The Dragons of Chimarra

Prologue

The SharkScale was running. Running for his life, for his freedom, for his heritage, and away from his honor, his home, everything he stood for and his pod. Running from Athenia. But he was with Slipblade. Darkpool scampered around, tripping over his fins. Curse the land. Slipblade was a lot more smooth with running on land. She has more experience. The stone beneath them was wet and slippery from the water they had splashed.

Darkpool's talons slid, making him crash down on the ground.

"Get up! We must go!" Slipblade warbled. She wasn't speaking the dryland dragon language. What she said sounded like a couple of unsettling  low-toned shrieks . But Darkpool understood.

He got up quickly, testing out his ankle. It was sprained. Curse moving on land. He didn't know how the SoarScales managed to flop around like maniacs on this block of dirt.

"I'm coming," he trilled. "Go. I'll catch up!"

Slipblade nodded and continued running. Darkpool gingerly placed his weight on the sprained ankle, hissing when it hurt. He inhaled deeply and limped after Slipblade.

***

"They're hatching!" Slipblade trilled happily. Darkpool swam over. It has been a year since their escape from the other SharkScales. They had found a nice cave connected to the sea, in ShoreScale territory. There was a lagoon in the cave that was connected to a complicated underwater tunnel system, making it the perfect home.

"They're beautiful!  What coincidence that they happened to be born on the new moon of the Summer Solstice! What should we name them?" Darkpool warbled. Slipblade and his eggs were hatching. Two perfect silver eggs that had a pale blue sheen. A pale silver and blue snout was already poking from one of the cracked shells. The other dragonet had its dark blue tail poking out.

Crack!

The first egg revealed a handsome dragonet with silver and blue scales, and blazing red-orange eyes. His fins were specked with darker blue and slightly glowing swirly patterns danced around his fins. He beared glow marks around his eyes and snout.

"You can name him," Slipblade trilled.

"Sharpfin," Darkpool decided. Sharpfin squeaked happily, wobbling around. The other egg cracked in half with a small crunching noise.

The younger dragonet was beautiful. Her scales were dark blue with midnight blue accents and pale silver specks. Her eyes were like flames itself, flickering dangerously, entrancingly, beautifully.

"You're name is Flamegaze," Slipblade cooed.

Flamegaze chirped and then barrel-rolled into Sharpfin. Slipblade smiled and Darkpool chuckled. What wonderful dragonets they had.