Conquest : A Wings of Fire Fanfiction

15. Traps

Stupid, Sandstorm told herself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She kept her eyes fixed on the sky outside, her talons clenched. Every so often, her gaze would fall upon the tightly closed wooden chest, and she would inwardly scream in anger.

Why had they assumed that the chest would hold the Firestone? Because they were dumb. And because they overestimated their enemies. 

Sandstorm had always thought the most dangerous thing an army commander - or anyone, really - could do was underestimate their enemies. Now she knew the opposite was almost as dangerous.

Where else could it be?

The Aureate Hollow, of course. They had to go back and search the smoke-filled cave. 

She looked sideways at her sleeping friends, and then back at the starry sky.

She'd voluntarily accepted first watch because she couldn't sleep. They were in the same cave, too tired and disappointed to change anything or find a better hiding place.

Ivory had so rightly said, 'If the Mutineers come after us, let them. Let them come. We'll be more than ready.'

Most of the Emerald Winglet were scowling and grumbling in their sleep. Moon was curled up in one corner, her talons clenching and unclenching. Ivory was in a tight ball, frowning heavily, her serrated talons twitching.

Mysticdream was the only one peacefully sleeping, her expression calm and tranquil. Sandstorm wished she could somehow get some of the cheerful, optimistic dragonet's positiveness. Then life would look so great.

She sighed and turned back to watching the sky. The moon was slowly climbing up the vast expanse of inky darkness, and its silver rays lit up the cave entrance, where Sandstorm was perched.

'You look like an IceWing,' came a familiar voice. Sandstorm turned to see Maelstrom approaching her. He sat beside her and blinked up at the stars.

'What makes you say that?' asked Sandstorm coldly, rather annoyed by the fact that he thought she looked like Ivory.

'Well, you're glaring at the sky like you want to blow it up, you're glowing a weird white-silver colour because you're sitting right under the moon, your voice is all icy and has a back-off-don't-touch-me vibe - do you really want more reasons?'

Sandstorm laughed despite herself and looked down at her pale-golden scales. They had indeed turned silver in the moonlight. 

The pair of them sat at the entrance of the cave peacefully. It was quiet save for Falcon's rasping snores and Sunbeam's heavy breathing. 

'Maelstrom?' she asked, after some time. 

'Hmm?' 

'Why are we doing this?' 

He paused. 'What do you mean?' 

Sandstorm struggled to find the right words. 'Why do we have to save the world? Why couldn't we just tell the Dragonets of Destiny? They would easily find the right way to solve this.' She stared at her own talons. 

'I don't even know what we're supposed to be doing.' 

He was quiet for a long time. 

'Sandstorm, if a dragon was trapped in a fire, and you had several buckets of water, would you use that water or wait for another dragon to come by and help?' 'I would use the water, obviously, but I don't get your point.' 

'My point is, Storm, we can't wait for other dragons - we can't push away our responsibility. By the time the Dragonets of Destiny do anything, the world might already be in the Mutineers' control. We're the only ones who can stop them in time.'