Turning Spring - A Qinter Fanfic

Chapter 1 - Infiltration Expedition

When you're tired, groggy, and hot, almost anything looks beautiful. Especially under the milky gaze of three full moons. Winter had never considered the Sandwing stronghold terribly sleek or sophisticated before, but tonight, its sandstone pillars glittered as beautiful as any silvery Icewing diamonds.

His flight to the Kingdom of Sand had been particularly dreary - dark clouds hung unwelcome in the sky, shielding. Nothing like the Ice Kingdom, whose sun refracted the snow into a million shiny, eye-melting rainbow specks.

Winter couldn't help but see this as a good omen.

To Winter, he deserved a streak of good fortune. Certainly, it was a long time coming. Besides, the last thing he needed was to sabotage an Icewing victory. He couldn't even imagine disappointing Hailstorm and his parents...oh wait, he could.

Winter has rehearsed the scenario in his head multiple times. Don't think about it, don't think about it -

His corpse returned to the Ice Kingdom.

A bed-ridden Hailstorm observes from his cot with a look of steeled resignation. To make matters worse, Winters blue tongue would loll awkwardly. Even in death, he managed to humiliate himself.

"I should've known," Hailstorm would say. Frost sparks would burst from his nostrils, the only indication of deeper anger. "something went terribly wrong with my brother. Throw him into the sea. Only Icewings earn proper snow burials."

"I always knew it!" his sister, Icicle, would chide unhelpfully. "He's not a true Icewing. Just like when he ABANDONED his post at the Battle of Possibility..."

No!

Winter shivered, feeling the sore, taut muscles in his body painfully contract. So much sand was stuffed in between his scales, moreover he was just so, so exhausted. How was any self-respecting dragon OKAY with sleeping on desert rock?

Focus. Stay focus. This was the least Winter could do.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen? Sandwings were so horrifically underprepared whereas Winter was deft and skilled with his claws. He'd silently picked the lock to his own palace chambers many times! The Kingdom of Sand palace couldn't be THAT much more technologically advanced.

With renewed confidence, Winter soared. Happy to know that he was of value to Hailstorm, even if not valued as a successor to him. Mainly, he was happy to be finished with his mission. Then, when he returned home, he'd be revered as a hero and lockpicking prodigy. Maybe he could find somewhere to sprawl out and nap in peace.

Really, the only thing that could go wrong was if the Jaws of Thorn magically appeared in all his mutilated glory and decapitated Winter. But really, what were the odds of that?

With renewed confidence, Winter soared. Happy to know that he was of value to Hailstorm, even if not valued as a successor to him. Mainly, he was happy to be finished with his mission. Then, when he returned home, he'd be revered as a hero and lockpicking prodigy. Maybe he could find somewhere to sprawl out and nap in peace.

Really, the only thing that could go wrong was if the Jaws of Thorn magically appeared in all his mutilated glory and decapitated Winter. But really, what were the odds of that?

Maybe it was Winters notorious rotten luck, maybe he jinxed it. Or perhaps he was too delirious with sleep deprivation to decipher reality from dream. Regardless, some unknowable forces gambled on his survival...

...and they lost.

Originally, his expedition went well! He was sneaky, precise, confident.

Until he actually entered the pavilion.

Squeezing through an open window, Winter tripped and stumbled inwards. He thrashed and kicked loose sharp rocks in the walls and thorny succulents until he slammed against a back wall. Where, a large sprawling (and apparently very fragile) tattered tapestry of Queen Thorn ribboned off its drapery rod, and onto Winter.

"Okay, Kingdom of Sand, I get it, you hate me. Well, guess what? The feelings mutual." Winter hissed, frantically pulling at the fabric. His heart raced. Blood rushed loudly into his ears like the tides that flowed around the Kingdom of the Sea.

After another moment of struggling, Winter was free. He squinted loathingly at the smug Sand Queen who'd nearly captured him. Her proportions were all off, the color was aged and dirty, even her eyes appeared ratty and juvenile. "Three moons!" he mumbled, feeling the coarse woven camel hairs, "This is just insulting! Is this supposed to be Queen Thorn?"

Winters gaze swung around the thin corridor. A few paces down, another large tapestry hung, just as gawdy and undignified as the first. Tawny and scarred, a flamboyantly posed Sandwing sat on his haunches offering a silver pendant to the sun. Streaks of red and yellow enveloped the background. Despite the obvious imperfections, Winter couldn't help but admire the small details the creator included. Like the small flecks of brown that speckled his cheek, or the rugged muscle that rippled in his legs.

It was obvious that this Sand dragon was well-loved...

...and well respected.

Envy clawed at Winters heart.

"Admiring my devastatingly handsome face? Don't worry; I do that, too. Kinkajou really captured my heartbreak beauty."

Winter leaped, wings flaring out against his sides.

Howling storms! Winters heart raced, sizing up his attacker It's the Jaws of Thorn!

Winter's corpse.

Hailstorm watching from his cot...

The Jaws of Thorn had arrived. He grinned at Winter with slight jeer in his tone.

"Can you believe she actually wove this from dried tumbleweeds?"