Kingdoms Falling

Chapter 11

Meadow wanted to wake up.

Waking up sounded like a brilliant idea.   

His dreams were filled with death and torment. Everywhere he looked, he saw nothing, but flames and blood. And screaming. The screaming was horrible. It made him want to rip off his ears and stuff them with cotton, as though that would help the situation at all. He ground his teeth, and did his best to stifle the earth-shattering sounds of worlds crumbling away beneath his talons. He wanted nothing more to wake up, to escape from the sticky claws of danger and responsibility from a world desperate for his protection.

And wake up he did. 

In a cold, dark, damp cell with concrete walls and iron bars. His hind talons were chained to said walls, and his wings were clamped tightly to his sides by large metal loops. The moment he attempted to pull himself free, the chains tightened, and he growled, knowing he was trapped.

Great. 

Of course, the question was less why as who. Certainly, the citizens, no matter how horrible they were, would never do this to a dragon who'd come to protect them. Especially not a member of the Winged Five! It wasn't like his team's name was lost to all the Realms. Almost everyone knew who they were. 

So why kidnap me?

 Naturally, there were several possibilities. Ransom, leverage, and information were the most obvious. All logical conclusions. But, somehow, they all felt wrong. No, this was something else. He grimaced as he twisted back to investigate the restraints. It was much too personal. He'd seen prisoners being taken to and from cell blocks before, on a field trip, many years before and they had never had the kind of chains he now found himself with. Whoever had ordered this, had made sure to put him in the cruelest, most humiliating position possible. Weak. Helpless. Confused. 

What had he been doing before all of this? Why was he having trouble remembering? 

The library. He'd been the library. Writing...writing what? A letter? Had he been writing a letter? His head throbbed, and he winced as his brain whirled in confused circles, ultimately getting nowhere. But, if he'd been writing a letter, then where was it? Did someone find it? Or was there something more going on that he didn't know about? And, of course, the most important questions: Who was doing this? Why? 

Several dragons in the next few cells began growling and hissing, and the sound of clattering talons could be heard over the roaring waterfall. They were approaching his cell. 

Well, at least I'm about to get the answer to one of those questions.

A shadow fell across the floor before him and Meadow found himself staring up into the cruel eyes of the last dragon he ever wanted to see. He wasn't Lionfish, but he was almost as awful. A dark gray dragon with gleeful golden eyes and far too many pieces of decoration dangling from his body. A dragon who absolutely despised his very existence. 

Flounder. His father. 

Or...adoptive father, as he now knew. 

"Meadow." There was not a single thread of love in the older drake's words. It was enough to make even the iceberg-filled water of Tundrae seem almost pleasant, and Meadow couldn't help, but shiver. 

"Flounder," Meadow repeated in the same cool tone. "I suppose you have an excellent explanation for this?" He lifted the chains pointedly. 

The gray dragon glared down his snout. "I see your time away from us has done nothing to improve your cockiness."

"My cockiness?" Meadow exploded. All the years of hatred and fear welled up inside of him, and he couldn't hold it down, all reason and logic abandoning him."You're the one who tried to kill me! Just because I didn't look like you! I'm not cocky! You're just a jerk!" He pulled against his restraints furiously, ignoring the pain as they tightened even further, cutting between his scales.