Dragons have existed in Pyrrhia for millennia, although the same dragon species have existed. What if, by way of a chance of fate, this changed?
Wings of Storm (Wings of Fire Story)
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Prologue
So, this is a story I've been working on in my spare time. I wont go much further into it, though this is the first time I'll have posted on a site such as this. Hope that people enjoy it.
Pyrrhia. The home of the first dragons. A continent that none knew how came into existence, it just was. But they didn't care about the how. They only cared about themselves and their people. 'They' being the dragons.
The SkyWings, with their powerful wings making them the fastest fliers on the continent. Their fire breath is hot enough to cause immense blazes that could decimate forests. Their red and orange scales glimmering in the sun that shines down upon their mountainous home.
The IceWings, with their resistances to below-freezing cold and glaring reflected light. Their freezing breath is one of the most dangerous weapons on the continent, able to cause frostbite with the barest touch. Their icy blues and whites fading into the all-encompassing snow of the north, letting them stay hidden in plain sight.
The Mudwings, with their strong, bulky bodies, making them some of the most physically strong dragons in the world. Along with that, their hearth-like fire and exceptionally rare fire resistance. Their main colors of brown and amber camouflaging them in the muddy swamps.
The SeaWings, aquatic dragons capable of breathing underwater, having webbing between their toes and a natural oar. Their flashing scales, giving them their own language, so that they could speak underwater. Their colors of blue, green, and grey flitting past, riding the currents of the deep sea.
The RainWings, whose peaceful nature and vegetarian habits belay their immense danger. Equipped with a venom that melts any organics into a puddle of goo, they are one of the most dangerous species of dragon. Their color-changing scales make them as colorful as the rainforest in which they reside.
And finally, the NightWings, the most mysterious species, and the most reclusive as well. A tribe of dragons full of mind readers and prophets, with the mysterious animus magic not far behind. Their dark scales and star-speckled wings allowing them to traverse the night, unperturbed.
Though, of course, that doesn't mean that these are the only dragons to have ever lived. That is far from the truth. A NightWing prophet by the name of Clearsight knew that. She traveled across the oceans, flying from island to island until she reached a continent of dragons unknown.
It was there that Clearsight found herself living out the rest of her days, and it was also there that her children were born and raised. Hybrid children, in fact. But usually, hybrids were either a mixture of the two parents with features of both, or the genes canceled each other out, leaving the dragon with abnormal features. (Read: Sunny)
But Clearsight's nest was special. Her children with the foreign dragon, a kind of dragon called SilkWings, became an entirely different species. Those descendants are now known as HiveWings.
The SilkWings, who were every color under the sun, barring black from the spectrum. They had their special silk-producing abilities, and were mainly builders and artists, weaving their silk into the architecture as works of art. There was also the rare SilkWing who was born with special silk called Flame Silk. It was and still is, the closest equivalent to the fire breath of Pyrrhia on the Pantalan continent.
HiveWings with their usual yellow, red, orange, and black colors, the last of which being their ties to Clearsight, their common ancestor. They were the continent's soldiers. Born with their weapons, they were the most aggressive race of dragons on Pantala, that aggression coming from Clearsight's genes. With their weapons being stinger tails, and toxic wrist injectors, to venomous claws and teeth, it was no question really.
Along with those two, Pantala held another species of dragon. They were known as the LeafWings. They were the only dragons on Pantala with only one pair of wings, seeing the other two had four wings, much like dragonflies. LeafWings, in their shades of greens and browns, were known for their capability to control the plant life around them. This ability was called leafspeak, for simplicity's sake. They were the producers of Pantala, growing crops and materials for the others to use at an accelerated rate.
These dragons are all unique, and all come from similar origins, Pyrrhia. Through evolution and adaptation, RainWings evolved into SilkWings and LeafWings when they traveled to Pantala. Through either evolution, adaptation, or hybridization, dragon kind has become vast and varied, but still connected at the core.
But, what if they could become more? If different species of dragons create a hybrid dragon, there is a very, very small chance that they could become a new species through a combination of genes, as displayed by the creation of the HiveWings. However, the parents' genes would have to be compatible for a true hybrid to be born. For example, a SkyWing and a MudWing could not create a new species as they are too different.
It is also possible for a new species to emerge through the combination of three species as well. If a hybrid of two species had a child with a member of a different species, then either parent genes could combine.
Although, because of divides between species, hybrids and gene combinations are a near impossibility. This being because of the distance between every race of dragons, and the constant conflicts that follow their every action.
But, as with every system, there are always those who don't follow the rules.
Panic. Fear. Rage. Malice. Bloodlust. Despair. All of those emotions and more were racing through the two fleeing dragons' minds. They were both running from their tribes because of the fact that the two had made an egg.
Though, in the father's case, he was running from two tribes' worth of an army. And that was because he was a hybrid as well. The only reason that he hadn't been thrown off a cliff like every other SkyWing-something else hybrid, was because his own father was a high enough rank in the military for it to not matter.
But back to the chase.
The two dragons had been running for days, their respective tribes' warriors, their soldiers, slowly catching up to the two. The father, Storm, a SkyWing-SeaWing hybrid, had mated with an IceWing by the name of Frostbite. They hadn't exactly been able to hide the egg that Frostbite now held in her claws, and that was how they were figured out.
And so, because of their fear of their egg being thrown off a cliff and smashed to smithereens, they ran. Because of the fear of their own punishments, which would likely be death for one or the other, they ran. And, for fear of one having to live without the other, they ran. Like. Hell.
Panting from the exertion of their nonstop run, Storm slowed to a near stop, only moving forward a few steps a second. It was only because of that near stop that allowed Storm to spot a small ravine in the ground in front of him and his mate. It was large enough for the both of them to be able to fit, but it was small enough that the approaching soldiers would almost certainly miss it in their haste.
"Over there! Tha-That ravine, do you see it?" Storm panted out, pointing at the ravine with his spare forelimb, the other cradling his egg. His voice was dry and cracked, both from lack of water and disuse over the past few days.
His mate, who had also slowed when he had, looked to where he was pointing. "Y-Yes I think so. W-What of it?" Frostbite was stuttering, both from the fear of losing one, or both, of her most precious people, and from exhaustion.
"We must get-get over there, immediately. It-it might be the best way to hide from them." Even as he spoke, he grabbed his mate and dragged her in the direction of the crevasse in the ground.
Frostbite just nodded, letting herself be pulled along as they both sped walked to the ravine. But, as they walked, a small, quiet hiss came from behind them. That was their only warning, though it was the only warning that they needed.
Storm whirled around, a snarl etched on his face as he faced the platoons of ShyWings and SeaWings, with the IceWings not far behind. As he turned and saw the dragons, he became even more furious, due to where the SkyWings aimed their fire.
At Frostbite. His mate. Unacceptable.
He flung himself towards Frostbite, grabbing her elbow and almost throwing her out of the way of the blasts of fire. He whirled around again, staring at all of the incoming streams of crimson flame.
There was fire coming at him from all angles, so it was all he could do to keep it in his line of sight. He knew what would happen if he let those blasts hit him so he resorted to something he hated using. He opened his maw and sucked in a long breath.
Almost immediately, every SkyWing that saw this turned and moved back over a dozen dragon lengths, pulling every Sea- and IceWing along with them. Those that shot their fire, however, saw nothing but their target.
A moment later, the small clearing erupted in azure flames.
Everything that the fire touched immediately burst into flames, and it only took those things that came in contact with it a moment before they disintegrated into ash. Everything from grass to trees, to rocks, and finally the dragons who fired on him.
A minute later, and the clearing was empty of all signs of life barring Storm himself, and his egg. He sighed in relief, glad for the slight reprieve, only to immediately remind himself of the dragons that had retreated. He took a stance once more as dragons flooded the sterile clearing, though one of them took priority over the rest.
"Hello again, Storm." The dragon's voice was deep and rumbling, almost shaking the ground with its intensity. Storm turned slowly, recognizing the voice, and saw a massive SkyWing. Almost half the size again of Storm himself, colored in blood red and gold, orange eyes piercing into his own golden orbs.
In a pinched voice, Storm replied to the dragon. "Father." The elder SkyWing only chuckled in response to Storm's words.
"Why are you here?" Storm was trying to stall for time. He noticed that in the time it took for him to protect himself and his egg, they had circled Frostbite, pointing both spears and firebreath in her direction. He was frantic on the inside but only showed a practiced stoicism upon his features.
"Ah yes, I do believe that you are the reason I am here, Storm. You, and that IceWing over there, have made things incredibly difficult for us. Us, referring to the SkyWings and the IceWings. Do you know just how many problems you have caused?" Storm made no movements whatsoever. To an outside observer, Storm seemed to not even draw breath, but the elder SkyWing knew better.
The SkyWing, whose name was Flare, sighed. "Look, Storm. I know how you feel. I was in the same situation you were in, after all. I can assume why you two ran, but I can assure you that the both of you will not be harmed." He sounded so sincere, looked so desperate, that Storm almost wanted to go with him. But, he then noticed that his father had left something out of his promise.
"The both of us will be safe, father? I don't doubt that. I never did. But, tell me this, father. Would our egg be safe?" A silence fell over the clearing, a scowling Storm glaring pointedly at his very uncomfortable-looking father. Frostbite had been wrapped in chains, though not hurt very much. Her opponents, however, were a different story altogether.
There were several moments of silence that reigned over the clearing before Storm scoffed quietly.
"Exactly. They'll just throw our egg off a cliff, just like every other hybrid egg that the SkyWing's have ever had." Flare, now decidedly extremely uncomfortable, looked away from his son's burning golden gaze guiltily.
It gave Storm enough time to use his firebreath, his fire being colored a bright azure due to his SeaWing heritage. He rushed at the dragons surrounding Frostbite, still holding his egg to his own chest. He was fast, one of the fastest fliers that the SkyWings had ever seen. Certainly fast enough to free his mate from her captors in a whirl of teeth, claws, and azure flames
After only a minute of all-out combat, all of the opposing Sky-, Sea-, and IceWings were either dead or dying on the ground. All except for Flare, Storm's father. He had just watched in stunned silence as his own blood killed, beat, and mutilated an entire wing of dragons. All by himself. With minimal injuries or damage. All while holding his own egg, no less!
Flare made up his mind right then and there and decided to allow his son to escape. Not out of any sentimental feelings, not at all. But out of survival instincts.
His son had the hottest breath in the entire Sky Kingdom, that hatchling with too much fire that the queen found being exempt, of course. Plus, he was the strongest soldier that had been produced by the SkyWings in generations. The old SkyWing decided to let him leave because he couldn't fight Storm and come out alive or in one piece. And to have one kill their father was a terrible sin.
So, with a heavy heart, but also an undertone of satisfaction, Flare turned and began to walk away. He only left six words in his wake.
"Then this is goodbye, my son."
Storm just stood there and watched his father leave, not a noise escaping his maw and not an emotion shown on his face. Only the slight clench of his unoccupied talon was what gave any indication to his frustration and sorrow.
Prologue
Pyrrhia. The home of the first dragons. A continent that none knew how came into existence, it just was. But they didn't care about the how. They only cared about themselves and their people. 'They' being the dragons.
The SkyWings, with their powerful wings making them the fastest fliers on the continent. Their fire breath is hot enough to cause immense blazes that could decimate forests. Their red and orange scales glimmering in the sun that shines down upon their mountainous home.
The IceWings, with their resistances to below-freezing cold and glaring reflected light. Their freezing breath is one of the most dangerous weapons on the continent, able to cause frostbite with the barest touch. Their icy blues and whites fading into the all-encompassing snow of the north, letting them stay hidden in plain sight.
The Mudwings, with their strong, bulky bodies, making them some of the most physically strong dragons in the world. Along with that, their hearth-like fire and exceptionally rare fire resistance. Their main colors of brown and amber camouflaging them in the muddy swamps.
The SeaWings, aquatic dragons capable of breathing underwater, having webbing between their toes and a natural oar. Their flashing scales, giving them their own language, so that they could speak underwater. Their colors of blue, green, and grey flitting past, riding the currents of the deep sea.
The RainWings, whose peaceful nature and vegetarian habits belay their immense danger. Equipped with a venom that melts any organics into a puddle of goo, they are one of the most dangerous species of dragon. Their color-changing scales make them as colorful as the rainforest in which they reside.
And finally, the NightWings, the most mysterious species, and the most reclusive as well. A tribe of dragons full of mind readers and prophets, with the mysterious animus magic not far behind. Their dark scales and star-speckled wings allowing them to traverse the night, unperturbed.
Though, of course, that doesn't mean that these are the only dragons to have ever lived. That is far from the truth. A NightWing prophet by the name of Clearsight knew that. She traveled across the oceans, flying from island to island until she reached a continent of dragons unknown.
It was there that Clearsight found herself living out the rest of her days, and it was also there that her children were born and raised. Hybrid children, in fact. But usually, hybrids were either a mixture of the two parents with features of both, or the genes canceled each other out, leaving the dragon with abnormal features. (Read: Sunny)
But Clearsight's nest was special. Her children with the foreign dragon, a kind of dragon called SilkWings, became an entirely different species. Those descendants are now known as HiveWings.
The SilkWings, who were every color under the sun, barring black from the spectrum. They had their special silk-producing abilities, and were mainly builders and artists, weaving their silk into the architecture as works of art. There was also the rare SilkWing who was born with special silk called Flame Silk. It was and still is, the closest equivalent to the fire breath of Pyrrhia on the Pantalan continent.
HiveWings with their usual yellow, red, orange, and black colors, the last of which being their ties to Clearsight, their common ancestor. They were the continent's soldiers. Born with their weapons, they were the most aggressive race of dragons on Pantala, that aggression coming from Clearsight's genes. With their weapons being stinger tails, and toxic wrist injectors, to venomous claws and teeth, it was no question really.
Along with those two, Pantala held another species of dragon. They were known as the LeafWings. They were the only dragons on Pantala with only one pair of wings, seeing the other two had four wings, much like dragonflies. LeafWings, in their shades of greens and browns, were known for their capability to control the plant life around them. This ability was called leafspeak, for simplicity's sake. They were the producers of Pantala, growing crops and materials for the others to use at an accelerated rate.
These dragons are all unique, and all come from similar origins, Pyrrhia. Through evolution and adaptation, RainWings evolved into SilkWings and LeafWings when they traveled to Pantala. Through either evolution, adaptation, or hybridization, dragon kind has become vast and varied, but still connected at the core.
But, what if they could become more? If different species of dragons create a hybrid dragon, there is a very, very small chance that they could become a new species through a combination of genes, as displayed by the creation of the HiveWings. However, the parents' genes would have to be compatible for a true hybrid to be born. For example, a SkyWing and a MudWing could not create a new species as they are too different.
It is also possible for a new species to emerge through the combination of three species as well. If a hybrid of two species had a child with a member of a different species, then either parent genes could combine.
Although, because of divides between species, hybrids and gene combinations are a near impossibility. This being because of the distance between every race of dragons, and the constant conflicts that follow their every action.
But, as with every system, there are always those who don't follow the rules.
Panic. Fear. Rage. Malice. Bloodlust. Despair. All of those emotions and more were racing through the two fleeing dragons' minds. They were both running from their tribes because of the fact that the two had made an egg.
Though, in the father's case, he was running from two tribes' worth of an army. And that was because he was a hybrid as well. The only reason that he hadn't been thrown off a cliff like every other SkyWing-something else hybrid, was because his own father was a high enough rank in the military for it to not matter.
But back to the chase.
The two dragons had been running for days, their respective tribes' warriors, their soldiers, slowly catching up to the two. The father, Storm, a SkyWing-SeaWing hybrid, had mated with an IceWing by the name of Frostbite. They hadn't exactly been able to hide the egg that Frostbite now held in her claws, and that was how they were figured out.
And so, because of their fear of their egg being thrown off a cliff and smashed to smithereens, they ran. Because of the fear of their own punishments, which would likely be death for one or the other, they ran. And, for fear of one having to live without the other, they ran. Like. Hell.
Panting from the exertion of their nonstop run, Storm slowed to a near stop, only moving forward a few steps a second. It was only because of that near stop that allowed Storm to spot a small ravine in the ground in front of him and his mate. It was large enough for the both of them to be able to fit, but it was small enough that the approaching soldiers would almost certainly miss it in their haste.
"Over there! Tha-That ravine, do you see it?" Storm panted out, pointing at the ravine with his spare forelimb, the other cradling his egg. His voice was dry and cracked, both from lack of water and disuse over the past few days.
His mate, who had also slowed when he had, looked to where he was pointing. "Y-Yes I think so. W-What of it?" Frostbite was stuttering, both from the fear of losing one, or both, of her most precious people, and from exhaustion.
"We must get-get over there, immediately. It-it might be the best way to hide from them." Even as he spoke, he grabbed his mate and dragged her in the direction of the crevasse in the ground.
Frostbite just nodded, letting herself be pulled along as they both sped walked to the ravine. But, as they walked, a small, quiet hiss came from behind them. That was their only warning, though it was the only warning that they needed.
Storm whirled around, a snarl etched on his face as he faced the platoons of ShyWings and SeaWings, with the IceWings not far behind. As he turned and saw the dragons, he became even more furious, due to where the SkyWings aimed their fire.
At Frostbite. His mate. Unacceptable.
He flung himself towards Frostbite, grabbing her elbow and almost throwing her out of the way of the blasts of fire. He whirled around again, staring at all of the incoming streams of crimson flame.
There was fire coming at him from all angles, so it was all he could do to keep it in his line of sight. He knew what would happen if he let those blasts hit him so he resorted to something he hated using. He opened his maw and sucked in a long breath.
Almost immediately, every SkyWing that saw this turned and moved back over a dozen dragon lengths, pulling every Sea- and IceWing along with them. Those that shot their fire, however, saw nothing but their target.
A moment later, the small clearing erupted in azure flames.
Everything that the fire touched immediately burst into flames, and it only took those things that came in contact with it a moment before they disintegrated into ash. Everything from grass to trees, to rocks, and finally the dragons who fired on him.
A minute later, and the clearing was empty of all signs of life barring Storm himself, and his egg. He sighed in relief, glad for the slight reprieve, only to immediately remind himself of the dragons that had retreated. He took a stance once more as dragons flooded the sterile clearing, though one of them took priority over the rest.
"Hello again, Storm." The dragon's voice was deep and rumbling, almost shaking the ground with its intensity. Storm turned slowly, recognizing the voice, and saw a massive SkyWing. Almost half the size again of Storm himself, colored in blood red and gold, orange eyes piercing into his own golden orbs.
In a pinched voice, Storm replied to the dragon. "Father." The elder SkyWing only chuckled in response to Storm's words.
"Why are you here?" Storm was trying to stall for time. He noticed that in the time it took for him to protect himself and his egg, they had circled Frostbite, pointing both spears and firebreath in her direction. He was frantic on the inside but only showed a practiced stoicism upon his features.
"Ah yes, I do believe that you are the reason I am here, Storm. You, and that IceWing over there, have made things incredibly difficult for us. Us, referring to the SkyWings and the IceWings. Do you know just how many problems you have caused?" Storm made no movements whatsoever. To an outside observer, Storm seemed to not even draw breath, but the elder SkyWing knew better.
The SkyWing, whose name was Flare, sighed. "Look, Storm. I know how you feel. I was in the same situation you were in, after all. I can assume why you two ran, but I can assure you that the both of you will not be harmed." He sounded so sincere, looked so desperate, that Storm almost wanted to go with him. But, he then noticed that his father had left something out of his promise.
"The both of us will be safe, father? I don't doubt that. I never did. But, tell me this, father. Would our egg be safe?" A silence fell over the clearing, a scowling Storm glaring pointedly at his very uncomfortable-looking father. Frostbite had been wrapped in chains, though not hurt very much. Her opponents, however, were a different story altogether.
There were several moments of silence that reigned over the clearing before Storm scoffed quietly.
"Exactly. They'll just throw our egg off a cliff, just like every other hybrid egg that the SkyWing's have ever had." Flare, now decidedly extremely uncomfortable, looked away from his son's burning golden gaze guiltily.
It gave Storm enough time to use his firebreath, his fire being colored a bright azure due to his SeaWing heritage. He rushed at the dragons surrounding Frostbite, still holding his egg to his own chest. He was fast, one of the fastest fliers that the SkyWings had ever seen. Certainly fast enough to free his mate from her captors in a whirl of teeth, claws, and azure flames
After only a minute of all-out combat, all of the opposing Sky-, Sea-, and IceWings were either dead or dying on the ground. All except for Flare, Storm's father. He had just watched in stunned silence as his own blood killed, beat, and mutilated an entire wing of dragons. All by himself. With minimal injuries or damage. All while holding his own egg, no less!
Flare made up his mind right then and there and decided to allow his son to escape. Not out of any sentimental feelings, not at all. But out of survival instincts.
His son had the hottest breath in the entire Sky Kingdom, that hatchling with too much fire that the queen found being exempt, of course. Plus, he was the strongest soldier that had been produced by the SkyWings in generations. The old SkyWing decided to let him leave because he couldn't fight Storm and come out alive or in one piece. And to have one kill their father was a terrible sin.
So, with a heavy heart, but also an undertone of satisfaction, Flare turned and began to walk away. He only left six words in his wake.
"Then this is goodbye, my son."
Storm just stood there and watched his father leave, not a noise escaping his maw and not an emotion shown on his face. Only the slight clench of his unoccupied talon was what gave any indication to his frustration and sorrow.