Wings of Fire - Fallen Souls

CHAPTER EIGHT

Whitedust opened her eyes to see the morning light shining in her window. She wondered how long she had slept the night before, not responding to Scroll and all.

"Ugh," Whitedust said as she heaved herself up to sit atop her sandy bed. She hated waking up in the mornings. Most dragons (so her parents had told her) wake up early with a positive and bubbly attitude. Whitedust was just exasperated in the mornings, she didn't know what she could do in the mornings, or how she could escape all the lies she'd began to cover up. Life was just too hard sometimes.

She remembered what had happened the night before. Her father wanted her to explore the Sand Kingdom. Again. She didn't understand that. She was four years old, not two! She wasn't a baby, and she hated how she was treated like one. She didn't even know why her mom and her dad-

Whitedust's eyes widened, not being very sleepy anymore.

Her dad.

He was thinking to himself last night. During the conversation. He wanted to snoop around in the scroll to see more of her secrets. Whitedust's neck stretched out as her head under into place; she then gripped her claws on to the side of her bed and leaned forward, making her look underneath the bed.

The scroll was still there. Whitedust let out a sigh of relief as she reached her talom under her bed to pick it up. She leaned back and sat against the wall on her bed. She looked at the sheath intently, studying every detail of it. She took one talon, and popped the scroll out of its sheath and began to examine the scroll itself. She remembered that every time she would receive a message from Scroll, the side rims of the scroll would light up. But how... Of course, it's animus touched she thought; anyone would be anle to figure that out. But by whom?

Whitedust hadn't remembered where this thing had come from. In fact, she hadn't even remembered ever being able to read minds, or use animus magic until it arrived. What kind of an IceWing, or SandWing at that matter could read minds? Not any one dragon of their species could do-

Whitedust paused for a moment, and began to convey her thoughts. What could have happened to her? She wasn't born with these abilities. And frankly, she didn't like them. They were beginning to freak her out. Why can't I just be like other dragons? She thought, Normal dragons. Being a hybrid is one difficulty to live with, but I don't want all this animus magic and mind reading stuff. I just want to be a normal dragon.

She thought for a moment. Dragons don't just gain magic powers overnight. So someone must have.... Enchanted her. She wondered if that was true or just a bizarre thought coming from the back of her head. But if it was true, the real question was: who did it?

Whitedust wondered what that past dream represented a few nights ago. She wondered who that was. Was that Scroll? Or was that the dragon who enchanted her to live a hell of a life? Or was it... Both?

Whitedust's spine shivered all the way down just thinking of that. She didn't want to think of that. Maybe it was wrong to talk to a mysterious dragon on the other end of the scroll without even knowing his name. Or worse, maybe it was wrong to have a crush on a dragon she'd never met before.

Whitedust shook her head. She didn't want to think of any more of this. As she sat on her bed, she began clawing at the edge of it, scraping some sand off the side, making the dusts tumble to the floor. She couldn't just sit there all day; she had to get up and do something.

Maybe begin writing that story I told Mom and Dad about... She thought. Yes, of course, the story to cover up the lies she didn't want to tell.

Whitedust shook her head again. Don't think of that.

She turned around to her left to look out the window. It was hot outside of course, but Whitedust could withstand it. She looked at the sky and it seemed about midday. Which meant her dad was probably out talking to the queen or wanting to find use of his strength somewhere now that the war was over. Whitedust had no clue as to where her mother might be though. She could be sleeping, or waiting downstairs for her, or anything.