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

Chapter 3

Frost knocked on Mistral's door, the scroll with the instructions for them in his claws. There were a few seconds of silence before Mistral called out.

"Come in."

Slowly opening the door, Frost peeked in to see Mistral curled up on her bed, Spruce, her pet wolf, nuzzling her shoulder. She stared at the wall, softly patting Spruce's back.

"Are you okay?" Frost asked quietly.

Mistral sighed. "Maybe."

Frost walked over to her bed and climbed in next to her, placing his wing over her side. He hummed quietly, his head next to her's, hoping to relax her.

"What does it say?" Mistral murmured. "The scroll."

Frost tensed, unsure if it was the right time to tell Mistral.

"Frost," Mistral said. There was a note of warning in her voice.

Frost sighed. "Fine." He sat up, unrolling the scroll and cleared his throat.

"The two dragons of the names Frost and Mistral who are inhabitants of the AlpineWing Royal Palace are expected to produce a singular offspring by the time of the double full moon, which is approximately two years, six months, and three weeks away.

"They must then produce another offspring within the three years following the double full moon, and another with the same guidelines. The only exceptions to this rule are if there are pregnancy, laying, or follow-on problems. This will repeat until there are four surviving heirs."

Mistral stared at the wall. "Four?" she finally whispered.

"...Yeah." Frost sighed. "Look, I get why you're against all of this, and I just want to say, I'm okay with it. Like, this is better than getting killed-"

Mistral stood up and whirled around. "Do you really think this is about you being gay? No! I don't want to have children, Frost! I don't want to be pregnant, and I don't want to lay and-" she gulped, tears streaming down her face "-and I don't want to have sex."

Frost fidgeted at the last word.

After a few shaky breaths, Mistral thumped back down onto the bed and burrowed her head into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice muffled. "I just..."

"Yeah," Frost agreed. "I know."

He looked out of Mistral's window. The sun was just starting to set, far off in the west. To the south he saw the Yull, the plains of the tundra stretching out by the horizon. He knew that, just past there, no more than three days of flying, was the Moor Kingdom.

An idea hit him. Excitement fizzling in his veins, he shook Mistral.

"What?" she asked grumpily, gathering Spruce into her arms and petting his back.

Frost hopped out of bed and walked to the window. Turning to look back at Mistral, a look of 'uh oh' spread across her face as she saw Frost's expression.

"What if," he said, "we fake our own deaths."

—

"Frost, this is a terrible idea!"

Frost lashed his tail as he paced the small room. "Just listen, okay?"

Firn sighed. "Yeah, alright, just make it sound more like it's actually work."

The two married-to-be's had gone to Mistral's older brother, who was in charge of the palace scouts. They'd figured he'd be the best one to help them disappear. And he was also probably the only dragon they could trust.