Wings of Fire: Revolution (Part One)
Written by Gjallarhorn-IceWing
Universe is made and owned by Tui T. Sutherland
The climb was up Nordic Peak was excruciating.
Kamchatka was absolutely freezing! How could anyone but an IceWing survive this mountain climb? How some of the great generals got their strategies was beyond her. But this was the best she could do.
This.. This risk is worth taking.. For my husband, she thought solemnly.
She wrapped herself tighter in the forest green cloak she was wearing, and trekked on. Argent snowflakes hitting her cyan scales in rapid succession. Its freezing touch feeling just like the cold grasp of death.
Kamchatka's talons ached with each passing step, the freezing snow didn't help either, it made her talons feel like she was walking on air, no feeling beneath.them. And with each inclining step, her
An ember glow had hit her peripheral vision. She looked off to where this glow had come from.
She had found it! The Wolf Temple! It was just as how she had envisioned it!
Well. Not exactly how she envisioned it. But close enough.
A large metal looking door stood. With marble columns on either side to hold up the roof, with the fiery orange glow of the torches. The door had a large metallic wolf's head protruding from it, she assumed it would split in two when the door opened, the mouth and eyes on the inside were lit ablaze. Kamchatka wasn't sure of the symbolism behind it. But it sure as hell meant something to the IceWing of gold.
She stood at the door, shivering profusely. And knocked.
There was a prolonged pause. She knocked again.
"Oh moons.. don't tell me he's not home," she thought aloud. She would have been ticked to hear that this IceWing was absent. In the Insurrection, going AWOL is a punishable offense.
Then Kamchatka heard a growl. Could it be a dragon? No. It couldn't. It sounded more.. dog like.
She whipped around, there stood an IceWing, with wolves standing right beside him. The IceWing had a large staff in the ground. Like it's a walking stick. With wooden brown clothing wrapped around him. "Are you looking for someone?" The IceWing inquired. His white scales made him seem hidden in the blizzard on Nordic Peak. But there was yellow streaks along his scales.
No.. not yellow. Gold.
The legend of an IceWing of gold were true. But the legends did say that he was completely golden.
"Y-yes. I am," Kamchatka said. "You must be the IceWing of Gold."
"Heh, I like that nickname. 'IceWing of Gold.' The names dragons come up with today." The stranger said, grinning, "so what's the problem? Why have you come?" He asked.
"My.. My husband. He.. I think he's gone insane with power," Kamchatka replied hesitantly.
"Hmmm.. Come inside, we can discuss in further detail," the IceWing mused. He pulled open the temple door. And politely gestured inside.
Within the temple walls, large shelves filled to the brim with scrolls stood on opposite sides, wolf statues also standing on opposite ends.
Is this IceWing a librarian? Kamchatka thought, glancing left and right at the hundreds of scrolls that lay on the shelves.
Wait. What was his name? She hadn't thought to ask him!
"So.. um. Sir? What's your name?" Kamchatka asked, feeling a rush of heat hit her scales. It was the heat she had been longing for since she began to scale that dreadful mountain.
"You can call me Gjallarhorn," he said, looking back at Kamchatka, "what might yours be?"
"It's Kamchatka," she said, taking off the wrap she had been wearing to warm her.
"Ah, the Russian peninsula. I'm surprised no other SeaWings had thought to name their offspring that, it's a beautiful place so I hear," Gjallarhorn said.
"Umm. Thanks.. I guess," Kamchatka replied, smiling at him awkwardly.
They continued through the large temple, after a minute or so of walking, they had reached a door at the end of the hallway. The IceWing opened it and held it open.
"After you," he said politely, gesturing inside.
Kamchatka entered a large room, a fireplace burned brightly and warmly.
"Come, sit," Gjallarhorn said, holding out a bowl with rising steam, "soup? I'd figure you'd like something warm after a climb like that."
"Oh yes please," Kamchatka accepted the bowl of soup and sipped out of it.
"So, to business. You say your husband is going mad with power? In what way? Animus powers?" Gjallarhorn asked.
"W-well, the power I speak of isn't really a magical power, per sé," Kamchatka replied, "it's more.. Tyrannical reign. And it's not even that, really. He was appointed as the leader of an Insurrection, on a far off island, fairly far off the continent. The island's name is Abaddon, it's fairly well known for its active volcanoes, which is how it got its name, because Abaddon also means 'destruction' and..." Kamchatka rambled on.
"Right.." Kamchatka cleared her throat and continued, "my husband, a SeaWing named Polyphemus, was appointed the leader of an insurrection on Abaddon. And he's obsessed with trying to overthrow the island's Emperor, a SkyWing named Valkyrie. I've met Valkyrie, and I'm not even that sure he's such a bad dragon, but Poly's years spent in the rebellion had convinced him otherwise. And he's taken unnecessary risks to try to bring this empire down. And.." She began to choke up, "I've been really worried about him. I fear h-he may spiral downward into insanity."
Gjallarhorn stood up, and wrapped both his talons and wings around Kam. She wept quietly as tears streamed onto Gjallarhorn's shoulder. "Everything will be okay.. Tell me how everything started, from the beginning.. That way you can get all of this off your chest."
"Alright.." She replied, taking a deep breath, and pulling away from him.
"Now, where do I begin?"
Chapter 1: Polyphemus
"Oh three moons it is HOT IN HERE!" A NightWing exclaimed.
Columns of lava shot up into the air on either side of the igneous rock bridge, years ago, this volcano was rich with ores of many kinds, nowadays, it's a quote unquote abandoned mine. A possible hazard around each corner. Now controlled by the monarchy.
"Pfft, you're such a wuss! And you're a NightWing, on Pyrrhia, I hear they live right next to a volcano. I'm sure being inside of one isn't any different," a SandWing replied.
A SeaWing, a mixture of cerulean and black, looked back toward the two dragons, "Waningstar, Obelisk, shut it. We're here to reconnoiter for a possible take back of the mine. And it'd make things a bit more difficult if the legionaries and centurions heard a couple of rebel dragons rambling about the current conditions they're in," he said, turning back.
"Rook- erm.. Polyphemus, come on! This 'rambling' you speak of makes this stake out more fun!" Obelisk complained. Polyphemus whipped back around and stared at her directly into her obsidian black eyes, "if we continue to be any louder, these imperials may hear us, and we'd be dead before we know it.. So stay quiet. Capiche?"
"Hmph," she exhaled, "fine, just this once, but I won't take any further orders from a private, a phalanx no less."
"Keeeeep telling yourself that," Polyphemus retorted, looking back. The heat of the volcano felt like it was burning his scales, especially when a column of lava shot up so suddenly. His talons burned hotter than his scales, standing on an igneous rock bridge, how the miners got any work done without suffering from a heat stroke was beyond his comprehension. But somehow they prospered until the volcano last erupted.
"Valkyrie, you've been silent for such a nervous wreck of a SkyWing," Polyphemus called back, a young lava orange SkyWing turned his head, "hm? O-oh, yeah.. Heheh, I s..s-suppose I have, haven't I?"
"Why if I may ask?"
"I'm just admiring the true beauty of Abaddon," Valkyrie replied, "for such a harsh environment; the volcanoes are quite beautiful really," the SkyWing was definitely right. For a dangerous place, it was unfathomably beautiful, especially at night, the lave glowed a nice orange, luminating the inside, occasionally, columns of lava would shoot up, to some, it would feel like you were set on fire, to the rest, it would be a nice, welcoming, basking heat, that you feel if you sit by the fireplace on a cold evening. The smoke was nearly absent entirely, so if you look up, you'd see a star filled night sky. Polyphemus' father had told him that one star is one possibility, and there are endless stars out there, meaning that there are endless possibilities. Endless things to be discovered.
"Well. I'd stop sight seeing for a little bit," Polyphemus said, no matter how pretty the volcano was, "we've got work to do."
"Erm.. Have you found any soldiers yet?" Waningstar asked.
"No, no I haven- wait," Polyphemus looked closer through the spyglass. He saw something, something any great commander wouldn't want to see, "Obelisk? I'd come look at this," he said, the SandWing sergeant took his spyglass and looked through it.
"Ah hell.." she cursed, a large number of legionaries had massed at the large entrance, like they were about to march onto battle, "this leaves one final option."
"What might that be?" Polyphemus asked.
"We move to plan B. We scuttle this abandoned mine."