Wings of Fire • Dragon of Warriors [3]

Chapter Twenty-five

The battle was well over by the time the sun was rising.

     After many nights of interrupted sleep, Quickclaws could barely blink without almost passing out. The recent attack, fight with Windwhipper, and the chase after him had tired Quickclaws out until even he knew he couldn't last much longer. Still, he was required to stay awake.

     Why?

     Because there was a council meeting in progress, and he was a part of it.

     "Tell us what happened, again," one of the elders said.

     Quickclaws suppressed a yawn, blinked rapidly to clear his head, then squared his shoulders as he responded: "I was fighting in the battle when I felt a pull on my head." As he spoke, his mind's eye brought him back to the moment. He could see the way the clouds parted to shine a spotlight in the traitor as he flew. "I looked to the left and saw a dragon flying across the peaks – I assumed it was Windwhipper. I broke away from the fight and flew after him.

    "I caught up to him in the cave. We fought and struggled until Brisktail arrived with reinforcements, which was when Windwhipper escaped. He ran into the dark part of the cave and slipped by us. We chased him to the ice tunnel where we saw Risingwind in his place, panicked and shocked. Windwhipper had cut his wings so he wouldn't be able to fly away and block our path. He escaped."

     As Quickclaws recounted his story, he couldn't help but feel as if he hadn't done enough in the end. He kept running over the fight in his mind, replaying it and trying to come out with different outcomes. They usually ended in either his death or Windwhipper getting away. That didn't stop Quickclaws from feeling inadequate, however.

     If I had been able to catch him... or subdued him earlier... this whole mess could be done with. We could contain him and make sure he doesn't hurt any more dragons again.

     He thought of all the things Windwhipper had done. He had roped the SeaWings and SkyWings into his conquest for power, the latter by stealing and killing one of their dragonets. A bad feeling settled in the pit of Quickclaws' stomach.

     Making amends won't be so easy either. So far all the Pyrrhians have seen of us is that we supposedly wanted to be left alone after the whole ordeal with the SeaWings and then attacked the SkyWings out of nowhere. They'd never heard of us before and as soon as we meet again, everything seems to be going wrong. What's to stop the other tribes from trying to attack us too?

     From across the table, he felt a pair of eyes soften at him, breaking him from his stream of thinking. Quickclaws lifted his gaze and saw Lightningtail staring at him with a small smile, trying to reassure him. Quickclaws fixed his expression into a mirroring smile, which was when he realized that his features had been drooping. He must look terrible.

     To look more presentable in front of the Council, he straightened his back and rearranged his wings. He found that the meeting had gone on without him:

     "And how did you manage to keep Risingwind from fighting you back?" another elder asked from her spot. The question seemed to be directed at him.

     "He was too scared too," Quickclaws answered. "He was trembling the whole time and pleading for me not to kill him." From his place beside him, Brisktail scoffed something under his breath.

    "And you?" the first elder asked, turning to Brisktail. "What is your side again?"

     Brisktail sighed and repeated his statement, which ended the same way Quickclaws' did. The elders seemed to be taking all of this information in as if it was the first time when in reality, it was their third time repeating it. Queen Swansong, who was sitting near the right side of the semicircle, looked tired while she waited until the older dragons finally understood.