Wings of Fire: A Twisted Future - Broken Visions

Chapter 12

The air got cold and rainy as the school reached Jade Mountain. A jagged line on the purple-gold horizon, sliced in the middle like a huge dragon who'd decided not to destroy the mountain after already cutting the peak. 

Quietkeep was murmuring as he swayed on Permafrost's back, flexing his wings. The boulders had sprained a few muscles, he couldn't fly, even when the IceWing kind enough to carry him insisted. Permafrost intentionally thwacked his legs with her tail, in return for the pain and aches he induced on her entire body. 

Clouds rolled in from the North, the Sky Kingdom, Kingdom of Sand and the Ice Kingdom already drenched in rain or heavy wind or blizzards, sending the unfriendly darkness over the southern half of the continent. Shiver predicted that the clouds were moving so fast that they patrol would get caught at the beginning of the storm when flying over the peaks near Jade Mountain. 

Hours later, when the dragons were hovering over the peak North of the academy, the clouds engulfed the navy blanket of sky and sent the most pelting rain down onto the dragons. As if flying for an entire day, two days ago, working for most of the previous day and a disturbed night weren't bad enough, they needed rain! Of course! Quietkeep felt his heartbeat waver as the entrance to the academy yawned in front of them, and most dragonets automatically sped up to get to the shelter of the mountain with the sweet, sweet embrace of a sweet, sweet apology for exhausting the students for the past three days, and sink into their nests, fall into a cosy, warm, long slumber that no teacher would dare muster the disrespect to wake them from for the next week.

Permafrost let out a sort of moan-roar as she slithered onto the large outcrop of the entrance to the academy, her legs giving way under her. Quietkeep honestly wished he could help, but everyone felt too tired to help, even if Raven was here. Everyone. However, it was the school's responsibility to ensure every dragonet's under their care safety, so Pondweed stalked over to the IceWing and help haul her toward the sleeping caves.

Everyone let out a cry of delight and pain as they entered, the warmth from the lamps and the golden hue spreading around the entrance hall enveloping them in their huge wings. 

Finally! was the word that presented itself in everyone's thoughts, no matter how or where it was THERE.

I hope Swelter is OK...

That coward, sneaking off with Heron on the first patrol, ooooh I'm getting my claws on Shadowseather's throat after my well-deserved sleep!

Are the papayas still fresh?

I swear to the moons if we don't get a long sleep after this I'm beginning a movement, a rebellion, a cause against this school, it's only been four days and I'm devastated!

And, frankly, Quietkeep agreed with most of those thoughts. He worried for his Winglet, he was going to tear out the throats of Urchin and Avalanche in their endless, warm slumber, he was hoping that the coconut stash hadn't gone bad, and he would be joining that movement the moment it was made. 

After shooting glares at Eel in the corner, who still tried her best to wave at them enthusiastically despite the bruise under her eye and the scratches along her tail and wings, the NightWing dragonet slithered back to the sleeping tunnels, unaware of the concerned he received due to the little present he brought with himself to remember the terrific day, which he for some reason had decided to safely preserve in his limping hind leg. Genius. Quietkeep wasn't sure if it was the pain or the exhaustion of the fact that he had a branch in his body, but he wasn't in the mood for sharing smiles or even shy head-ducks with other dragonets at the moment. From what he could gather, absolutely everyone around him had the exact same thoughts, just their own scenarios implanted into the reason. 

Oh, my leg hurts.

Oh, my throat stings.

Oh, I can't find my ba- oh, there it is. OH, THIS SEAWING LEFT ALL HIS UNDERWATER SLIME OVER IT.

Oh, I had to carry a RainWing's hammock.

Oh, I chipped my claw.

Oh, I'm blind from birth.

Oh, MY LEG IS IMPALED.

He had the best reasons to be grumpy at this moment. He'd only allow Permafrost any excuses, for she carried Quietkeep for the entire journey, no rests or no changes with others, not that anyone would accept to have a bleeding NightWing on their backs. That built the pile of respect Quietkeep had begun for the IceWing.  

Finally, the NightWing reached his cave, he stepped away from the mob of dragonets that had shrunk as they made their way down to the sleeping caves, and pushed the wooden door open. A rush of relief swept over Quietkeep to see his nest, just the sight of it a lump of hope and rest and joy for his little NightWing heart. Then he noticed Avalanche and Urchin snoring in their nests on the left side of the room; the relief plummeted, but he forced it back up. Now now, two brain-dead dragonets wouldn't ruin his sleep. That wasn't the plan, he wouldn't let it happen.

Entering the cave and slotting the door back, Quietkeep slithered over to his nest, eyeing his clawmates, but really keeping a close eye on the huge bird's nest he'd nestle in in just a moment... 

Grasshoppers. No no no no no, not today, not now, not in the absolutely worst time possible. 

Quietkeep rushed to his nest and leaned over, his talons clutching the rim of the hollow, and there were at least five singed grasshopper snacks in his nest. He didn't even want to imagine how many there were in his nest. The only way to get rid of them was to... hmm--

EAT the grasshoppers.

Quietkeep felt his stomach sinking as he hopped onto the side of his nest, perched there and arched over the hollow, feeling a peculiar surge of relief to have there be blankets on top of his nest. That meant, judging by his clawmates' IQ, there were only these grasshoppers on his blankets, not rotten deep between the woven, twisted branches and twigs. There was hope for surviving this night.

The dragonet lowered his head and pinched one of the tiny brown specks, pulling it up by his tongue and feeling it shatter between his teeth. Well, the taste wasn't spectacular, not revolting, tasted like the cheap stuff an academy would bother getting for dragonets, actually: cooked grasshoppers. This was perfect. The aftertaste wasn't revolting either, tasted kind of like a burnt turkey but with too much salt and spice, so Quietkeep survived the other four grasshoppers. And finally...

The light of his lifetime.

Quietkeep quickly shot a glance at the window, a tiny smile curling on his snout to see it had only been minutes since he entered the academy, the storm covering the three moons, but the huge white orbs visible as silver glows on the horizon. Only twilight. He still had an entire night ahead, and if anyone tried to wake him he'd kick them in the face and tear their claws off. Disturbing a peacefully sleeping dragonet who'd survived three catastrophes so far in the span of three days was a sin.

After only a few seconds of circling the nest to find the warmest and most comfortable position, Quietkeep settled down, partially tucking his limbs under him, adjusting the pillow to reach his cheek and ear, pulled the fluffiest, largest, warmest blanket he had up to his neck and closed his eyes.

''Quietkeep?''

His eyes shot open, his snout scrunched up, and he knew he'd never felt so much fury in his life.