Wings Of Fire Oneshots

A Fall (❗️💀🫀🩹💔)

Everything hurts...

Cottonmouth trudged through the endless jungle, his legs burning and feeling as though they were about to fall off.

He had been walking through this hell for weeks now, barely scraping by.

He had ran out of his rations a lot while ago. Then again, those cheapskates back there barely gave him anything before giving him the boot.

How barbaric.

A life of luxury and modernity, stripped away for nothing. All for this stupid dragon egg, one that remained a constant reminder as to what he had to do.

He refused to eat it or even destroy it. Despite all of what the stupid thing had done, he wasn't giving up.

Even if it meant him dying.

If he was dying, the egg had to come to. He's the leader of this whole operation. He's the one who makes the choices. He's the one who should decide how to raise this thing, regardless of what else anybody else may say.

He's Cottonmouth, and by the moons it'll be like that forever.

The man had lost his followers a few days ago. They were ambushed by a couple of jaguars and Cottonmouth, being the most intelligent person there, fled.

Those followers would've betrayed him at the first chance they got anyways. They weren't his 'friends', not even a pawn for him to use. They were unreliable and dangerous to the mission.

Cottonmouth was here for a reason. Well, besides his coop being discovered and being sent to the 'Wild Plains', he was going to restart his project once more. A handful of the other members of the group had joined with him in secret, arriving a few days after the boat had dropped him off.

He still couldn't believe that they managed to keep the stupid dragon's egg hidden and away from the emperor for so long.

It was one of the last eggs from the project. The others were either destroyed or placed back into dragon dens.

It's almost agonizing to think about how stupid the empires were. They had not realized the greatness of his plan, believing him to be a mad man.

Everything would've worked out if Emperor Copper had just listened to his assistant for once.

Now look at him. Disheveled and right on death's door.

Hunger had been scraping at his sanity for a while now, yet he still kept his composure.

Mostly.

Regardless, despite having so much faith in this project working, he wasn't opposed to the idea of giving up. However, if he were to succumb and allow for his body to give way and his soul to move on, this stupid egg must come with him too.

If his plan, his grand achievement, was going to die, it would only be when he himself would die along with the remaining dragons.

Sure, when he imagined this glorious way of going out, he pictured himself blowing up a building with him inside. Something magnificent, one that would have his name go down in history. Cottonmouth, the great... whatever.

Point being that he did not imagine dying of starvation on a foreign continent being the way he would've died.

Cottonmouth continued his journey deeper into the woods, guided by only a sense of spite and anger. His legs were sore and his feet felt blistered and like they were moments away from turning to dust. His arms ached and were tired from carrying this massive fifteen-pound egg. It glistened a dull sand-like orange with spots of forest green dotted all over it. It was definitely not the most beautiful egg that he had seen, he had much preferred the eggs of the dragons with star-like wings.