Wings of Fire: A Destiny Found

~PROLOGUE~

       The mountains were alive with wind and rain, a torrential storm lighting the sky and tearing apart the storm clouds. A pale, dull blue dragon was navigating through this dangerous barrage of torrential rainfall, flying with some very delicate cargo – pottery and glasswork. As a merchant and a crafter, she had to keep this cargo intact, otherwise her customer would be rather displeased with her. While navigating the whipping windstorm, her thoughts drifted. She found heavy and chaotic weather ironically rather relaxing and nostalgic, her home being the frozen north after all. It had been around three years since she'd been doing this; making and selling merchandise as well as weapons for any dragons interested in what she had to offer. Her white cape was a symbol for her craftwork, signaling to dragons that she had valuable things to sell and trade. The IceWing was thinking about more than just her work; she was thinking about her life in the war. She was no longer directly involved with it and instead just lived on her own while providing service to patrons on her travels.

       However, she wasn't just thinking about her life in the war, she was thinking about one particular dragon. It had been years since her brother had joined the Talons of Peace – a group of dragons dedicated to ending the war and bringing peace to Pyrrhia. He hadn't even written her a letter, not for a few years, and she missed him dearly. She missed talking and mentoring her younger brother. I wonder how he's doing. I hope he's accomplishing everything he wanted to. For Frigga, this war has gone on long enough.

       She realized that she was getting distracted and veering dangerously off course, and steered herself back on track, her unstable cargo rattling and clinking against each other in the wind. Her mind once again shifted to the Talons and talk of the Dragonet Prophecy. Tomorrow is the brightest night, isn't it? That means that the dragonets will be born tomorrow and stop this war. But before she could speculate any longer, she heard voices from atop the mountain. She could make out the shapes of four dragons, one of them particularly large, and another looked like an IceWing. She was about to ignore it when she heard an all-too-familiar voice from the IceWing silhouette. "Leave it alone!" Hvitur! Recognition pierced her like a spear and shock surged through her veins.

       She hurriedly dove under a crag in the mountain, close enough to hear them clearly but not too close for them to see her. In the rain, her scales were camouflaged reasonably well. She heard the voices of her brother, a female dragon, and two male dragons she assumed were soldiers. A SandWing that large... female... in SkyWing territory... that must be Burn. Burn was one of the three SandWing Princesses fighting for the throne and ruling the warring Pyrrhia. Coming upon this realization, the IceWing's heart sank and her stomach began to churn. Her heart was pounding, panic and anxiety surging through her being as a metallic sense of dread began to take hold of her conscious mind. No no no no no no, brother you need to get out of there! You'll be killed if you stay, what are you waiting for?!? She heard Burn's voice, and her blood chilled. "No more 'wings of sky'... I guess I should be careful with this... oops!" This was followed by Hvitur's scream and desperate claws scraping stone. She heard the whoosh of something falling and quickly dove forward. She couldn't see clearly what was dropped, but it must have been worth Hvitur's life if he was willing to die for it.

       She reached for the object, flapping her wings frantically. It was so far from her grasp. Her wings were beginning to tire, the rain and winds beating down on her wings and body. She saw the ground and cliffs quickly approaching and a single lightning strike illuminated the object. It was an egg – a SkyWing egg, and it was about to shatter. One thing was clear to Frigga, and it was that she couldn't let a completely helpless and innocent egg die. She wouldn't allow it, and she'd never forgive herself if she did.

       She finally caught it, her rough claws slightly scraping the delicate shell. A sharp gust bashed her into the cliff side, causing one of her pots to fall to the ground and shatter. Once she was back on a stable cliff, she quickly looked at the egg for any signs of damage. She turned the egg around and over, checking it's changing and shifting fiery colours inside the shell. She concluded that the egg was a little scratched, but not cracked.