Dragons of Skylark: The Four Heirs

The World Changes

     Ronan twitched in his sleep, murmuring in an unintelligible whisper. I pushed my head deeper into the material of my nest. My claws contracted around the thick fabric blanket Mum had made me. Like another pair of wings, I folded it over my face and knew silence once more, but not for much longer.

An indescribable sound ripped through the tunnels. I reeled, the feeling hit me like a riptide, like a pair of empty lungs and molasses gills as the surface gets farther and farther away. The cry broke like a tree being ripped in half, a horrible, wailing, sound that I felt in the deepest part of myself. I'd never heard a dragon scream in pain before.

"What was that?" May shivered, now that we were wide awake.

Mum's wings quivered. "Stay here."

She shot from the den without a sound. I pressed into Seth's chest, the only source of comfort was them, I could smell and feel my siblings nearby.

"Where's Pop?" I forced out.

His source of warmth was gone. The scent on his bedding was slightly old.

"He's always gone in the morning." Seth soothed, stretching a wing over me. 

Another scream echoed through the tunnels and I winced. It came from an adult dragoness. The cry was so wretched and detached from being I couldn't recognize the voice. It was like a heart left its body and grew a mouth.

The wails were replaced by quieter, heaving sobs. Crying. I'd heard crying before. I cried when I was hatched, but why was this so different?

Ronan whimpered from underneath Seth's wing. "She's too sad. No one should ever be this sad. How can her body take it?"

"Her?"

"Master Strife."

"How do you know it's her?" May whispered.

"I don't know," Ronan croaked, "Don't ask me."

"Stay in your dens!" Mum's voice trumpeted above the sobs. "Watch over your chicks, don't leave your dens!"

What happened? Why was my body shaking? Why did I feel so cold inside?

"Longtayle," Seth swallowed dryly, "how does that story end?"

My head was so clouded, her question slipped in and floated around my skull before something caught onto it. "What story?"

"With the bat, who lived in the moon."

My tongue was so heavy, I keeled and curled my claws into my forehead. Anything to hide from the tightness enveloping me.

Seth pride my paws away from me. "Longtayle, hey, listen to my voice."

His voice was warm and smelled of lavender. It danced around me, protecting my body, like an eggshell.

"How does the story end?"

Smoke dripped out of my mouth. "She couldn't come home. She never did, but the moon taught her how to fly, and when she opened her eyes again, her body glistened and glowed with the light of stars. She started to sing, and down where the air touched the earth her people heard her, flying with the moon. Her song brought forth the insects and her family celebrated; their daughter would feed their whole colony. That's why the bats sing as they hunt." 

There were no more whimpers, no more wails. Mum rushed back into the den, exhaling loudly as she spotted us. The scent she brought with her was different, new, and it sent the scales on my spine in all directions. It was like mushrooms, the poisonous ones threaded in damp cracks. I flinched away from her.