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Right from the start, I was a sort of outcast. Son of the evil king of the Darkwings; A prince. Yet, I chose not to be like my father; I was the only Darkwing born with a sense of real morality.
“Come, young prince,” Dracos said to me as soon as I came out of my egg, “Come to your father.” He beckoned to me, then looked back at my mother (Draacos was positive that’s who it was), not chained up, and looked at me.
“What’s wrong with it?” Dracos growled to her, to which she stepped back, lowering her head.
“I-I don't know, your majesty,” She stuttered. Even though I was just born, I could sense that father wasn’t being a good dragon. Somehow I knew about what was right and wrong...something I still can’t figure out how I was born with.
“Why isn’t it obeying me like all the others!?” Dracos roared at mother. I didn’t want him to hurt her, but I was so tiny...way too young to do anything. I didn’t even know about my magic at the time. Father slashed his claws across her face, leaving a big bloody scar on her snout, making her nearly scream in pain. She was crying...and I wanted to as well. I don’t know if father killed her; he led her out of the room, but I never heard any screams or anything, so either she was executed away from me, or just forbidden to see me. After a while, father came back into the room, and put a talon under my snout. I was shaking at the thought of this evil creature being my only guardian that I would ever have.
“Don’t be scared, Draacos,” Father started, trying to be as tender-voiced as possible, “We can still make this work...I hope. If not, you’re all I have, so neither of us have much of a choice for you to rule once I die.”
If I wasn’t so weak, I would have stabbed him right in the eyes; would kill him right there.
I couldn’t though, and I’m glad I couldn’t. It would have broken the future. The Darkwings would mostly revolt against me right at the start for my ‘good morales’. They would just run off without a leader and kill everyone; succeeding in their goal, even without my Father.
2 years later
I yawned as I woke up. Another day of that damned tyrant trying to force me into his ways. It’s been like that for so long, and at this point, it’s just tiring. Nothing Father has tried, even magic, has been able to force my allegiance to him. I wasn’t going to be evil...never.
“DRAACOS!” Father yelled impatiently, and I walked to the small, dimly lit room that father had made as a sort of classroom. To me it was small, but really it was just big enough for me, Father, and the four other darkwing/meteorwing hybrids in the room. They chose to follow Dracos; to be evil. Father whacked me on the head with a big stick, and everyone chuckled. Father frowned at me, then went to the front of the room.
“Now, to start off, do you all remember where to bite a dragon to speed up the corruption process?” He asked to the dragonets. They all raised their claws, except for Draacos.
“Yes, Scorn?”
“In the heart! Get the evil into them asap!” A female, Scorn, answered confidently.
“Nope,” Dracos said, shaking his head, “If you do that, they will die from either piercing their heart, or the venom will kill them instead.” Scorn pouted and muttered something to herself. “Calamity?” Father said to a tall male dragonet.
“The brain. The venom will affect their senses quickly, and speed up the process.” Dracos smiled. “That is correct, Calamity. The venom will not destroy their brain, but infect it so that they can live long enough to turn evil.”
Dracos tossed something to Calamity, which he caught in his mouth. Dracos fed the dragonets when they got something right...what they fed them though...I don’t want to say.
There were four other hybrids in the room, two male and two female. Calamity: the smart guy of all of us. He got nearly every question right; the ones he got wrong were the ones that Father never told us the answers to. Then there’s Scorn. She’s not the brightest, but is still good at being evil, and possibly the most loyal. Then there was Bloodlust: the closest you could get to the king himself. He always used the most brutal ways of killing, and was quite addicted to it, hence the name. Lastly, Oblivion. She was the quiet one; only rarely answering anything. Father didn’t pay too much attention to her because of it. I couldn’t tell whether she might be like me or not. Even when I try to talk to her, she walks away.
Sadly, however, I got my confirmation a few days later. Oblivion’s eyes were bloodshot; her mouth dripping blood and smiling insanely. She had murdered one of the Darkwings (I didn’t know it’s name). Father had seen it and smiled, complimenting her. I wanted to hide in his room; to try to wish away everything bad about the world he lived in. I had to get out somehow, but at the time, it was impossible to do so.
And it wouldn’t be for a long time.
Another year later
I had met this strange dragon; one that Father had captured since the seal on the tower broke. There were a few new darkwings, which were former friends of the strange dragon. He was dripping in massive amounts of blood, but no wounds, and struggling against his bindings. Father caught my stares.
“Draacos, this is a great day for our kind,” he said. I just tilted my head, confused. He smirked at me. “This shall be our secret weapon! His name is Daggerlight, and he is a...special case. He’s been injected with a syrem, courtesy of the skywings. It happened a long time ago, however, but we have him, and we will finally be able to conquer Pyrrhia!”
I went wide eyed, and looked at Daggerlight. A secret weapon? I thought to myself. Daggerlight’s blood was starting to cut through the chains like acid. The guards hit him with spears, which also melted. Father sighed and rolled his eyes, putting a spell on the dragon to make him fall asleep. The blood washed itself away to reveal a nightwing: Dark purple with lavender horns and underbelly. It was just a form of some sort. So not a truly evil dragon.
“Looks like we have to take special precautions after all,” Father said, grinning, and bit down onto the dragon’s head, waking him as he roared in pain, then quickly passed out.
Daggerlight had been put in a cell, way down in the basement floor. I had to rescue the poor dragon before the venom got to him. I looked at the capsule in my claw as I walked down to the dungeon. One cure , I thought, It will stop the venom, or, at least dull it enough to help him.
I had gotten to the cell, where Daggerlight was shaking; his scales nearly all pich black like the rest of the Darkwings.
“H-here,” I stammered, and he looked at me, “It should help...It’s a cure.” I tossed him the capsule and he immediately swallowed it as fast as he could. He shook his head, and his scales started to fade to purple. I spit fire on the lock and opened the cell.
“Why are you helping me?” Daggerlight asked me. I said the obvious, “Because I’m not like them. I want to leave this place. I can get you out, but...I have to stay.”
Daggerlight nodded, and I led him up through the tower.
Nobody saw either of us, thank the moons, and I successfully got him out.
He said goodbye to me, and I did the same to him.
“I’m coming back for you, you know,” He said to me, smiling.
“It’s ok, Dagger. I’ll get out one day...just, please, find a way to stop the king.”
He gave me a confident look before he flew off. Dagger had started his journey, thanks to me. If I wasn’t there to help him, it would cause the Darkwings to win.
Only a year later, Dagger had beat them. The Darkwings had fallen, and the tower fell underground. The tower had been enchanted so that no Darkwings could ever leave. Even Father couldn’t break it. Us hybrids were exceptions, of course, and I eventually had the courage to leave. And I’m glad I did. I met Dagex and his friends, and the new prophecy had begun.
It’s time for a new story to begin, and all of us are going to finish it.