The Only RainWing in the War

Unconscious II (Deathbringer)

     WARNING! This chapter has mentions of abuse, some minor blood, and a SUPER EVIL AND VERY STUPID DRAGON. If any of this triggers you, please skip this chapter and just read the summery at the end.

     KEY:

     Italic=dream/flashback

     Underlined Italic = just a main thought, like a main idea.

     Normal = waking commentary

     Bold = Author's Notes

     Deathbringer's POV:

     It was the night without the light in a place as dark as a dungeon.

     That's when it first happened. When my first memory of pain was embedded in my mind.

     I was two years old. I lived in the Night Kingdom, an island away from Pyrrhia. I heard that Pyrrhia was the "mainland" or a continent. I was always curious about it, partly to see it and partly to escape my life here.

     I suppose no NightWing dragonet has an easy life growing up here, but I'm pretty certain I had a much rougher time than most.

     My mother, Quickstrike, was okay. She went on missions to Pyrrhia a lot, but I wasn't allowed to go with her. She was also mistreated by my father, and I had no idea why she didn't do anything about it. After all, she was an assassin. A very good one.

     My father... my father.

     I don't remember his name and I don't want to. I don't speak to him today and I wouldn't if I had the chance.

     He was worse than horrible. He shouldn't even be called my father, but unfortunately DNA must have something against me because he is.

     Even before I was two years old, father was never very pleasant to me. He treated me like a slave, though he didn't actually physically pain me at that age. Keep in mind... that was before I was two.

     My mother also didn't exactly treat me like a son, but she didn't treat me too harshly. She trained me and advised me, and she always rooted for me. That was all.

     My mother and my father didn't have the best relationship to be honest. They met in a breeding program. NightWing numbers were slipping fast, so everyone was paired up to breed. They didn't have a choice.

     Most eggs came out cracked. I was one of the lucky ones... at the time. Now I wish my egg had just broken like the rest.

     NightWings were liars, but my father was the worst. Bragging about being a hero, killing dragons. He brought skulls from previous war zones as "proof," but he hadn't actually killed them himself. Some became skeptical as he kept bringing only bones. Some whispered they needed fresh proof.

     That's why at age two years old, I became more than a slave to my father... I became a phantom. His experiment, kind of. I was lucky that he didn't want to study any part of me or what poison does to a dragon or any of that nonsense. No, he just wanted to use me as fake proof.

     You see, my father had it all figured out. I was young so my blood was very red, rather than the purplish tinge NightWing blood gained as they got older. My blood looked like the blood of another tribe. Or, if he wanted to imitate an IceWing, he just put a coloring chemical and flour to thicken it if he wanted to (obviously to a vial, not the blood that was in my body.)