Wings of fire-Fire in Ice

Prologue

"The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if the thine eye be evil, the whole body shall be full of darkness." - Anonymous.

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"Cold...why is it so c-cold...?"

A voice whispered in the howling wind in the tundra as he hears the mountains whistle, shivering in the harsh, stormy blizzard as he struggled to keep himself down from the blizzard that was trying to grasp him. Death loomed in the corner of the little dragonet's eyes, preparing to approach him before he reached maturity because of the cold. With him all alone...

His name was winter, his name is simply who he is right now. Not a prince, or a mighty warrior that'll bring peace, or a mean jerk. Just the name winter and that was it.

Nowhere to go, no home to come back to, no childhood friends to come to rescue him.

He stumbled onto the snow tripping as he cried, feeling as if he was caught in flame as pain soon whelmed him in the frigid temperatures of the blizzard. Frostbite in his talons and feet, his vision blurred through the dead of night.

With crystals liquid slipped down his face as far as it could before freezing under his chin, making his face covered in sparkling teardrops as it broke off to hit the ground when the wind blew against his face. Trying to make his way through the thick snow.

His body left behind a small trail of thick snow, which was quickly blown back by the blizzard, for there was no longer a trance to be found. No way home...

It was awful, and it was cold. Very cold, colder than an icewing can handle, blizzards are dangerous no matter what dragons they are, like Sandwings with sandstorms or seawings with whirlpools.

Except in this society, no one will like him. No one in this frozen kingdom, not a single soul. And if there were someone, somebody who has talons open wide for him to reach, someone to guide him to safety in their wings. But no one will, as they would instead close it in fear and pull it away. As if they were afraid of losing their reputation, their future, and their place on that stupid wall. The gift of order, the wretched curse.

To get rid of the weak.

The royals think it's a gift just like any other animus touch objects, a gift that benefits them as well the dragons who serve them. But for many of them, it doesn't and suffers the consequences. Just like his father, the father with hopes of making him proud. But no matter what he does he always fails...

And even though he's two, it started happening when he was months old...

~*~*~

*Crack* *Crack*

A little head started poking of a shell, with scales like snow as his body started to appear as he the tiny dragonet tried to wiggle out. It felt small, so he started kicking.

And after a few minutes of doing this, he finally burst out.

When he did, he saw himself in a room, with weird batches of soft cushions around him, as the walls are beautifully decorated with art. At the time he didn't think much of it because well... he just hatched.

But as his eyes started to wander, he found himself staring at two white disoriented figures standing in front of him.

So without a second to think the dragonet tried to speak but ended up being cute. "Mrrrrp?"

The two figures approached him, with their faces starting to form for him, and spoke in a deep angry voice, "oh another male..."

But before they could reach him, there was another sound cracking, right beside him.