Wings of Fire - Cavernous Promises

Chapter 1

Dragonfly II

Dragonfly always knew he was special. After all, he was the son of Vinegaroon, and he was related to the Queen herself. He was royalty. He was grace. He should be treated like the King of all Pantala. Instead, his stupid Aunt owned the throne, and he could do nothing about it. He was a male, meaning the throne would never reach him. Even if Wasp died. Even if his family died. Even if the entire HiveWing tribe fell. It would never reach him, and his heart hated himself for that.

Dragonfly was currently walking through his home, Vinegaroon hive. He loved it here. The only thing that annoyed him deeply was the fact that it belonged to his mother, and not him. "I should start a protest for heir rights..." He growled to himself, as annoyed as ever. The highlight of his day would be to visit the all-time, best cloaking shop ever. He loved his clothing, especially his capes. They were top-notch to him. They made him who he was. The best heir of all Pantala anyone could have ever hoped for. The HiveWings and SilkWings were lucky to have him.

He fluttered his wings as he passed from stall to stall, keeping his head and hopes raised high. Everyone that passed him bowed respectfully, as they should. Yes, bow to me. I am supreme over you all, and always will be. This is the way it should be. Dragonfly thought self-centredly. He was nearing the cloak stall now, and his dreams alike.

I need a new red cape, my old one is as wrecked as the bakers down street. Too bad they can't do anything about it, he chuckled to himself, laughing at those who had less than him. I'd hate to be in their position, am I right? Hah!

As Dragonfly stalked down the highway, he came across a band of SilkWing dragonets. Peasants. He scorned. Imagine not having wings. How pathetic. He fluttered past them, stopping in front of a young, red-toned SilkWing in the middle of his path. Dragonfly eyed him with greed and suspicion, waiting for his tribute to him. When none came, he hissed. "Where, may I ask, where is your acknowledgement to me? Don't you know who I am?" Dragonfly scowled, majestically opening his bee-like wings.

"Can't say so, nope," the SilkWing replied, not even a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He really doesn't know who I am! Dragonfly yelled in his mind frustrated. I'll show him, oh don't you worry.

"I-" He started before being outrageously cut off by the sound of the crimson SilkWing in front of him.

"Come to think of it," the dragonet stated, "you sound like a perfectly self-centred idiot."

Dragonfly opened his jaws, about to protest, before the SilkWing turned and marched away from him, peasant-talking to some orange of his kin.

He did not just- Dragonfly was speechless. WHO WOULD EVEN DARE OPPOSE ME! NEVER MIND A LITTLE PUNY SILKWING!

He was outraged, and ready to tear a hive to shreds. Dragonfly was not about to let that little crimson dragonet get on with his day, not after that witty remark to his face. He began his effortless league toward the dragonet and his miniscule band of 'friends', raging at every step he placed in front of the other. Yellow lit lanterns passed him as he stormed by, target in sight.

Before he could reach his destination, Dragonfly stopped dead, his ears prickling. Suddenly cautious, he allowed his heart to slip into the rhythm of his thoughts, beating like a titanium drum to the pounding sound of an upbeat tune.

He could hear growls of distress from across the street.

He craned his neck in search of the source, but his eyes deceived him countless times. The rays of sun blinded him viciously, like a prowling lion on the open savannah, but he kept his gaze.

After what seemed like centuries of looking into the open air, he found his source. Two HiveWings were opposing each other, one as dark as night, the other as bright as daylight. Their quarrels were distant, but Dragonfly could make out their speech in brief paragraphs.

"Now, listen here you disrespectful young dragon!" The midnight-coloured one hissed, his yellow eyes gleaming like a thousand stars in the sunlight. "I've asked you to listen to me for as long as this hive has stood!"

The one with scales like the sun seemed unaffected, but still, he swiped his tail with fury, curling his jaws to a growl, "I am sick and tired of this. I don't care if you helped Wasp take the throne, I don't care if nobody will ever live up to you, and I certainly do not care about your plain, fool hearty standards!"

Wait, what?! Who helped Aunt-or-whoever take the throne? I'm getting so involved in this. Dragonfly began his march over to the two quarrelling dragons, more focused than ever. He stopped right between the two, eyeing both with a furrowed brow. He allowed them to show their disapproval, before snarling, "who are you, and why did you help my Aunt take the throne?"

"Oh," The black one replied, a devilish smirk across his snout, "so, you're one of Wasp's nieces, I see."

Excuse me? Dragonfly felt a growl bubbling in his throat, what is wrong with everyone's respect today? "Nephew," he snapped.

"Oh, my bad," the same HiveWing replied again, sarcasm practically dripping off his voice.

Dragonfly had just become aware of the icy stare gazing into the back of his glittering, gem-like horns. He whipped around to find the yellow HiveWing, his eyes piercing his soul like daggers to a heart. "What are you looking at..." Dragonfly thought for a moment, before hissing, "peasant."

"Oh, nothing..." The dragonet stepped closer, whispering, "just the fact that you interrupted our conversation."

"Do you not know who I am?" He roared. "I have every right to."

"Mmmmm sure," the dragonet tread back, shuffling his iridescent wings inward.

"No, no, the question is," the night-black one started again, "do you know who I am?"

"No."

The black dragon deflated a bit, before remarking, "you should really catch up on your research then. Missing school?"

"I demand you to shut up," Dragonfly barked.

"We still don't know who you are, fancy," the sun-coloured one inputted.

"I told you," he growled, raising his voice, as if he were a spokes-dragon, "I am the nephew of Queen Wasp and the son of Vinegaroon!"

"Cool," said the obsidian HiveWing, "but that's not a name, son."

This idiot is really stepping on my talons.

Dragonfly spread out his wings, leaping into the air with one graceful step. "I am Prince Dragonfly the second, heir of Vinegaroon." he stated.

"That's nice," the black one responded, without a single hint of manners. "I'm Blackjack, and this is my son, Locust, over here," Blackjack stated, without reason, nudging his son on the shoulder with one, sparkling wing.

What awfully weird names, Dragonfly thought, I bet they wish they were me.

"You didn't answer my question, bumblebee," he shot, snarling through his teeth. He landed his talons on the stone ground and shifted his tail to the side, purposely brushing past Locust's maw.

The dragonet snickered but seemed unaffected, yet again.

"I helped your 'Auntie' train for the throne," Blackjack hissed, "I thought she would have told you that, but then again, Wasp is a filthy liar as it is."

An actual fact that came from that HiveWing's jaws, surprising. "Mhm," Dragonfly agreed.

"Well, this was fun, goodbye," Blackjack said, hauling Locust down the stalls with him, one wing in his jet-black talons.

How disrespectful... Dragonfly growled in his mind, fury practically raging out from his ears, I will have one thing go correct today!

Without any further doubt, he stormed down the streets of the hive, heading straight for the shop where his heart most desperately wanted to be.