Animus

Prologue

There was a dragonet on the mountain; on the highest peak. She was small, with scales a deep purplish-red that twinkled in the moonlight. It gave her an otherworldly glimmer, like she was some monster that had crawled straight out of the ashes of another life. Behind her lay an eggshell, cleaved in two, as silver as the moonlight itself. The dragonet stood, and her eyes, that once had been sealed shut, snapped open.

And her eyes burned with a golden flame as she stared at the two dragons on the hill. Both, she realized, were a beautiful red. One was female, and she looked as if she's had been dipped in blood. Her horns were long and twisting, and her eyes were like a piercing golden laser. They were examining her, deciding if she was worth keeping or should merely be discarded. The male, on the other hand, he was a dull red, the Red of flames and fresh coals burning on the fire. He appeared to be wreathed in flame, with faint yellow flickering patterns enveloping him. Smoke seemed to emanating from him, a silver cloud that curled from his nostrils and scales, winding up into the night.
Mother, she knew instinctively. The female was Mother. Mother meant safety, mother meant love and protection. But the other, the male, he was dangerous. Instinctively, she hated him. He carried danger like it was a bad odor he couldn't shake, and he had an aura of untrustworthiness. Her talons dug into the earth, and the tiny dragonet looked into those brilliant blue eyes that glowed with malevolent flame unflinchingly. She would not be scared. She would never fear anything at all. Nothing was worth fearing.
"I wish Blacksky had been here to see this," the female growled, staring with wistfulness into the dark shadows of the night. The dragonet reached out, because she felt something. It was a pool, begging to be explored. Thoughts swam round in this dark pool the colour of dragon blood, and these thoughts were dark and fearful.
They were thoughts of a black dragon, large and powerful, with the stars painted in his wings. A dragon who laughed with mother, who loved her and protected her. Who had been taken, snatched by claws of evil. And came back maimed and broken, scarred and with loathing practically reeking off him. Oathbreaker, he called himself now. Her beautiful, precious Oathbreaker, lost to the world. He should be here for this, to see his dragonet. Their dragonets. Their beautiful, precious dragonets. So, the dragonet mused, this strange, broken black dragon was Father. And Father was not worth her time.

The dragonet looked into Mother's mind again. Peeked into that pool of darkness. There were worries and fears, clogging up the water and making it murky. Blotting out all the light. Insecurities of a leader who thought she had failed her citizens, a Queen. - I have failed them, I have failed them, brought them a weak king and hybrid daughters. They will hate me, they will hate me- That was the word the dragonet saw. Queen. Someone who lead armies into battle, commanded legions and inspired terror. -What kind of a Queen am I to do this to my people? What kind of a Queen?- That was who Mother was.

The one with the flames spoke again, and his voice was gravely. It sounded like ash and embers had found a voice and were talking, and it all seemed so unnatural and wrong. Like the mountain had stolen his voice.

"Tanager, you must not forget. He is Oathbreaker now. Your King."

The dragonet looked inside his mind, Eld's mind, tearing down the walls and exploring. His mind was fire, blazing and burning, wild and full of fury. The thoughts that flew about hummed in anger and dead wrath, and the dragonet did not understand half of them. -Oathbreaker, Oathbreaker I hate him he does not deserve her love he is not worthy- and -If only she would look at me the way she looks at him- and -I want to sink my talons into his dragonets and turn them into ashes and cinders. His thoughts were wild and confusing, roaring and loud. A strange heat was coming from his mind, and it was clogging her mind with hateful thoughts. There was such a tide of them, such a fiery blaze that she couldn't ignore them. Couldn't make them stop invading her head.