Wings of Fire: A Twisted Future - Broken Visions

CHAPTER 18

The NightWing was in the hospital wing; again. Lying wounded, his muscles aching, scales prickling with pain; again. It was annoying to be here again when he could be learning, reading, sleeping, even! Nope, he was here lying aimlessly, staring at the ceiling for hours as his scales cooled down from the firescales cuts and his tail and foot warmed up from the frostbreath. Two very contradicting wounds he had to heal from. 

Permafrost was also here, in the bed to his left. The only cuts she had to heal from were the ones from Peregrine; however, such heat on her naturally cold scales was probably even more harmful than for most dragons. She was doing exactly what he was, staring up at the ceiling. Sometimes she would shudder, turn in her bed,  growl and clutch her face with a snarl. She didn't look at Quietkeep, never.

Dragons didn't trust her, even after her sacrifice to save Mango from Peregrine's claws. The SkyWing had also gotten a strike and was in the bed opposite Quietkeep's, recovering from the scratches Permafrost's spines had given her. Nobody looked at one another. Nobody spoke. Everyone stared at the ceiling for most of the days and nights they spent here.

Days passed, two full weeks until they were all completely recovered, their scales still scarred but healed over to keep out any infections. The three had stayed away from each other, going back to their tribe packs; Permafrost easily intimidated Blizzard into giving the leadership of the back to her, Peregrine didn't even have to raise a claw for Hawk to bow down a few centimeters away from her feet.

Which left Quietkeep alone again. Though it was a little comforting to know that he wouldn't be bothered by any weird prophecies and visions anymore, leaving  Permafrost with the dismay instead. It was cold-hearted but the right thing to do. She did owe him one, after all, for Quietkeep saved her from Peregrine. 

Now he was heading toward the entrance hall of the academy, knowing that the sunset from either peak of Jade Mountain would be absolutely gorgeous. It's not like he had anything better to do. He'd finish Flounder's history homework at night. The NightWing passed  Heron on the way out, who was trotting back to the teacher's sleeping caves with pouches full of letters and scrolls attached to his belt. The MudWing didn't seem to notice the dragonet hiding in the shadows. After a few minutes of making sure he was completely gone for sure, Quietkeep turned around and fluttered up to the top of the hall, staring up at the paintings of dragons and dancing and music and festivals. 

They looked so happy in those painting, a NightWing, SandWing, IceWing, RainWing and a SeaWing embracing glory thrown at them. That was Moonwatcher, holding Moonwatcher's Scroll in that painting with her friends staring at it in awe; the dragonets who saved Pyrrhia from destruction,  the dragonets who together wrote something that was similar to what Moonwatcher described as the Book of Clearsight from far away. Or... what she also described as 'the reality that those dragons believed was inside the Book, anyway.' In simpler words, that scroll held the futures of Pyrrhia for the next century, which did help. However, the present was a quite a few years past that century: whatever that scroll had, it would not help Quietkeep. Not that his futures were written in it, he was just about the least special dragon... except his powers. 

And that still boggled his mind; why was he hatched and raised somewhere else than other dragonets? Why did other NightWings have crazy thoughts like 'looks like him'? Who's him? Quietkeep had only been in the village once only to be assaulted for looking like 'him'. He and Quickflight never went back there again, instead building their own hut in the outskirts of the rainforest. He was raised with a different education than others but... he was still smarter than most in the school.

With a sigh, Quietkeep dove under the entrance to the cave and up into the sky, his scales instantly hit with cold, strong air. It was refreshing, letting him relive memories of flying with his mother alone, having no cares in the world but their future together. Not even the fact that her son had powers bothered Quickflight.