Wings of Fire: Dragons, Steel, and Pom-Poms

XII - For Science!

>At a scavenger den_

Pain.

That was the first thing Argonaut's first waking thought was aware of. The absolute worst headache he'd ever felt in his life rampaged through his skull, far worse than the migraine that occurred whenever he accidentally surfaced too quickly after spending a long time deep underwater. It consumed his awareness, and throbbed horribly along with his heartbeat.

His ears were ringing. His teeth hurt. His bones ached. Every muscle and scale felt sore. His wing membranes felt strangely raw, and he was queasy. He let out a small groan. A groan he himself could hear.

Wait. I don't remember being in the open air. When did I get out of the water?

The memories of the past few... hours? Day? He knew not how long; came back to him in a rush, worsening his headache further. The peculiar search mission, the creepy huge shapes, the corpse... and the explosion.

The explosion. What happened? Did it get me? Is that how this happened? Why am I in the open air? Am I dead?

Argonaut tried to move his talons- which were splayed out alongside him- to rub his snout. Only to find that they were restrained.

His heart rate accelerated. Out of all the things any patroller had nightmares to, waking up chained was one of the worst. Because, it meant a talonful of things: It meant that you and your wing had been ambushed, and had been beaten so thoroughly and easily that your opponents didn't even need to kill you to end the fight, but were able so much as incapacitate and bind you. A blow to any dragon's pride. Made worse by the fact that the dragons they were fighting in this war were all either capable of breathing fire or freezing cold air. They obviously would not have used those powers when defeating you if you were still in a state that was healthy enough to necessitate being binded by your enemies.

Further from that point, it also meant that all your Wing Mates were certainly dead. Dragons didn't have much use for prisoners, unless said prisoner was royalty or of some other important stature, which a patroller would certainly not be. The only reason you were still alive was because you were, for all intents and purposes, a trophy. Dragons only need one trophy from any given triumph to prove their point.

Which led to the third thing it meant, which was perhaps more specific to this war in particular: Being captured as a SeaWing patroller implied that you had either been taken by SkyWings, MudWings, or SandWings (The IceWings don't take prisoners). Although the two former options were much more likely. If you had been captured by either Sky or MudWings, it inevitably meant that you would eventually wind up in Queen Scarlet's arena, where reports from spies and long range scouts confirmed you were doomed to an entertainingly gruesome death in gladiatorial combat with other prisoners in front of a crowd of SkyWing spectators.

Trying to fight his rising panic, he opened his eyes. An action he instantly regretted as he was immediately and utterly blinded by the great, glaring brightness that was the sun. His already unbearable headache became worse, and he slammed his eyelids back shut. He grit his aching teeth and bit back an undignified whimper.

With his sense of sight out of commission, he instead opted to use his other senses to try and get a read on his situation. The ringing within his ears was slowly abating, gradually allowing more sounds through. He also had his sense of smell, which was probably the only sense he had that wasn't being actively interfered with by his pain.

He took a long breath through his nostrils, not liking how his chest almost rattled from the action.

Moons, that sinking-cylinder-explosion-thing did a whole whale on me. What in the Great Currents was that thing, anyway?