Let The Chaos Continue

Sirocco

Sirocco was alone, and it was all Coal's fault. Somehow, it must be. It was always Coal's fault. Always had been, always would be. That was the one constant thing in the Scorpion Den, and if it for some reason wasn't Coal's fault, then it was obviously Qibli's.

Sirocco blamed those two for everything bad that had happened in his life. 

It was Coal's fault that the Sting had merged with his grandfather's gang, and that Rattlesnake and Drought died because of it. It was Qibli's fault that he'd been sold to Thorn, and how thought he was somehow above the dragons in the Den. He and Coal were both traitors, yes, but at least Coal knew better than to think he was any better than anyone that still lived in the gang.

It was their fault that nearly all of Sirocco's family was dead or in jail. Their fault that most of the gang had burned to death with the Sting when their headquarters burned.

Or, at least, Sirocco assumed they had all burned. He had returned to the burnt ruins of the building a few days after the fire, watching in the shadows, waiting to see if anyone showed.

Coal had, to his surprise, and another Sandwing had met him halfway across the ashes of the building. They hadn't spoken, or, at least, they hadn't said anything Sirocco could hear. It seemed more like a silent conversation. Two dragons just staring at each other, a single nod, and then they walked away from each other. The other Sandwing had looked familiar, but Sirocco couldn't place him. Probably just some random Sting member. But the Sting had burned, its followers trapped inside and killed after Drought had lit the place on fire. So if the Sting was dead, who was the other Sandwing?

Sirocco decided not to dwell on it. It was unimportant to him. His focus had been more on the fact that Coal had had the audacity to return to the headquarters, after all he had done to destroy them. 

But the main focus of Sirocco's anger right now lay on Simmer. Stupid, stupid Simmer. If she hadn't been dead already, Sirocco would've killed her himself for not telling him.

Simmer had been Sirocco's... well, they didn't really have a word for it. Girlfriend was too strong of a word, lover was too taboo. Vulture had just blatantly called her his whore, and slowly, Sirocco was starting to agree simply because he didn't know another word and Simmer was too dead to object. She had died in egg-laying, a common thing for weaker females like Simmer. The thing that made Sirocco furious was that she had forced the doctor to hide the egg beforehand, give him to some random family, leave him at an orphanage, somewhere, anywhere where Sirocco would never find him.

That's why Sirocco was mad. That dragonet, wherever he was, was his son. His. Rightfully, biologically his, and no one had any right to take care of him but Sirocco. And seeing as Vulture was getting old and had long ago deemed Sirocco too stupid to take over what remained of the Talons of Power, Sirocco needed his son more than ever. They needed the heir, and one that wouldn't disappoint them. Vulture had wanted so badly to hand over the leader role to Qibli, but Cobra was too big of an idiot for that. And then Drought had become a perfect candidate- young, strong, dedicated to the cause and little else. But then Coal's daughter had not only gotten under his scales, but she had stabbed him in the heart, quite literally, and he'd taken half the Talons of Power down with him. That was irritating. And with Coal's brothers and Rattlesnake dead, there was no other option.

Sirocco had thought that was a good thing originally. The competition had been wiped out for him, he was first in line. But Vulture had said, quite honestly, that he'd rather disband and have the whole gang arrested than have Sirocco ruin it with his stupidity. Not the best self esteem boost, that's for sure. 

So his son was his last hope. He had gotten as much information out of the doctor Simmer had given the egg to as he could, and now he was just following the path. The doctor had taken him the an orphanage, the orphanage had taken him in, hatched him, and kept him until he'd ran away. He'd become the stray dragonet roaming a marketplace, stealing to survive, until he'd vanished. One of the marketplace vendors said he thought he'd seen the dragonet get chased after by a Mudwing female, but he hadn't seen him since that day. No one knew who he was. No one knew who the Mudwing was. And no one knew where his son was now. The path had abruptly ended, but Sirocco wasn't giving up that easily.

He was going to get his son back, no matter who he had to shove out of the way to get to him.