Obsidian Wings

It started with a prophecy, of a being with wings who could bring devastation to the humans.

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The hunter crept up on the hybrid, it's wings as white as snow. With a steady hand the hunter nocked an arrow and shot it down. It shrieked, sending hundreds of wings into the air, and even more sound in the under growth. The hunter leaped out, and shot it again, piercing through it's heart, it let out one final shriek of agonizing pain before collapsing

It was the first one to fall.

The prophecy was warped with time, to an unnatural being. A hybrid

Over the next few decades, thousands of hunters rose to the challenge: Kill a hybrid.

There were books published on them. Guides on their mannerisms, illustrated books of them, taxidermy halls of them, newspapers on the newest catch.

Soon it was less of an act of fear, and more of a sport.

Each one brought in a heafty price in the market. The gossamer wings of a beeling, the fur of a foxling, the horns of a satyr, the wings of a butterfly, the pearl of an Enderian, the wings of an avian.

Now hybrids are far and few, Philza just happens to be one. He and a few of the older hybrids taught the young not to meddle in things outside, because if there is to be peace, there must be separation

That is, until Techno came around.