Last of the Lost

Last of the Lost is Fierro's interpretation of a potential sixteenth book in the Wings of Fire series. It includes themes of depression and despair, as well as potential gore and death.
====== Prophecy. ======
A bitter blade rips through the air,
A teardrop to catch the sun's final flare.
An echoing remnant of a kite's dying cry,
A bolt of fire to split the sky.
The majestic jaguar with scales of rock,
The exotic bird that knows not to flock,
The humble ant with ice in her core,
The deadly snake with destruction in store.
The rarest unity of long fortold,
Joins together to save the world.
It's only at the end that they will know,
Pyrrhia's final hope died long ago.
==== Blurb. ====
Everything is better now... or is it?
It's been ten years since Pantala was freed from the Breath of Evil. Finally, the two continents have achieved what has been long overdue- all ten tribes are at peace, and trade routes have been set between them by way of overseas highways. There are no wars. There are no new threats to the dragons. Tribes can mingle freely and hybrid dragonets are becoming more common. The wonderful world long awaited.
As a dragonet of Prince Vermillion hatched post-liberation, Parvati of the SkyWings has never known hardship as the previous generations have. Pampered as the only SkyWing princess, she is content with her own life. But as of late, as many SkyWings are repeatedly killed in an oddly similar way, HiveWings are disappearing, and RainWings are maimed and rendered unable to speak, Parvati becomes more and more uneasy. When she realizes that her family won't do anything about the mystery, she decides to investigate it herself. The problem is, Parvati doesn't have the faintest idea where to start, nor does she have the resources to act. And the friends she makes along the way aren't exactly heroes either. 
When she is horrified by a chilling discovery on the case, Parvati realizes that she may have bitten off more than she can chew. And now the fate of the continents... rests on her shoulders alone. 
== Prologue ==
In the rainforest...
Tamarin stretched in the sunlight and rolled over onto her back, her jaws stretching open in a wide yawn. It had been a fairly productive morning- she had found a specimen that every flower gatherer in the rainforest had throught extinct. With Glory's approval she'd planted seeds in a few places across the rainforest, and if all went well she could plant nearly twice as much in a year.
The RainWing groaned as she got up. Those slug-eating burn scars are acting up again. The burns had long since stopped hurting, but the skin was still tender and the muscles underneath were stiff. At least Glory had decided that the village where Tamarin lived had gotten enough improvements- it had been a nightmare navigating it when you could never be sure whether you were about to smack right into a pile of vines or newly laid bricks. In the end, she'd needed a guide, much to her chagrin.
Tamarin spread her wings and flew in the direction of the palace. One of her fellow flower gatherers, Tropic, had wanted her opinion on weaving orchids into Princess Firefly's crown. Except that orchids weren't exactly good crown material, and Tamarin had to talk sense into Tropic's head soon. She had nearly reached the palace when she heard familiar wingbeats. "Kinkajou?"
She waited for her friend's excited voice, but she heard nothing. Only a sharp intake of breath.
"...Kinkajou?" Tamarin asked, a little more uneasily this time. It wasn't like her to be so quiet. Kinkajou was right in front of her now- she could feel her warm breath. But why wasn't she talking?
A sour smell washed over Tamarin's nostrils and she gasped with shock. She knew that smell. She'd smelled it before. Blood.
Cautiously she felt up Kinkajou's shoulders, then her neck and finally her snout. When she touched Kinkajou's mouth, her talons came away warm and wet, and her friend shrank back with a hiss. "Who did this to you?" Tamarin demanded.
In Jewel Hive...
Blue woke up with an uncomfortable ache in his throat and an overwhelming desire to go back to sleep. Something was prodding him in his side, and he batted at it weakly. "Goawayit'snottimetogetupyet," he mumbled.
"Blue? BLUE!"
He recognized Bumblebee's voice. "What? This had better be good," Blue complained as his adopted daughter turned the silk hammock he was in over, sending him tumbling to the floor. Luckily, the soft carpet provided a comfortable landing. "Found another interesting bug again?" He joked. Bumblebee studied insects of all shapes and sizes.
"I'm serious," she snapped as she pried one of Blue's eyes open. "Have you seen Cricket? 'Cause I haven't seen her since, like, a day ago. I thought she might be on a trip or something, but it's not like her to leave without telling me. Did she tell you?" 
"No," Blue said, alarmed and now fully awake. "Maybe she just took a trip to Pyrrhia. Maybe she'll be fine," he added hopefully.
"Maybe," Bumblebee said, unconvinced. She turned and flew off, her four wings buzzing and shimmering in the sun.
Blue watched her go. She was right. It wasn't like Cricket to leave without telling him or Bumblebee, and hadn't she mentioned not wanting to go to the mainland until their egg was laid? It would be dangerous to fly over the ocean in her condition. And what if she got hurt somewhere?
Blue shook his head worriedly and turned his pillow over. His heart caught in his throat as he spotted a small piece of paper underneath. Snatching it up, he skimmed quickly over it and he gasped involuntarily. Things are much worse than I thought.
In Possibility...
Thrush was convinced that the undead did not exist. Despite the multiple SkyWing ghost stories
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Content (~warmbluevanilla~)
Category:Genre (Prophecy)