Shattered Souls

Some Backstory

"YOU!"

Birch tapped her chin. "Hmm...no I don't remember a particularly angry SilkWing."

Skye looked from Birch to Ermine, trying to figure out the connection between them.

Ermine growled, a deep, threatening growl, and suddenly Birch was pinned against the wall. Calico reached to help, but Ringlet pulled her back.

"Ermie is very smart," she said matter-of-factly. "He knows what he doing."

Skye could see Calico disagreed, but she sat down anyway.

"Ahem, SilkWing guy, why are you holding me against a wall with a knife to my throat?"

Skye only just noticed the knife in Ermine's talons. His first thought was that it was one of Bullet's knives, but if he looked closer, he could see the name 'Ermine' engraved into the handle.

Birch continued to talk. "I mean, I'm completely certain I've never met you in my life."

"Really," Ermine said. "Perhaps you remember two other SilkWings? One blue-yellow one green-red?"

Birch tapped her chin again. "Maybe..."

Ermine turned around. "Get Ringlet out of the room."

Calico scooped Ringlet into her arms, carrying her out to the door.

"Why are we going?" Ringlet said.

"Lady Yellowjacket said she wants some extra special food, made only by the extra special Ringlet!" Calico's voice was faint through the walls, but Ringlet's cheer could have been heard all across the Hive.

"I'm guessing the tiny SilkWing was your sister?" Birch said.

"Yes," Ermine pressed the knife harder onto her scales, drawing a little blood.

"I still don't get why you hate me so much."

"You killed my parents. Don't you remember a small dragonet, with my scales, sitting in the corner holding a small egg."

"Ohhh..." Birch trailed off. "Yeah I remember that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

7 years ago...

It was Ermine's first hatching day. He knew his parents were planning a party, but he pretended not to know. He just sat by his little sister's egg. It had just been laid, and was due to hatch in a year.

He nestled the egg further into it's barricade of blankets that he kept in his room. Instead of taking the egg to the Hive's hatchery, Ermine had begged his parents to keep it here.

He crept into the kitchen for breakfast, sneaking around, like a super cool spy. Spies, he guessed, were not supposed to crash into a dragons leg and alert everyone to his presence. His father looked down at him, smiling. He scooped Ermine up, and plonked him on the kitchen bench, where he was making a breakfast of fruit jam. It was Father's specialty, fruit jam. This time, it had raspberries, banana, apple, and coconut. Ermine's favourite.

Mother came in too, her green scales and pale red wings shining in the sunlight.

"Viceroy," Mother's stern but kind voice drifted into his ears. "You know that dirty talons don't go where we eat!"

"Maple, come on, let us have some fun!" Father laughed. "It's Ermine's hatching day after all!"

Mother laughed too. "Happy hatching day Ermie! Come on, help me cook up a cake. We can use the jam that your father made!"

"Yay!" Ermine loved cooking. Some days, he'd cook dinner, instead of his parents.

Pots and pans clattered as he measured up the flour, and poured in the sugar. A knock sounded on the door, and Mother went to open it. Ermine followed excitedly, but Father pulled him back.

"What? Why can't I go to the door as well?" Father wrapped his talons around his mouth.

"Shh, it's a LeafWing out there. She has weapons."

"That means Mother is in danger too!" Ermine struggled out of Father's grip.

"Get the egg and hide Ermine. Your mother and I will be fine."

Ermine nodded, and dashed to his room. He heard the door break down, and voices. Shouts.

He couldn't just run away while his parents were in danger. He wrapped the egg tightly in his talons, and shuffled along the wall. A green and brown dragon, advancing on Mother and Father, was snarling. He could hear their voices.

"What do you want from us?!" Mother yelled.

"I know who you are Maple," the LeafWing said. "And you know what I want."

Mother stumbled backward, into Father's arms. The LeafWing stepped closer. Closer. Closer.

Ermine couldn't stand it any longer. He jumped out of his place behind the wall.

"STOP!"

The LeafWing looked over and chuckled. "A dragonet? Yours, I'm assuming?"

Mother nodded quietly, but Father bent down to take Ermine's talons in his own.

"Ermine you have to run. We will be fine here, but you...you have to go be safe!"

"No, I can't. Not when you and Mother could die."

The LeafWing laughed with delight. She twirled her knife around in her talons. "Let's make this easy shall we? You know what I want. Give it to me, and I go. It's as simple as that."

Mother shook her head. "We've been asked by the queen to hold this information. You can't have it."

Trusted by the queen? He felt a surge of pride for his parents.

Father tried again to get Ermine to go. "The LeafWing will stop at nothing to get this. I'd rather die knowing you were safe."

"No, no you don't have to die at all!" he was choking back tears.

"I'm getting impatient. I'd like to have the information now." The LeafWing began picking bigger weapons and dangerous bugs from her pouches. "This can be done the easy way or the hard way."

Ermine dashed from his father's grip, careful not to drop the egg, and grabbed a knife from the kitchen. He pointed it at the LeafWing.

"Leave Mother and Father alone," he put the egg on a tower of blankets, away from the fighting, then turned his newfound weapon back.

The LeafWing didn't answer. He could hear the loud thump of his heartbeat against his ribcage.

Thump.

Thump.

On the fifth thump, everything changed. The LeafWing moved at the speed of light, disarming him and putting a knife through Father's heart. Ermine remembered the last thing his father had told him.

I'd rather die knowing you were safe.

Knowing you were safe.

Safe.

Safe.

Safe.

The LeafWing smiled. Why was she smiling.

Ermine grabbed the egg. In a flash and a loud scream, Mother was dead too. He clutched the egg. It was the only thing he had left.

"Tiny dragoneeet! Where are youuu!" The LeafWing's voice filled the house as he slipped through the back door. He took one last look at his home, turned, and ran.

He never looked back.