𝘼 𝘽𝘼𝙇𝙇𝘼𝘿 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘿𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂, wings of fire

Chapter Three

"YOU WILL NEVER be stronger than me!"

     Aether's entire body was engulfed in shadow. It couldn't see anything, feel anything. It was numb, enveloped in darkness, unable to force movement to its limbs.

     It hung there for a long time, unmoving, powerless, the shadows swallowing up its figure until it was close to suffocating from the gloom.

     And then . . . it was falling.

     The hybrid could not summon any strength into its wings as it sank through the air, falling straight down. Around it, flashes of light yielded faces it had never seen before, shadows of dragons it had no connection to.

     The largest beam of light is ultimately what caught Aether's attention, and the falling seemed to slow down so that it could get a good look at the images within.

     There it was, a glowing pillar of light revealing a familiar face — it was like looking into a mirror. The hybrid stood on a towering cliff, wings spread wide, staring down at a land filled with rock and shadow. A wasteland.

     Aether peered closer, seeing itself in such a position of power was daunting, and a beautiful silver crown adorned its head, held in place by a woven wreath of thorns. Something was definitely off, not just with the situation, but . . .

     It jerked back suddenly. Wait . . . those eyes . . . why were they—

     The pillar shuddered, and the shadows seemed to close in on it again, tugging at the arms, ceiling around the throat. It saw the image crack at the corners, and made a desperate jerk toward it.

     "I will have this world! It's mine by blood!" That voice . . . that unfamiliar voice was back, ringing in its ears.

     "It never was yours!" Now that one, it recognized. A glorious LeafWing flew up behind the figure of the crowned hybrid. Appleseed, if it remembered her name right. Behind her, blotches images of other dragons were keeping close, aiming for it. But a flash yielded a change, and the image splintered completely, shattering and letting the shards fly.

     "No!" It yelled, pushing forward to grab at the image. "No, what's going on?"

     The darkness returned, only for a moment, and then, Aether was standing alone, surrounded by stone, blood coating its own talons.

     "Aether?"

     That voice . . . three moons, it knew that voice.

     Turning around, the hybrid saw another hybrid approaching it, one that was a rustic copper-orange, one with the same markings as it.

     "Spice?" It croaked, watching them approach. "Oh, moons, Spice. What's happening? Why do I . . . there's so much blood."

     Their expression shifted. "You killed him."

     "What?"

     "You killed Fire Opal." They told it, walking forward. "And Candy Crab. And Peacock. And Mirage." They narrowed their eyes, shoving their nose up against Aether's. "You tore down every single dragon who tried to stop you." Then, they pulled back, staring at it with a mixture of hatred and challenge. "I was the last dragon left who believed you could be saved."

     It stepped back as well, staring at their twin with bile rising in its throat as it watched them brace themselves.

     "I won't make that mistake again." Spice then lunged, jaws snapping for Aether's throat.