Wings of Fire: Crazy Kids

Chapter One

"No," Glace snarled, wilting internally as the hopeful kindness fell from her eyes, "don't pull that crap.  If you loved me, you wouldn't be making me do this.  But guess what, I don't care, because I don't love you either.  I hate you."

Eira shrunk into her wings, her eyes dull and sad.  "I'll visit lots," she promised.  Glace grunted and lifted off, powering away from her.  Of course he didn't hate his sister.  Of course he'd die for her, of course he loved her. 

This was just so freaking dumb and frustrating.

The Titanium Winglet was the newest instalment at Jade Mountain Academy.  It was specifically set aside for dragons under the "mentally scarred" umbrella.  It was an OK idea, Glace guessed, but not for him.  He was safely under the umbrella of "normal IceWings who don't have terrifying flashbacks of their mother's death and definitely don't attack other dragons for no reason".

But Eira was his legal guardian, at least until he turned seven, and she was still the boss of him no matter how much he hated it.  Just five more months, he thought.  She can't tell me what to do when I'm an adult.  I just have to put up with this stupid unnecessary therapy for five months, and then I can go home, if they haven't already let me go by then after realizing how totally sane I am. 

With a heavy thump, Glace landed on the stone ledge outside the entrance of the academy.  To his left, a pair of small SeaWings yelped and bounded away from him, leaving the marbles they'd been playing with behind as they hid behind a scraggly bush.

Glace ignored them, stepped carefully over their game, and entered the mountain.  A narrow female SandWing sat behind a semicircle desk, her snout buried in some sort of letter.  Glace tapped his claws on the floor and cleared his throat impatiently.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" The SandWing cried, finally noticing him.  She stuffed the paper away into a drawer and smiled brightly at Glace.  "Hi there, hi," she greeted.  "Are you a student?"

"I guess," he grumbled, glancing disdainfully at the distant, glittering shard of white that was his sister, winging away, leaving him alone. 

"Neat.  Great.  What winglet?" The SandWing asked.

"Titanium," Glace hissed, his heart wrenching when he realized that Eira could no longer be seen.

"Alright, that means you must be..." she sifted through a stack of papers, buzzing with annoying energy, "Glace, right?"

He nodded.

"Neat," the SandWing said again.  "I'm Summer, by the way.  I think you're gonna love your clawmate.  He's a RainWing."  She held out a slip of paper to him with a glowing smile. 

"Great," he said unenthusiastically, taking the paper and peering at it. 

"Oh no, you can read right?" Summer asked.  Her voice was clear of any sort of malice, but Glace immediately took it as an insult.

"Of course I can read," he snapped.  "I'm not an idiot, you know."

"S-sorry, I just thought... well, some dragonets—"

"Whatever," he grunted, cutting her off.  Without another word, he stalked away.  Room 142, he thought.  This school had grown significantly since the great dragonets of the prophecy had started it up 200 years ago. 

If he remembered correctly, there were originally only five winglets—Jade, Gold, Silver, Copper, and Quartz.  Now there was also Crystal, Obsidian, Sapphire, Nickel, Diamond, Amethyst, Moonstone, Jasper, Emerald, Coal, Iron, Sandstone... and about three dozen others that Glace could never be bothered to memorize.