The Bright Future (2.0)

A Successful Mission

"I have the perfect place," called Clearsight from Fathom's right. The wind was picking up and rain was beginning to fall. "I know exactly where to hide."

"Tell me where," replied Bloodhawk from behind them.

"By the coast, in one of those abandoned caves. No one ever goes there except for me and Darkstalker."

They banked right until they were flying for the coast instead of inland. "How long does he have to hide in there?" shouted Darkstalker over the howling wind. "Until the guards give up, or just hide until he can make a run for it?"

"Depends," mused Fathom. "We could just, like, I don't know... make a portal for him to travel through? Then he doesn't have to fly that far."

Darkstalker tipped his head and pondered. "That's a good idea," he agreed. "Let's hide in the cave, then make a magic portal, out of sight. Just to be safe, you know."

"But you don't have your scr--I mean, you shouldn't be using magic," argued Clearsight.

"Oh please, it's one little spell," snorted Darkstalker. "Why would one spell-- a helpful one, no less--tip me over to the evil side?"

They spiraled into a dive at Clearsight's command; they had reached the coast. Waves were roaring 20 feet high, snarling bitterly at the sand, digging its angry claws into the beach. They did their best to avoid any ocean spray, but it was kind of hard when they were this close to the water.

In here, mouthed Clearsight, gesturing to a dark cave. Bloodhawk slipped in first. Darkstalker went next, then Clearsight, Fathom started forwards. He paused, listening. Did I hear a wingbeat? he thought anxiously. The SeaWing prince craned his neck, looking into the distance. Nothing there. But was that...

Oh no.

At least a dozen NightWings were flying smoothly in their direction, and all of them appeared to be holding long, sharp spears. The one in the front barked an order at the others, and they split up in different directions. Fathom lost track of them almost immediately; they blended in so well in the night.

"NightWing guards are here," hissed Fathom, hurrying into the cave. "We have to go!"

A plume of flame flickered to life from the back of the cave, illuminating the three dragonet's faces. "What?" gasped Clearsight. She immediately extinguished her torch, but all of them had night vision, so they could still see. "Oh no--we have to go!"

"It'll be really hard to run away," pointed out Fathom. "They all split up and I think they're circling our cave. They'll murder him as soon as we leave the cave." he paused. "Wait, what's your name?"

"I'm Prince Bloodhawk. I already know your names, no need for a formal introduction."

"So, what should we do?" asked Darkstalker, sounding anxious. "Build a portal quickly, or run for our lives?"

A footstep crunched from the front of the cave. 

"Run," whispered Clearsight.

"Let's split up," said Bloodhawk, in a commanding voice. "Everyone goes in different directions, that may confuse them--"

"You're so noticeable, with your colorful wings," argued Darkstalker. "You'd be killed at once--"

"Yes, yes he will," growled a deep voice from directly behind them. They whipped around to see a muscular NightWing, holding a wickedly sharp knife. "The prince and his murderous family all deserve death."

"RUN!" said Clearsight, this time in a shouted voice. Fathom hissed a spell under his breath and blasted the cave wall apart, allowing them to fly. He made the stones crumble behind them, slowing down the pursuing NightWing, but not killing him.

They were all flying close together--too close to be safe. The guards would surely notice them, then gather more guards, then it wouldn't be long before they were dead. But what spell could come in use? Make them invisible? Kill the guards? Make just Bloodhawk invisible?

A zip and a thunk nearly startled Fathom out of the air, but he wasn't the only one whose wingbeats faltered.

Bloodhawk had caught a spear in his neck, and he was falling in slow motion towards the ground. Clearsight let out a sharp cry of disbelief and stretched out her talons, but Darkstalker grabbed her. "There's nothing we can do," he said in a shaking voice. 

Fathom's numb talon was grabbed by Darkstalker's. He vaguely heard a spell being cast, felt himself floating up, and suddenly, was on solid ground. Darkstalker had teleported them back into Fathom's room. 

The SeaWing prince threw his wings over his head and clenched his eyes shut. The NightWings--the awful, smug, entitled, arrogant, murderous NightWings--had succeeded in their mission.