Scarab the Fierce

Chapter Twelve

TW: Mentions of death and injury

Scarab awoke slowly and took a deep breath of air before choking on  smoke.

She sat up, her scales scraping on the rough stone she was lying on. She looked around at her surroundings through watery eyes. Everything was dark. The air was filled with smoke.

Then it came back to her.

The NightWing island.

The rescue mission.

Oh no.

She remembered going through the tunnel from the rainforest. She remembered the RainWings shooting darts at the guards. She remembered Arid and Qibli right behind her.

What happened?

Scarab's mind suddenly went static as a pain shot through her head like the worst of headaches. She collapsed onto the ground again and curled in a ball. She felt her head delicately, registering the dried blood on her temple through the haze of pain.

She quickly checked herself over. What other injuries couldn't she remember? Her tail was cut and her shoulder was bruised. She had a few tears in her frill and a burn on her arm.

What in Phyrria happened?

Scarab struggled to stand up and wobbled forward. Where was everyone? How am I not dead?

Scarab realized that she wasn't in an open slope. She was in a large dip in the rock that kept her hidden from most vantage points. I must have fallen while flying. That would make sense of the bruises.

Scarab tried walking forward and winced. She limped along as quietly as she could, holding her burned arm close to her body. She poked her head out of the hiding place and looked around. There was no one there. She sniffed the air and gagged on the smoke. She looked up and saw No dragons flying in the sky. There was no noise beyond a smoky breeze and a low grumbling coming from the earth.

The volcano.

Scarab struggled to pull herself out from the ledge and steadied herself with heavy wings. She flexed them carefully and reflected on how terribly sore they were. How much was I flying?

Or how desperately?

Scarab wandered the NightWing island for about thirty minutes before she found anything. She had walked in the vague direction she seemed to remember they came from after leaving the tunnel. Suddenly something crunched beneath her talon, making her jump.

She looked down amd almost screamed.

Beneath her talon was the charred face of a dragon. Black and flaking. She hadn't seen it among all the other burnt remains on the island. After recovering herself she tried to inspect the dragon further. It had died fighting. There were visible wounds on its body, which was contorted in a savage shape of death. Its mouth was open in a scream and it's tail and talons curled defensively around a spear. Scarab couldn't see the colour of its scales beyond the charred black of burning and the occasional patch of white, but it-

Wait.

No.

Scarab shivered and actually looked at the dragon. She should've recognised it immediately.

The body size was wrong. The wing shape too narrow. The tail too long. The snout was more beak-like than what she'd seen in NightWing anatomy books.

This dragon had long fangs in its jaws. This dragon had a ragged pouch around its neck. This dragon had a burnt and torn frill along its jaw.