On Destiny's Wings: A Journey of Embers (UNDERGOING REVISIONS)

Prologue: A Legend is Born

The land was rocky and cold. Tall mountain peaks laden with snow towered into the cloud-thickened atmosphere, thrusting spires of naked rock into the heavens so high that you would believe the very sky was pierced. They were eerily silhouetted against a distant orange moon. The wind howled mercilessly, pushing through the pointy groaning trees. A thin layer of white adorned the ground, displaying large paw prints that crackled with frost around the edges.

Nothing seemed to stir, when suddenly, a dark shadow pushed through a lace of tangled brambles. Two rough horns emerged first, jagged and uneven like stalactites. An aged muzzle followed, crooked and pale red beneath the blackened sky. A pair of glowing green eyes blinked hesitantly into the night before the rest of his body was unveiled. A set of elegant crimson wings fluttered once, and four massive paws tiptoed over the crunchy ivory blanket. They were adorned with hooked claws long enough to dwarf a spear.

The fire colored dragon let out a shaky sigh and frantically scuttled to the safety of the trees. He held up his tail so as not to leave obvious tracks, curling it in on itself until the frills at the tip brushed his backside. He tucked in his large wings and sprinted through the undergrowth, his paw-steps quieter than a mouse's.

He could have been running for hours before he came to a stop at the base of a rocky outcrop. The dragon tilted his head and peered up at the sheer cliff above. He knew he would not be able to fly there, he would surely be spotted by his pursuers. Instead, the massive reptile leaped onto the interface, slicing his claws into the stones and grappling upwards. For extra thrust, he used his wings, which came to a sharp point at one of the joints. The poor old dragon huffed and puffed with every move. His bones seemed to scream in protest until he reached the top.

With a flop, his crimson body rolled onto the flat surface of the cliff, revealing a large wound in the shape of three claws beneath his left wing. It bled profusely, staining the dull grey rocks a brilliant ruby red. He had not the energy to keep going. Ahead, a giant hollow cave yawned into the side of the cliffs. It towered over him and sucked in all light around it. That was where he was needed, but he couldn't get to his feet.

Please be there, he thought urgently. He feared not for the sake of his life, but for the sake of his kingdom.

It was as if his silent pleas had been answered. A pair of smaller dragons rushed out of the cave, one of them male, a dull ruddy red, the other a shimmering orange, a female. They flapped their wings to get to him faster, coming to a clumsy halt just beside his quivering frame. The orange dragoness quickly began tending to wounds, pressing cloths of white and grey to the area where the old dragon was gashed. He winced and clenched his big canines together. The other male sat frightened beside the dragoness, glancing down nervously without words to be spoken. His eyes shone brown into the night.

"Dear Firebreath, what has happened to you?" the citrus colored dragoness finally quarried.

Firebreath hissed again at the pain of the fabric against his wounds, "I went to the Snow Kingdom with two other spotters, just as the queen had commanded. We got there, and the WindClaws welcomed us."

"Then why are you half dead, brother?" the dull red dragon questioned shakily. Firebreath took the younger male's claws in his.

"Scalder, my sibling," Firebreath wheezed, "is the queen with you?"

"Yes, brother. Tinderseer and myself asked for her personally," Scalder answered, gesturing to the orange dragoness beside him.

"Tinderseer, your husband-" Firebreath began to say, but Tinderseer cut him off. Her bright blue eyes dampened, and tiny pearl-like droplets fell from her cheeks.

"He's dead. Yes Firebreath, I knew the moment he did not return with you. He was an excellent spotter. But now is not the time for grief, you must tell the queen what is going on."