Lost and Dead - a Wings of Fire FanFiction [Book 1/5 of The Corrupt Continent]

Chapter 1

Frost had never liked his cousin. Amur was bossy and cocky and pushy. She often ordered Frost around, even though she was two years younger. King Alabaster liked her, Frost could tell. Much more than he liked the black-haired prince. He wasn't even sure if the king knew he existed.

And now she was becoming a princess - an actual one, not an in-law like before. She was Frost's father's sister's daughter, and his mother was the daughter of the king. So theoretically, he was directly in line for the throne, since he had no siblings and neither did his mother. But now that Amur was becoming a "legitimate" princess, she could get the throne.

It wasn't like Frost wanted the throne, but he knew that it would be better if he had it instead of Amur. She would probably throw the kingdom into war just because she thought she could win - even though AlpineWings were the second smallest tribe on the continent. And they would become poor, because she would trade away all their coins for pretty rocks.

Frost twirled the knife between his talons, staring at the ceiling. The chapp roof was warped and cracked from years of plain existing. A long scratch ran from one corner to the middle, where one of his knives had flown out of his claws a few years ago. It was very dim, due to the sun setting. Dim enough that he could only just read the note that he'd stuck to the wall.

It was a CanyonWing.

Frost turned away, gripping his knife tightly to avoid hurtling it at the note. He knew a CanyonWing had killed his parents - he didn't need to be told by a mystery dragon. It would be better if he just ripped it off the wall and shoved it under his bed.

Why won't you, then?

A growl echoed in his throat.

A knock sounded on his door. "Prince Frost?"

He sighed. "What?"

There was a shuffling sound as the servant heard his harsh tone. "Um, you are required to join Amur's Legitimating Ceremony. It will be in the courtyard in ten minutes."

Frost stayed silent.

". . . Prince Frost?"

"I heard you!" Frost snapped. "Now fuck off!"

The servant departed swiftly.

Frost rolled onto his back and sighed again. He might as well just get up and get ready. Better to be late than never turn up at all.

He sat up and stretched, cracking his wing joints. As he wandered over to his wardrobe, he threw his knife at the target on his wall. It stuck firmly on the bullseye and he yawned. Probably shouldn't have spent the whole night practising my knife-throwing skills in the Yull.

Stepping into the dusty space, Frost stared blankly at the fancy cloaks and drapes. "Now what?" he wondered out loud. He was never one for dressing nicely. Maybe I should have asked that servant to pick something out for me instead of yelling at him. Nah, he deserved it.

He rolled his eyes and placed a talon over his face. "I pick. . . you." He pointed randomly ahead and lifted his talon. It was a dark mossy green cloak with gold swirls and a yellow sunburst in the centre of the back.

Frost shrugged and pulled it out. A bit gaudy, but hey, I don't give a musk ox's ass about Amur or her opinion, so it's perfect. He threw it over his shoulders and did up the clasp. It was a little amber beetle rimmed in gold - just like the one on the necklace his mother used to wear.

Flashes came back to him. His mother's face, covered with blood, screaming while her eyes were dug out of her head, telling him to run, to fly away, to escape, to leave her to be tortured and killed by the CanyonWing rogue.