Let The Chaos Continue

Stolen Son

It was him.

Sirocco knew it instantly. There was no doubt about it. The orphanage had given him a name and a basic description of his son, but seeing that dragonet now, Sirocco knew he wouldn't have even needed a description. The pale yellow scales, dotted with dark freckles. The way he held himself, the face that glanced back at him, looking confused yet curious-

It was so similar to the face Sirocco saw in the mirror each morning that he did a double take. 

There were differences, of course. More freckles than Sirocco had, and eyes a light grey rather than black. Those traits obviously came from Simmer. 

Sirocco knew he would've found him one day. He would've searched every inch of Pyrrhia to find him. He just hadn't expected his son to randomly appear in a crowded marketplace in Possibility. He fought the urge to shout at the dragonet from across the marketplace. 

Thistle. That was the name the orphanage had given him. It could've been better, in Sirocco's opinion, but the orphanage just cycled through a list. Thistle, Thistle, Thistle. The small little dragonet before his eyes. That was what Simmer had died for, what she had begged for him to be robbed of. For a dragonet lacking a home and family, he looked surprisingly well.

But then a Mudwing nudged him with her wing, and the Seawing beside her laughed, and it clicked in Sirocco's mind. The Mudwing the vendor had spotted had taken him. Given him a home, judging by the way Thistle smiled at her.

She had stolen him. 

The thought made Sirocco want to tear something apart with rage, but he knew that he couldn't. He'd just have to keep an eye on the Mudwing and Thistle. Find out where they were staying, sneak in, and take his son back. Back to Vulture and the Talons of Power, so that he could finally prove to Vulture that he wasn't a failure. He had a son, and he was capable of molding him into the perfect leader. He'd take after what Prickle had done with Drought. That had worked out well until Coal's daughter had messed everything up. That had been the Sting's ultimate fault. They were always too obsessed with revenge and taking back what was theirs or what they thought was equal to it. They'd been that way since Ferla died, and it had stayed that way until Drought burnt it all down.

But where the Sting failed, the Talons of Power would succeed. Sirocco was confident in that. And he was confident in his son. He stepped closer to the stall, getting a better view. Another Mudwing and a Nightwing ran the stall, the Nightwing looking vaguely familiar.

Once another Sandwing approached, Sirocco realized why.

Coal.

Freaking Coal.

Of COURSE Coal had to know the dragons that had taken his son. Of COURSE he did, because Coal was the source of all his problems and Coal couldn't keep his fat snout out of other dragon's business. Sirocco growled slightly. that would complicate matters. If Coal was close to the Mudwing that had his son, then he would protect them, or put the whole Sandwing Army on the task of finding Thistle if he kidnapped him.

That was irritating. 

Sirocco considered the notion of just killing Coal before anything else. That would distract everyone else while he took Thistle, and then no one would be left to put two and two together. Yes, that was a good idea.

But his daughter would know, a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Vulture's reminded him. She'd put it together, and so would his wife. Coal was street smart, but his wife was a genius. He'd never get away with his murder. But he had to get Thistle back somehow.

And somehow, Sirocco knew as he began planning in his head, he would.