chapter eleven

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The burning look in the prince's eyes vanished as soon as it came.

Suddenly he looked normal.

He looked concerned.

He looked...


But he turned and walked away, his wings up in a fancy movement, and his head in an arched angle.

He strutted totally away, leaving a confused ginger alone. She wasn't even sure if he had really looked at her that way, or if her imagination had gone wild in the midst of all the drama of Jade.

Suddenly something hit her.

This is Jade Mountain. She thought. And her name is Jade.

Storm shivered. Is there a connection? Her talons clenched as something strange flew through her inside-skull.


She scrambled forward, skidding out of the doorway, desperate to find the prince. She slipped around a corner, flipping her head to the side. Where is he?

She heard a scream, and a dark feeling settled in her stomach. No, no, no, no, no, no, no...

She slowly turned the corner, not to see a dead prince, but instead something different.

She blinked.


She blinked again.

Still nothing.

All there was was a scattering of white scales, no blood or corpses.

Jade Mountain was safe.

She flexed her wings gently, tipping up her nose in an orderly manner. "If there is no death, then these must be disposed of." She muttered to herself, sweeping her ginger wing around the white scales.

They turned a strange yellow color at her touch, but she ignored it and scooped it into her talon.

They had a strange rubbery texture to them, quite unlike regular scales.

She felt uneasy about carrying them as she made her way to her winglet, her wings shifting uncomfortably every time someone passed by.

She reached her room moments later, and dropped the yellowish scales in a pile on her bed.

They turned gray.

It was absolutely disgusting in her mind, it looked like a shapeshifting pile of dung.

A shudder ran down the SkyWing's spine as she scooted away from it. She adverted her gaze as bile rose in her throat.

She couldn't shake the sickness in her belly, no matter how hard she tried. Something about the presence made her disgusted.

But something was forcing Storm to keep it near, no matter how bitterly vile it was. A fierce protectiveness seemed to encase her, making her flinch at every sound and snarl at every shadow.

Something was wrong.

Her scales flicked to a pink, rosy and flowerlike. She had no eyes but she saw just as well as any dragon. She had no ears but she could hear. She had no nose but she could smell. She had no mouth, that was the only problem. No pattern of speech.

The ginger dragon moved near her, passing a disgusted look at her. But she could tell that behind the looks, a rabid sense of protectiveness had passed over her.


Storm jerked her eyes open, her wings trembling. She moved her head to the side, eyeing the now-pink scales.

Pink. Horror passed over her. Like the dream.

Mojave was sleeping near her, one wing stretched out to her. Usually she would have minded, but his scales radiated heat, so she was quite comfortable.

She stood up and walked towards the scales. They gave off a strange sense that she was being watched, and Storm shuddered inwardly.

The SkyWing shifted uncomfortably. Her wings twitched, and she pulled them close to herself.


She knew someone was watching her.



Storm turned her head quickly, eyes wide.

Then darkness.

AN- Oof
this was

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