●|Ink-filled Oasis|● Miscellaneous Writing

♢《Monster》♢

Fandom: Wings of Fire

(Part 1/2)

The sun beats down on the land with lavish rays, warming the vast regions of desert while the frozen arctic lay untouched. Mountains of all sizes cut this enormous continent with a jagged centerline, grouping the rainforest, swamps, and crystal sea to the east. A divide like so leaves the desert and tundra to share in the west, though their boundaries are cut by rocks and somewhat petrified forests. Territories are split to provide life for all kinds of species in order to stabilize peace and tranquility. If only it were that simple. Raging beasts of bulk and fire rule the land of Pyrrhia with powerful claws. Seven tribes have made their home in the variety of biomes Pyrrhia has to offer, though some are never satisfied. Some dragons have a thirst for blood and recognition. They want to prove that they can be a monster that protects the throne, even if they have to visit death's door more than once.

But what causes such urges of hostility? Is it instinct? Influence by others with a wicked history? The options for what triggers someone's violence to rise is limitless, but what happens when consequences pin them down is what crushes them in the end.

•~•~•~•

"This will never work!"

"Yes it will."

"No, it won't! How many times must you almost die to learn that your ambition will never happen?"

Eyes interlocked as they staggered along the rim of the arena, two dragons vigorously trained in what was seen by others as a bloody tombstone. One of the beasts was a fit dragoness, her ruby-red scales reflecting bits of sunlight that hit her body. She eyed her opponent intently, an obvious look of worry sculpted on her narrow face. Her tail would sweep the sandy floor as she walked endlessly around the closed off dome, kicking up small amounts of dust as she tried to put as much distance between her and the other dragon caged within.

The other soul with her was a small dragon with scales as the color of coal, the dark gray scheme clashing with his almost pale-red underbelly. The spikes running along his spine, much like the ones on the dragoness, were pitch black and there were visible light gray spots running down his back on each side of the spikes. His breathing was heavy, multiple wounds gushing scarlet. The blood trickled down his arms and coated the floor with a few drops of red each step the dragon took. The fierce gleam in his eyes stood out from the rest of his beaten body, shining brighter than the color on the dragoness' scales.

He lowered his head and curled his lip, eyeing his enemy in order to find their weak point. "Fight me, coward!" the dragon would roar. His patience grew thin as the dragoness kept her distance away from him. The number of wounds on their body greatly differed, yet the dragoness fled as if she were wounded and running from a fleet of dragons who could kill without a sound and disappear into the night. "Fight me!" he said again, charging at the red-scaled dragoness with a sudden burst of speed. The dragoness froze, claws leaving imprints in the sand as she curled them inward. Her eyes narrowed, most of the worry etched on her face vanishing with replaced anger. When the dragon lunged at her, she rolled to the side and swung her body around, using the force to strike the gray dragon with an outstretched paw. Her claws would rake the side of his neck and send him crashing into the floor awkwardly, rolling lengths away until he managed to stop himself.

"Is that what you wanted?" the dragoness spat, her larger size casting a tall shadow over the smaller male. "I'm trying to save you from your own pride! Why won't you let this fantasy go?" She watched as the male struggled to stand up, a pang of remorse stabbing her heart while staring at the large gash across the right side of his neck. Her stance stiffened as the disgruntled dragon faced her, face still. "This is to keep the Skywings alive," he said vaguely, wings beginning to quiver as more blood caked the ground below.