesting. We're, like, one year old. We were sent to Pyrrhia for being weird, so, yeah, that was sad but whatever, it's not important."
"Where were you going?" Centipede interrupted.
"Oh, nowhere in particular," Whitemoon replied. "I mean, I've never touched the forest floor before, so this is kind of a bonus. Bit too squishy and mulchy for my liking. Oh, also, I've never been outside my family's village."
"Woah!" Crimson gasped. "Your family lives in the Noble Village?"
"My family are the nobles," Whitemoon replied, flaring her wings to send up a whirlwind of leaves.
"So cool!" Crimson cried. "You must be rich."
"Well, yes," Whitemoon replied, "but it's not like I get my share of the treasure, of course."
Crimson started to say something but a loud yell interrupted him.
"WHITEMOON!" Soulmoon's voice cried. "WHERE ARE YOU? WE'RE MEANT TO BE GOING TO THE MEETING TONIGHT!"
"Oh," Whitemoon said. "The meeting with the queen. I forgot about that."
"With the QUEEN?" Crimson said, his voice cracking. "You're SO LUCKY."
"WHITEMOON!" Soulmoon roared again.
"I'd better go," Whitemoon said.
Normally she was an expert at masking her emotions, but her nervousness must have shown on her face, because Crimson said, "You're fine. It's like when you go to a music festival. You think it's gonna be bad, but it'll actually be really good."
"What is that meant to mean? That's, like, the worst analogy I've ever heard," Bullet said with a snort.
"Just - my point is, don't worry," Crimson continued, talking right over his brother.
Whitemoon nodded to them with a smile. "But... how do I get up there?"
She heard Centipede flare their wings, which, from her visions, were shaped like a LeafWing's.
The HiveWing said, "Oh, we can help with that."
---
It wasn't an easy plan, really.
Well, it wasn't in the sense that Whitemoon may be small, but the hydra wasn't too big themselves.
The plan was to carry her up to the platform.
At first, it started to go well. They'd gotten her up half the length of Whitemoon's tree, according to the hydra's words.
Then she started to slip out of their grasp, her scales too smooth.
"Oh, why are you so tidy?" Crimson fretted, craning his neck to look down at her.
"I think being tidy is better than being three-headed," Whitemoon heard Centipede mutter.
She yelped as their claws dug underneath her scales. "Ow!" she cried and flicked her wings.
Her wings...
"I'm fine!" she called. "It's fine!"
"I don't think you AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
The rush of wind.
Futures disappearing rapidly in her head.
The thought that she would die so soon; so young...
She flung out her white wings, her last hope.
WHOOOSH!
The feeling of failure as her last hope angled the wrong way.
Her eyes stung and the last thing she heard was a THUD and pain shot through her right before she felt the last flicker of consciousness in her mind extinguish.
----
=== Chapter Four ===
Starwings liked to fly.
He liked to fly because his powerful wings made it easier to.
Also, he'd just escaped from his cruel family, so that was an upside.
Also, he was an animus.
The thing was, he was in the Noble Family - the only family known to have the animus gene in the entire NightWing tribe (so, of course, he had to be related to them, else he wouldn't be an animus). His mother was Starseeker (who had two animus sons, hmm, kind of ironic). He was four years old. And he was an animus.
It wasn't that he liked it; no, not at all.
He hadn't been free in that life. He hadn't been allowed to explore his magic on his own. Instead, Mother had had a wife set out for him - a RainWing, at that! She had been planning for him to marry one of Queen Iridescent's daughters (the queen, by the way, had been in it, which Starwings was REALLY ANNOYED ABOUT). But Starwings hadn't loved Morning Glory. The RainWing was MUCH younger than him, and in his opinion, that was disgusting.
Also, Morning Glory loved Whitemoon, Starwings's niece.
Starwings didn't get what she saw in her.
He didn't think of her as a niece, really. He thought of her as more a sister. He was also literally younger than one of Starseeker's daughters, so THAT was embarrassing. Imagine, being younger than your niece! That was weird. Actually, he didn't want to have that thought right now.
Think about magic.
His last enchantment had been to make him fly faster and better. So he was swooping between the trees, but STILL crashed into them from time to time. SERIOUSLY. Was his magic BROKEN?
It was embarrassing, really, when he realised that he'd done a full circle right before he crashed into a manchineel.
He swore every curse word he knew under his breath and flapped his wings vigorously, trying to keep in the air. This manchineel wasn't that large. Actually, almost every tree in the rainforest was, like, GINORMOUS, which Starwings found SO WEIRD. Like, he felt like a BEETLE when he looked at them. And he couldn't even SEE THE TOPS. And it was SO WEIRD. And he'd just CRASHED INTO A TREE SO WHY WASN'T HE FOCUSING ON THAT DUMB STARWINGS.
He dug his claws into the manchineel and slowly climbed down. Hopefully, it wouldn't rain any time soon. Well, there weren't many deadly trees in the rainforest, so to crash into a manchineel was very rare and ANNOYING BECAUSE IT WAS SO SMALL.
Maybe I should enchant something to make me unable to CRASH INTO THINGS. I wish I could burn this tree down. Then again, if he did, he'd set the whole rainforest on fire. Probably. That wouldn't be fun.
He had left his family, he recalled as his thoughts returned to the Nobles. He had left his family, and taken on a new name. He didn't want to be reminded of them.
He had once been named after his mother. Starfate of the Nobles; that had been his title, then he'd changed his name to Starwings. Or, another former title was, Starseeker's Second Animus Pet. Starwings's brother, Soulmoon, was an animus, too. But Soulmoon didn't have dragonets related to him; no, his only dragonet was adopted, according to him. So no animus dragonets for Soulmoon, who had rolled over and submitted to his Mistress like a scavenger in a dragon's talons.
What a dumb brother.
Speaking of scavengers, he heard a quiet but loud array of squeaking. Wait, that didn't make sense. Hmm. He could tell they were trying to be quiet, but were actually very loud. That was better.
He flared his wings loudly to alert the creatures he was there.
They started to squeak rapidly as he slowly stepped closer. Then one of them stepped forwards and said, "Hello again, Starwings," in Dragon.
Starwings nodded to him. Using his own language, he replied, "Hello, Bronze."
"Do you have the money?"
"Not yet."
"Hmm." Bronze tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Wait, can't you just make money?"
"Oh, yes! I could!" Starwings said with a gasp.
He thought a spell in his mind, and instantly there were four piles of gems and rubies and golds and diamonds and any treasure one could think of.
Bronze stepped back. "Wow. That was... fast. Wings above, that is a lot."
"Yeah," Starwings replied. "And you owe me one."
"What could a magic dragon possibly want?" Bronze asked. "You can make anything."
Starwings hesitated, looking at his talons.
Then, he said, "Yes, but they can't bring loved ones back from the dead."
----
=== Chapter Five ===
Everything hurt.
From wings, to bones, to head, to claws, to tail.
Everything hurt.
Whitemoon wished the nightmares would end.
Sometimes, when she had visions, she wished that she was still blind when she saw them.
Blood.
Fire.
Darkness.
Light gleamed in a dragon's eyes.
A dragon with pale grey scales. A dragon with blind blue eyes. A dragon with a white underbelly, and pure white wings, and black teardrop scales by her eyes.
Whitemoon.
More blood.
More fire.
More darkness.
The dragon's claws were stained red.
Crimson. Splatters of crimson liquid that pooled around a dragon's body.
A dragon the colour of the midnight sky.
A dragon who had magic in his claws, but refused to say that he had dragonets.
A dragon related to a monster.
A dragon who had dark black eyes that sparkled under the moon.
A dragon who was a giant.
A dragon who was cruel.
A dragon who hated her.
A dragon like Soulmoon.
A dragon who was Soulmoon.
Slash.
She hadn't meant to.
She was only defending herself.
She had only meant to stun him. To stop him.
She hadn't meant to kill him.
With a great effort she rose to her talons.
The sky was dark.
The grass was rock.
There she saw a giant black dragon roaring in fury.
A dragon larger than Soulmoon.
A dragon with grey eyes.
A dragon with dark cyan wings.
A dragon with fury in her eyes.
A dragon who looked at her with hate.
A dragon who was commanding.
A dragon who was rich.
A dragon who was respected.
A dragon who showed no respect.
A dragon who used her children.
A dragon who had magic.
A voice.
Wings of hive, ice and flame.
She yelled as she reached towards a colourful dragon.
A dragon who was yellow and pink.
A dragon who was joyful, calm and violent, all at the same time.
A dragon with leaf-shaped wings.
A dragon with two sets of kind eyes.
A dragon with a pair of brutal eyes.
A dragon who argued.
A dragon with three heads.
Wings of night and leaf and rain.
She stared at another dragon, who was reaching towards her hopefully.
A dragon who was a princess.
A dragon with teal scales.
A dragon with yellow dots and patterns and swirls.
A dragon with bright blue eyes.
A dragon with hooked talons.
A dragon with a long, coiled tail.
A dragon with hopefulness in her expression.
A dragon who she distinctively remembered.
A dragon who was Queen Iridescent's youngest daughter.
A dragon called Morning Glory.
Darkness rises from the sea.
Another dragon entered her vision.
A dragon who turned away.
A dragon who had leaf-like wings.
A dragon with spikes.
A dragon with serrated claws.
A dragon with light green scales.
A dragon with dark blue eyes.
A dragon who was a hybrid.
Another one.
A dragon who had giant wings entered her peripheral vision.
A dragon with dull golden scales.
A dragon with unnatural green eyes.
A dragon who offered no warmth.
A dragon with a long tail.
A dragon with small horns.
A dragon with a hooked snout.
A dragon who she thought she knew, but didn't.
With waves that may never be tame.
By now she wasn't surprised to need to turn around.
She saw an ocean.
An ocean that was raging.
An ocean with blue and purple and green dragons swarming from it.
Dragons with phosphorescent scales.
Dragons with blazing eyes.
Dragons with sharp teeth.
Dragons who wanted revenge.
Hidden among the trees, lays a foe.
The dragon bigger than Father returned.
The dragon stared at her.
The dragon's eyes grew filled with rage.
The dragon flared her wings.
The dragon called upon an army of dark fire-breathing dragons.
And an army of colourful, venom-spitting dragons.
From the trees came a dragon.
A dragon with peach-coloured scales.
A dragon even taller than the dark one.
And an army that no one may know.
Another image.
A battle.
Blood.
Shadows.
Darkness.
Pain.
Fury.
Fear.
The battle coming is only seen,
by the one who is to snow.
She recited the words in her mind again.
Wings of hive, ice and flame,
wings of night and leaf and rain.
Darkness rises from the sea,
with waves that may never be tame.
Hidden among the trees, lays a foe,
and an army that no one may know.
The battle coming is only seen,
by the one who is to snow.
----
== Part Two: Wings of Sight ==
----
=== Chapter Six ===
Three moons, she'd odd.
I know, right? I don't know why Dawnmoon kept her.
That dragon is super weird. You have to deal with her soon.
I know. She'll be dead by dawn, both her and the dragonet. Don't you worry.
Why does the dragonet keep whispering to herself?
I'm not sure. But if it's a prophecy, why wouldn't any of the more skilled seers have had it?
It is very strange. She's still asleep, so it must be a prophecy.
You're right.
Do it.
Kill her?
Do it; kill her now.
No.
She wasn't going to die.
Not so young.
Whitemoon surged up with fury just as a dragon plunged his claws into her thigh. She let out a scream of rage and agony and tucked her head into her shoulders, then rolled over and over.
CRASH!
She accidentally bumped into a tree, and felt a dragon jump on top of her, pinning her down.
Suddenly, as the dragon's claws touched her scales, she felt something almost silky in between them.
Were the talons... webbed?
Were SeaWings holding her hostage?
Was the prophecy about to come true?
She sank her teeth into one of the webs between the SeaWing's talons. The SeaWing roared with pain and a droplet of blood splashed against Whitemoon's snout. She scrambled to her talons and backed up, up, up, against the tree.
Wait, no - that wasn't a tree.
Loud, angry thoughts.
Father.
"What are you doing?" Soulmoon roared. Whitemoon already knew that he was giant from visions, and also from other dragons' uncomfortable thoughts about it.
For a moment she thought he was talking to him. Then she realised that, no, he was talking to the SeaWings.
"Who are you?" snarled the SeaWing who'd first attacked her.
"My name is Soulmoon," said Father.
"Soulmoon," muttered the second SeaWing. "My name is Betta."
"Why are you trying to kill my daughter?" Soulmoon hissed.
"What can you do about it?" the first snarled. "You may be big, but there's two of us."
"I have animus magic," Soulmoon declared. A rush of wind swooping into Whitemoon's face told her that he'd flared his grand wings.
"A real animus?" Betta gasped.
"Yes," Soulmoon growled, "I am a real animus. And if you don't leave the rainforest right now, you're dead."
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon)
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)