Fire Flying- Art Book #5

~Writing is also an art form~

Seven SkyWings sat around a crackling fire in the center of their cave. The Gold Battalion, Sparrow, Crimson, Rusty, Owl, Flicker, Corundum, and Falcon, had all finished their meal and were telling stories. All of them found storytelling a wonderful way to unwind after a day of patrols. When they were finished, whoever hadn't already passed out from the warmth and  a full belly would be off for nightly patrols. It was usually Sparrow or Falcon, but they minded little.

"Alright, so." Flicker said, eager to hear tales from his battalion-mates about their lives before the war. "Who's first? Tell a story about your life before becoming a soldier."

"Why don't you go first then, Flick?" Sparrow asked, curling into a sleepy ball.

"No no nowait..." Slurred Owl, who was already quite tipsy. The brownish SkyWing set down his drink, and sat back on his haunches. "When I was just a dragonet, my mother and I became very poor. She was a horrid gambler. luckily for her, her son was rather trim and handsome. So she sold me to a brothel.

I was the only boy in that stinking house full of gussied-up whores." He spat. "I wasn't in the same line of work as some of the ladies I lived there with. But I worked all right. Day after day, I was the 'charming little errand boy', fetching drinks and things and cleaning up after customers. It was disgusting.

After years living in that wretched whore-house, I was almost sad to leave. When the draft letter was slipped under the door of my little room, I nearly cried. Instead, I drank. And then, I came here." Owl finished, reaching for his drink again, but promptly knocking it over.

"I can top it." Rusty growled, pinching himself to keep from falling asleep. "I used to be the Queen's bodyguard."

"No effin way." Flicker gasped, amazed.

"Yes effin way." Rusty continued. "But they didn't want an old bonebag being the one escorting the Queen all over the place. But there was no way in seven hells that I was going to quit working. So I was sent here as a retirement thing. Pretty sure Scarlet hopes i die here."

"We all hope you die here." Falcon griped. She sat up and yawned. "Okay okay. Before being relocated after a bad wing injury, I was a general in the SkyWing army." she said. "General Falcon of Platinum Battalion. I ran half the army."

"I have a hard time believing it." Corundum smiled.

"Oh it's true." Crimson spoke up. "I used to be underneath her."

"Now she's just fat and useless." Rusty said. Falcon snarled at him.

"I used to be a witch." Corundum said softly.

"We know." Sparrow added. "You still are a witch."

"It's true!" She said. "I was one of the last of my order. The Shadowscales. We were a band of witches that used ancient SkyWing magic rituals to do all sorts of things! I once brewed a poition cursed to kill one of the old Queen's daughters. I was so surprised to find her death the next morning was unexpected and untraceable."

"Wow. You are heartless." Flicker said, wide-eyed.

"I did healing rituals too! They involved a firescales dragon. When I had my son around, we would both stick around the pre-op tents to heal any injured SkyWings too valuable to lose."

"Too bad for you that he's dead." Crimson said.

"I used to be an orphan." Flicker chirped. "Before coming here, I lived with Queen Scarlet fro a little while!"

"That's nice, Flicker." Crimson said, dismissing him. The Colonel cleared his throat. "I never would tell anyone this. But considering I'm drunk, and I will kill anyone in this room who blabs about it... I used to be a bard."

Rusty and Owl spat out their drinks, laughing. Corundum and the others barely managed to keep from gales of laughter themselves.

"You. A bard??" Rusty howled. "Mister 'big bad Crimson', a maker of merriment and mirth! HA!!"

"Watch it old man. I might have trouble remembering how to play the lute, but kicking your scrawny ass is a skill that will never grow dull.

Rusty promptly shut up.

Sparrow grabbed the pitcher of water, pouring it over the flames and extinguishing them immediately. The dim light of wall-mounted torches still made the room barely visible.

"Off to sleep now." Crimson snapped. "Owl, Rusty. You two are on night watch. Next time, I'd be careful before turning a blind eye to the importance of mirth-making." He slithered away, chuckling.

"I am much too drunk for this." Owl said, still laughing