New Flames

Chapter 23

Flame's walk back to the sleeping caves was anything but brisk.

No matter how much he concentrated, he struggled to find his way back to the sleeping caves. Twice already he'd walked into the central courtyard with the statue of the two dragons, and he still had no idea where to go.

It was dark outside, and most medics were still in the dining hall. He saw a scribe hurrying with some scrolls and a few dragons with the brown sashes of the transport staff lifting and carrying a wooden crate, but he didn't recognize anyone.

"I should just fly. Why walk when you can just get out of here quicker," he thought. No one seemed to be checking on him right now, so they wouldn't mind if he flew back to the sleeping caves instead of getting lost once more.

He spread his wings, taking off sloppily. His wings hurt from the flying he'd done in the morning and the shock of the sleeping dart, which was still wearing off.

He outstretched his talons to the night sky, feeling the cool air brush them.

Treen had told him to face his demons. He knew exactly what that meant.

It meant getting rid of that earring.

Flame could see it in his mind, in his webs. The day that Clay and Sunny had given it to him had been one of the worst of his life. Sure, he was finally free of the chains that anchored him to the same cave as that wretched NightWing animus. Flame remembered little to nothing of the time he'd spent there. He knew he'd tried to free himself of those chains, to try to hurt that NightWing again, according to him. Stonemover, if he remembered right (not that he cared). But he didn't remember exactly what he did. What he said. Or why he did it.

But that earring also made his scar grow back. And feeling his scales be ripped apart once more had made him want to tear the tail barb off from every SandWing on Pyrrhia.

He flew over the roofs of Summit Central, the wind buffering his gliding as he tried to focus back on flying.

He noticed he was flying the wrong way too late, and he recognized the form of the hospital's entrance when he was already over it.

Flame couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he saw glowing scales below him, as well as the shape of another, much larger dragon. His best guess? Those were a SeaWing and an adult SkyWing.

And only knew of one SeaWing residing at Summit Central.

"Placoid?" He wondered, confused. "Why is he just standing there?"

In the past, he knew he would have swooped down, demanding answers. Or maybe he would have teased the SeaWing until he got what he wanted (or a good laugh), just like he did with Squid.

But right now, he felt numb. Not even solving a small mystery could distract him from his plan.

He swiftly veered back on course and, with newly rebuilt determination, he reached the torchlit landing crest in front of the sleeping caves in just a few wing beats.

Flame halted for a second before walking in his cave's corridor, listening. But he didn't hear anything, not even Rail's nightly sharp breath intake.

The SkyWing stalked inside, clearly seeing the cave curtains undrawn and open. No one was there.

"Good," he thought, as he walked towards his cave, drawing the curtain after walking in.

His eyes focused slowly in the torchlight, but there he saw the few belonging he'd stashed: a small satchel he'd found inside his cave the day he arrived, a wooden bucket for water, and what looked like a towel to clean one's claws.