Wings of Fire: The Forgotten Dragonets

The Truth

"Three - actually four - years ago I was a normal dragonet. Average scales, average tree-gliding, average venom. And I was happy." Boto began his story slowly, his eyes slightly glazed, as if he were seeing something far, far away. "I had a friend that, while we weren't family (we'd tested venom early on, hoping in vain that we were), was like a sister. She was fierce: the loudest, most opinionated dragonet in my sheltered world, and I loved her for it . . .

"But Dart - that was her name, Dart - had ideas that no one, not even I, could agree with. She wanted to be queen, and wanted an army like the Mudwings had. Most of us didn't even know there was a war going on, but she . . . she wandered near the edge of the rainforest weekly. She'd listened to gossip from the soldiers she heard passing by, and decided that the best thing for the Rainwings would be to ally with Blaze. I don't know why - she never explained."

Boto sighed, shaking his wings out so they filled the small tunnel. The scales began to shift colors, until a scene lay spread before her. Small, bright dragons walked around aimlessly on his wings, and Doomsayer remembered back when he'd boasted about his camouflage skill. Clearly he hadn't been lying. As he continued the tale, the shapes moved, painting a story of betrayal and exile.

"She was five at the time, two years older than me. Even then I knew her 'plan' wouldn't work. We all did. But the Council of Queens couldn't stand that she would even suggest threatening their perfect world. One night I was near their platform - the highest one, closest to the sun - when I heard them whispering of murder. Dart's murder." On his wings she could see the small, dark shape of a dragonet listening in the trees. The image moved, and flew through the jungle, swinging on branches to where he knew his friend would be. She was larger than him, but not by much, eyes bright in the darkness. "I saw her there, was so glad that I'd gotten there before the queens. I thought I'd saved her. Then I saw something move in the leaves behind her, knew that only I could stop my friend from dying. I shot my venom into the darkness, hoping that I'd hit something. I knew I had, I could hear them screaming as the poison worked its way through their veins, right to their heart. 

"That's when it hit me. There had been no assassin, just a sloth. And I was so young, my aim still not perfect. And the screaming dragon . . . That was Dart." He swallowed and gave a shuddering breath. "I stayed there all night, listening to her die and knowing there was nothing anyone could do to help her. When they found me there the next morning . . . There were no questions, no trial like you have here. The evidence was obvious, the motive unimportant. 

"I was exiled immediately, my last act in the Rainforest the act of killing my friend. I had to leave, and fled as far away as I could. I found the Sandwings and learned to blend in. I got mocked, until they realized that I would fight back, barbed tail or no. I became Dragonbite, ruthless and heartless - a killer for hire so dangerous few actually dared to give me a job. I didn't go looking for charity, begging for water and rations like some did. I would have destroyed my reputation if they knew I was but a dragonet. If they'd known I was a Rainwing . . . heh, I'd be dead.

"But I lived. And here I am now." His voice had gone cold, his wings fading back to black. "Now tell me, Doomsayer: What is your story?"