New Flames

Chapter 2

"Your majesty, we are so honored to receive you in our humble building."

The voice of the dragon greeting them was high-pitched and melodious. Flame sneered quietly, as he imagined himself talking like that. However, the pale orange and brown SkyWing didn't hear him, too busy bowing at his queen's feet to notice.

"Thank you, Buzzard. It's my pleasure to be here." Ruby smiled at the dragon, and he allowed himself to smile back, before meeting Flame's searing glare. He saw Buzzard's face twitch and huffed internally.

"Get used to that. That's what they'll all do when they see your stupid scarred face."

He took the chance to inspect the SkyWing in front of him more closely. He was old, taller and broader than Ruby, and with a white sash around his bust, marked with a golden leaf. By the way, he held himself, Flame guessed he was the leader here.

"And nice to meet you too," he said, finally smiling at Flame, "you must be Flame. I'm Healing Chief Buzzard, but you may just call me Chief." He extended his wing, but Flame blinked bashfully, refusing the offer.

Ruby looked at him before nodding and looking back at Flame. "I'll be back in a week's time to accompany you to the trial. Just, please, try to listen to them. They all want your best, Flame... and so do I."

In the way she said it, Flame's sharp thoughts towards her couldn't help but falter. She meant it. His Queen cared about him. But that just left a more bitter taste in his mouth. Why would he need help if she already believed in him so much? What was even wrong with him to begin with?

"Farewell Flame. Buzzard, take care of him, I'm counting on you." She said, and with one last thoughtful smile, she left the building, the guards around her, and everyone's eyes following suit.

Buzzard broke the silence with an awkward cough. Flame looked at him, with a "now what?" expression stamped across his face.

"Let me show you around, alright? After this, I'll leave you sometime in your cave, though I will send a nurse to check up on you. Just routine stuff, to make sure we're not hurting you in any way - it's a routine checkup." He said and began trotting towards the broad corridors of the structure.

He sighed. "Well, this is how low you've fallen, Flame. This is exactly what the NightWings said you'd be without them and their glorious prophecies. Miserable."

Flame had to listen to an hour-long tour of the hospital, in which Buzzard showed him every single storage and explained the use of each patient room. He basically didn't listen to any of it, instead tuning his ears for interesting conversations and looking around for any peculiar dragons. He noticed a few RainWings treating patients, and remembered that they were, supposedly, the best healers out of all the tribes.

Something about the structure did catch his eyes though. In the central courtyard, backed against the wall opposite where they had entered, was a huge and old-looking golden and bronze statue of a crowned dragon carrying another wounded SkyWing, with a worried but resolute expression on their face. He wondered if that statue represented anything, or if it was just for decoration's sake. If he still cared about it later, he'd remember to ask.

They quickly walked past it, and soon after Buzzard accompanied Flame outside through one of the back exits, and downwards through some wooden stairs, toward the lower levels of the mountain. They walked along an open walkway that looked over the mountain edge, with a railing that prevented dragons from accidentally falling over. There, he saw a few curtained tunnel entrances connecting to the open-air walkway and guessed those were the staff living quarters.

The tunnel they entered was the last one of the level, and was small, connecting only six caverns, each with a red and white curtain separating them from the connecting tunnel. He would be sharing a living space with only six, or perhaps fewer dragons. Maybe this place would have been tolerable until he left of course. He could just never leave his cave. Why not. He could sulk quite well after all.

There was a small waterfall at the end of the tunnel, connecting to one of the caverns. He wondered what kind of SkyWing would ever like to sleep in a mostly flooded room. Definitely not him.

"Here. This will be your room. This is the dragonets' quarter, so you'll be living here with one, two, three," he counted, "I believe another four dragonets," he concluded with a smile.

"Moons, no. Please no. Don't lock me here with another set of Squids, Ochres, and Fatespeakers. Please don't do this to me, not this." He thought, swearing internally.

Flame was quick to pitch in, "but technically I'm not a dragonet anymore. I'm more than 7 years old. Couldn't I just sleep in an adult's cave?" He asked in a dark tone.

"Well yes, technically that's true. However no dragonet here is actually technically a dragonet, they're just significantly younger than the other staff members," Buzzard said, and Flame caught a proud twinge in his voice for proving him wrong in some way, which he very much didn't like.

He would have retorted to the statement if another voice hadn't pitched in from behind one of the curtained caves.

"That really isn't saying much compared to your age, dad."

The dragon who owned that voice soon appeared behind the red curtain, in all of her incredible beauty.

Flame had to admit it, this SkyWing was beautiful. Her red-orange scales looked like live flames and were complemented by a brighter yellow underbelly. Her eyes were also yellow, but her overscales were a darker auburn that looked like rust. The wings were peculiar too: tipped with orange that became yellow the more you moved inwards, and with perfect, long triangles drawn on them. However, for a dragon that looked around his age, she was quite small and significantly angular.

"Oh, good morning to you too, Ardor," Buzzard said, smiling at his daughter as she embraced him, "glad to see you're in a good mood."

Flame felt a pang of pain at seeing them hug. That pain mostly came from him missing his mother... and the fact that she probably didn't even miss him.

After a few moments and some quick words exchanged between the two, Buzzard moved away from her, and towards the entrance once again. But when Flame started to follow him, Buzzard shook his head.

"Your tour of the building is finished," he said with a small laugh, "and I have work to get back to. But you can stay here and rest a bit before lunch. Perhaps make friends with Ardor. She's quite the wonderful dragon once you get to know her." He smiled at his daughter once more, and then took off in a hurry.

Flame wanted to roar. He wanted to sink his claws into Buzzard's neck. He wanted to set fire to the curtains of the cave.

He hated how much love Buzzard had towards his own daughter. He hated how beautiful and perfect she looked. He hated that he had neither of those things.

Who was he kidding? He knew what he probably hated more than all of this, and what he was probably about to engage in.

Small talk.