Wings of Fire: The Prequels

3.1

In one of her classes, one about creating a believable prophecy, the teacher, Morrowseer, had enough. "For example, I foresee that someone in this room will soon be punished for their inaction," said Morrowseer, glaring specifically at Obelisk who was still too out of it to notice. He was by her side in a few sure strides, grabbing her wrist in his near crushing grip to finally jerk her out of her daze. "Obelisk, what did I just say?"

"I-I--" Obelisk stuttered, startled at the sudden and harsh address.

A claw suddenly dug into Obelisk's wrist, making her yelp at the pain. Morrowseer removed his talon, revealing a long and slightly deep cut that made the others gasp. "Get your head out of the clouds. Pay more attention, you aren't allowed to waste time," said Morrowseer, briefly growling before moving away with a scoff.

"Go to the infirmary, don't delay."

Obelisk didn't speak, simply giving a frantic nod before she was limping out of the small room that acted as their classroom. Panic seized her chest, speeding up both her breath and her pace as more blood spilled from the wound. Weaving through the torch-lined halls with her twisting vision, Obelisk almost rushed past the infirmary in her mad sprint.

The scrambling of claws brought the head of the dragon in the room up. A frown flit across her face along with several mysterious emotions but the adult didn't hesitate to wave the panicking dragonet in. Obelisk sat on a rock ledge, watching the other dragon as her lungs continued to constrict themselves. Most of her was a dark grey, dark green covering her underbelly and part of her snout. Dark blue eyes watched her patient carefully as bandages were gathered.

Obelisk was nowhere near as colorful as the healer, most of her body was black (a few purple scales peeking through every once in a while) and her underbelly was an unassuming dark grey. Black obsidian eyes took in her surroundings, avoiding glancing at the blood for as long as possible. Silver sparkling scales hid under weakly shaking wings, glinting in the torchlight every once in a while.

"How did this happen?" asked the healer quietly, her work starting with wiping the wound briefly with a wet cloth. Her voice broke Obelisk out of the moment of observation, cowing Obelisk without meaning to. Morrowseer's words and wound still ran fresh, still made Obelisk want to hide away from the responsibility she should be taking.

It happened because I wasn't paying attention. It happened because I was taking too much leisure. It happened because I didn't spend my time well.

Obelisk didn't say anything, only shaking her head to indicate that she didn't want to talk about it. The healer sighed but didn't push it, wrapping up the wound with Obelisk paying close attention. "You should be fine. Take it a little easy and don't try to lift too much," said the healer, tying off the bandage without anything else to add.

Simply nodding, Obelisk hurriedly exited the room. The other seemed to want to say something but the dragonet was already gone. Rather than return to the class, she searched for an exit to the outside world.

She ignored anyone she passed by, more intent on taking to the air than taking their criticism. The fresh air was welcomed, wind sweeping under Obelisk's wings to fling her into the skies. Circling over the forests of her home that edged the mountain, Obelisk took a couple of moments before aiming for a familiar rock ledge.

Landing with a slight stumble, Obelisk looked towards the continent like she always did. Like she always did when listening to one of her mother's stories. When she would place herself into the protagonist's talons. Just before her mother would wrap her wing around her and their tails would twine. Just before Obelisk would press her nose into her side.

I can't play around anymore. I can't delay anymore. I have to start doing my part. The fairytales and stories aren't helping me. They're only hurting me.