Terror of Talons ✦ A Wings of Fire Fanfiction

Chapter Seven

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The night was anything but restful for Shrike. The grand guest bedroom of the New Island Palace was a luxurious haven, with its plush seafoam-green drapes and silk bedding, but none of it could soothe his troubled mind. He tossed and turned, his thoughts a tangled mess of political tensions and possible war and the confusing encounter with Chimaera.

Beside him, Condor lay with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling, while Ptarmigan's slow, steady breaths signaled that he was drifting off to sleep. Cathartes slept quietly on the smaller bed, curled into a lazy ball. The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of bioluminescent shells embedded in the walls, casting a soft, ethereal light.

Finally, unable to stand the turmoil in his mind any longer, Shrike heaved himself out of the bed, padding over to the small, intricately carved marble desk in the corner of the room.

He carefully lit a candle with a small burst of flame from his mouth. The warm light flickered, creating shadows that danced on the walls. He reached for a piece of parchment and a quill, deciding to write a letter to Kaolin. It wasn't meant to be sent, but rather a way to pour out his swirling thoughts.

My Dearest Kaolin,

Being here, in the SeaWing kingdom, has been both awe-inspiring and deeply troubling. Queen Lamprey is uncompromising and the violent tendencies that she is known for have only made things worse, and the looming threat of war weighs heavily on my mind. The tension between the RainWings and MudWings feels like a powder keg ready to explode, and I fear for what this means for Pyrrhia.

And then there's Chimaera. He's a lieutenant in the SeaWing army that Condor and I had the pleasure of running into. Meeting him was...

Shrike paused. What do I even say? Confusing? Lovely? Bad because now I have this churning feeling in my stomach and I can't focus on the diplomacy meeting? He shook his head, adjusting his spectacles before dipping the quill back into the inkwell and putting it back to the scroll.

...unexpected. He's confident, almost brash, and eager for conflict in a way that I find both unsettling and strangely captivating. Why does he want war? What drives a dragon to seek out something so destructive? I can't get him out of my head, and it's driving me mad...

Shrike paused, the quill hovering over the parchment. The quiet rustle of Condor shifting in the bed broke the silence.

"Why are you up, Shrike?" Condor asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Shrike glanced over, meeting his friend's concerned gaze. "I couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind," he replied, gesturing to the half-written letter. "I thought maybe writing it down would help."

Condor sat up, the sheets rustling around him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Shrike hesitated, then nodded. "There's so much to unpack. The council meeting, Queen Lamprey, the possibility of war... and Chimaera. I can't stop thinking about him."

Condor raised a brow. "Chimaera? The lieutenant you bumped into earlier?"

"Yes," Shrike admitted, glancing away. "He's so... different. His enthusiasm for war is terrifying, but there's something about him that's... I don't know. Intriguing."

Condor nodded thoughtfully. "He does seem like quite the character. But we can't let personal feelings cloud our judgment. We need to stay focused on our mission here."

"You're one to be talking about staying focused. I saw you go into that bar earlier, flirting with every other SeaWing you saw," Shrike said playfully, rolling his eyes. "But I know," he sighed. "It's hard. Everything is so complicated. And the more I think about it, the more I feel like we're walking on a knife's edge. One wrong move, and everything could fall apart."