Gently, ever so gently, he lifted his mother’s wing off and slid out from under her slumbering embrace.
For a moment, her valley-deep snoring halted and he feared he had woken her. But soon enough, it started again, and he knew he’d escape from their cave unnoticed.
This new cave was much smaller than their last one. There was not even enough room for his parents to spread their wings fully! He could spread his, but that would not be the case for much longer. He was sure his wing-spurt was coming soon.
His tail tingled with anger when he thought about how they had been forced to move here, to this new cave and Skykin settlement. All because of boney little creatures that looked like walking sticks that his father could crush with a single stomp. Or a lightstrike! That would be much cooler, but his father only used those on special occasions. One such occasion could be if his father caught him leaving the cave to meet with his new friends to look for the talking flames...
Thankfully, he was not going to be caught. His father was at the war meeting now, along with the rest of the different tribe Chiefs who enjoyed talking about doing things but never actually doing them. He knew this was true because he had once bathed himself in one of the mud pools (which was actually very enjoyable), and then perched just outside the meeting cave to listen in on the war talk. It was difficult to understand most of what they said, but he was distinctly aware that they could never agree on anything. It was like the game he used to play as a hatchling, where he would chase his tail in circles. That was how they talked.
At least he and his friends were doing something.
He was not sure if they would find the talking flames, but if they did, he reasoned it was likely they could find the missing hatchlet.
That thought was very exciting and it propelled him forward as he leapt out of the cave and let the night’s brisk wind catch in his wings.
He rapidly descended towards the valley so as not to be seen by anyone in the many other caves that were chiseled into the cliffside.
Once his soaring body was nearly touching the rocky floor of the valley, he angled leftward, towards the forest where the talking flames could be found.
During the day, the bristled leaves of the huge trees were a light green that popped in the flat and drab valley. When the sun was high in the sky, the shady forest seemed the perfect place to take a break from lessons or training.
At night, the leaves were black, and vivid shadows loomed over the whole forest.
Almost immediately after settling in their new cave, his father had warned him to never enter the forest.
He followed his father’s warning, not because he was an obedient son (he was not), but because he did not like cramped spaces—like their new cave—and the forest also appeared to be very cramped.
However, soon after beginning his lessons and training with the rest of the hatchlets, he heard rumors about the forest, that strange creatures inhabited it, that if you entered, you could never come out. There did not seem any consistency in these rumors, and he only ever heard them from hatchlets, so even though they were interesting, he had disregarded them.
That was until a few nights ago, when a hatchlet went missing, and everyone in the settlement began to buzz with worry and confusion.
The adults called a meeting, and the whole settlement, including hatchlets and hatchlings, were forced to attend. At this meeting, the adults said they had discovered a trail leading away from the valley; it seemed the missing hatchlet was trying to return to its old cave. They said its parents would follow the trail and bring it back.
At the next training, all the hatchlets were talking about what had happened. Different theories were proposed, until two hatchlets came forward and said that they knew the adults were lying. According to them, the missing hatchlet had not left for home, it had gone to the forest to listen to the talking flames.
This was the first time he had heard about the flames. The two hatchlets claimed to have gone to the forest with the missing hatchlet and discovered a dark cave hidden in between two red hills. Inside the cave, a flame spoke to them and told a story. They had not liked the story, but the missing hatchlet enjoyed it, so it returned alone the next day to listen to another story. That was the night it disappeared.
It seemed very stupid to lie about a talking flame, so he believed their story. He found it much more likely the adults would lie in order to protect the hatchlets, and stop them from going into the forest.
After hearing all of this, he discussed the flames and the missing hatchlet with his friends, and they quickly decided that they should go together to the forest to investigate. They were the closest to adults and the most adept at using their spirit-cores, so it seemed to make sense.
Next to the forest, there was a massive brown boulder that looked like it had tumbled down from the cliffside where the caves were. Before he reached the boulder, he stopped the beat of his wings and ground his talons into the valley floor to slow down his landing.
As he rounded the boulder, Raincloud whispered in his usual nervous way: “Do you always have to be so loud?”
He tried to whisper back, but it came out only as a more breathy rendition of his regular voice. “My name is Sunbreaker, I can’t be quiet. My mother has told me that many times.”
Moonclaw laughed quietly to herself.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Oh, here we go again.” Raincloud took a more relaxed stance, resting against the boulder.
“What?! She’s always laughing at me! I just want to know why.”
“You always do something that makes me want to laugh. Try being more like Raincloud. We weren’t even friends ‘till you came along.” She spoke seriously, but he could tell by looking at her dark brown irises that she was still laughing—he just couldn’t hear it.
“That’s true,” Raincloud said. “You are our Chief.”
“Well, as the Chief, I order Moonclaw to stop laughing at me!”
“As you command, Chief!” The words thundered from her with such conviction it was as if one of the Chiefs was actually addressing her.
A chuckle slipped out from Raincloud, and before long he and Moonclaw were yelping with laughter.
He sighed, and walked towards the forest. “I’m going to find the talking flames. You can join me or go back to your caves and miss out on all the awesome glory I’m going to get from finding the missing hatchlet.”
Hurried steps approached.
“Do you think we’ll actually find the talking flames? Or the missing hatchlet?” Raincloud asked.
They passed the treeline and began to walk through the forest. The moon’s silver illumination was gone, overtaken by the shadows of giant trees.
He opened his spirit-core slightly, and a small spark exited. He imagined the spark was moving peacefully through his body, like the white fish that swam in the lake beside his old cave.
His yellow, translucent scales glowed golden, providing not near as much light as the moon, but enough for them to see the brush and trees surrounding them.
“If those three hatchlets could find the flames, why can’t we?” He said confidently.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
No one said anything in reply.
It was difficult to tell how far they had progressed through the forest. There was no path, and though they tried to walk straight ahead, occasionally a throng of giant trees or a thicket of sharp-leaf bushes would force them to veer off to the side.
Every time they reached one of these obstacles, he asked Moonclaw to make a mound in the dirt so that they would have a marker to follow back. She said a mound was not recognizable enough, and insisted on making a small half-moon each time.
When they finally reached the red hills, he began to worry whether he would make it back before his father.
The hill was very steep, and both he and Raincloud fought to keep from sliding down it. Moonclaw did not have the same problem. She formed a rocky armor around herself, then flattened her body against the hill and let it take her speeding away, straight to the opening of the cave where the talking flames were supposed to be.
He had to admit, it was very cool, and he wished his spirit-core allowed for him to build armor like that. But, he could throw a lightstrike, and that was still cooler.
They stopped at the mouth of the cave, attempting to peer through the darkness.
Raincloud backed away a few steps. “Do…do you think this is it?”
Both he and Moonclaw turned towards him with looks saying, “Yes, this cave hidden between two red hills is probably the cave hidden between two red hills that the two hatchlets described.”
He seemed to get the message and nodded meekly.
No one moved forward.
Moonclaw dug her claw into his foot.
“WHAT THE—”
“You should go in first, right, Chief?”
“I…well…right.”
He remembered his flying lessons. How he had refused to jump off the cliff’s edge. At one point his parents tried to push him forward, and he snapped his teeth into his father’s leg before running back to their cave.
After the biting incident, his mother wrapped her wing around him and said, “You only have to fly when you're ready. But if you don’t fly now, with us, your father is going to pick you up while you're sleeping at night and drop you off the cliff.”
He moved into the talking flame’s cave. Moonclaw, and then Raincloud, followed behind.
The light from the spark swimming in his body was swallowed up by the darkness, and they were left completely blind.
Raincloud nervously called out from the back. “Maybe we should grab onto each other. So…so we don’t get lost.”
Before he could even disagree, he felt a pair of claws grip tightly around his tail.
He began to notice a smell. It resembled how the ground would smell after his father performed a lightstrike.
As the smell grew more prominent, so did a grating sound that reminded him of a tree having its bark peeled off.
The claws clenched around his tail even tighter.
He started to shiver. Whether that was because it felt much colder in the cave, or because he was considering flying away as quickly as possible, he was not sure.
His wings unfurled slightly, adjusting to the new space they had.
“I think we’re in a bigger tunnel now.”
Moonclaw released her grip on his tail, and he heard her claws scrape over to his right.
“You're right. Your voice is louder t—”
A plume of flames erupted from the ground just ahead.
On instinct, his legs tensed and he leapt backwards with all his strength.
Moonclaw and Raincloud had the same instinct, and so they all slammed into each other before tumbling into a wall.
He contorted his way out of their pile of tails, wings, and limbs.
The yellow and red flames burned with such a ferocity that he knew they were alive. That, or they were clawing up from the ground, screaming to live once more.
“I HAVE A STORY TO TELL. WILL YOU LISTEN?”
The flames’ voice crackled through what he could now see was a huge cavern that had enough room for almost half the settlement to stretch their wings.
He glanced at his friends. They had yet to untangle themselves, and were staring at the flames with wide, fear-filled eyes.
He was scared to say no, but they had not come here for a story.
“Did…did a hatchlet with brown scales come here two nights ago?”
“I HAVE STORIES, NOT ANSWERS. THOUGH PERHAPS IF YOU LISTENED, YOU COULD HEAR BOTH.”
Moonclaw collected herself off the ground and spoke to the flames: “We would like to hear your story, talking flames.”
“What are you doing?! We're here for the missing hatchlet, not a story!”
“You idiot! If we want to find the hatchlet, we have to listen to the—”
“SILENCE!”
The flames flared even brighter, crimson tips reaching towards the cavern ceiling.
“COME CLOSE AND BE QUIET, HATCHLETS. I TELL STORIES ONLY ONCE.”
He begrudgingly moved closer to the flames, not paying attention to the glare Moonclaw was still giving him.
Raincloud finally got up, looking like he thought this was the worst mistake he had ever made, and sat with them. The story began.
“LONG BEFORE YOU HATCHLETS WERE BORN, LONG BEFORE YOUR PARENTS WERE BORN, THE SKYKINS LIVED TOGETHER, IN COMMUNITY. THERE WERE MANY COMMUNITIES, BUT THE LARGEST WAS IN THE ASH MOUNTAINS, WHERE EVERY TRIBE COULD BE FOUND: THOSE OF ROCK, LIGHT, WATER, AIR, AND FIRE. ON SPECIAL NIGHTS, WHEN THE MOON WAS IN SHADOW, EVEN THE STAR TRIBE WOULD COME AND GRANT THEIR GREAT WISDOM UPON THE COMMUNITY.
FOR THE SKYKINS, THIS WAS A TIME MARKED NOT BY CONSTANT WAR OR FEAR, BUT PEACE. BELOW THEM, THE LAND-BOUND CREATURES WERE TRAPPED IN AN INESCAPABLE DARKNESS. LIKE INSECTS, THEY SKITTERED ALONG THE GROUND, WITH NO ILL THOUGHT TOWARDS THE SKYKINS SO FAR ABOVE THEM.
HOWEVER, THERE WAS A CLEVER MAN AMONG THOSE INSECTS. A HUMAN. WHILE OTHERS SAW ONLY A NEED TO SURVIVE IN THE DARKNESS, HE LOOKED BEYOND, TO THE PLACE WHERE THE DARKNESS CAME FROM, TO WHO IT CAME FROM. HIS SEARCH BROUGHT HIM ACROSS BURNING AND FREEZING LANDS, AND EVENTUALLY, TO A DERELICT TEMPLE HIDDEN BENEATH THE WEIGHT OF TIME’S DESTRUCTION, WHERE HE FOUND SECRETS NOT MEANT TO BE FOUND.
IT TOOK TIME, NEARLY HALF A HUMAN LIFE, BUT FROM THE CARVINGS ON THE TEMPLE WALLS AND EXAMINATION OF THE RUINED ARCHITECTURE, HE LEARNED THE SOURCE OF THE DARKNESS, ITS MASTERS, AND OF MUCH GREATER CONSEQUENCE, HOW TO COMMUNE WITH THEM.
WITH HIS OWN BLOOD, HE WROTE THE COMMUNING RUNES ON THE TEMPLE’S FLOOR. ON ONE OF THOSE SPECIAL NIGHTS WHEN EVEN THE MOON DEPRIVES THE LAND OF ITS LIGHT, HE CLOSED HIS EYES, AND SPOKE THE RUNES.
THEY DESCENDED INTO THE TEMPLE QUIETER THAN A DEAD MAN’S WHISPER, YET, HE FELT HIS BONES TREMBLING FROM THEIR PRESENCE.
HE DID NOT OPEN HIS EYES NOR DID HE BARGAIN OR DEMAND GREAT POWER FROM THEM. HE SIMPLY WAITED, SAYING NOTHING.
THEY HAD NOT BEEN COMMUNED WITH FOR A VERY LONG TIME AND FOUND HIS REVERENCE IMPRESSIVE.
PERHAPS FOR THAT REASON, OR MORE LIKELY OTHER INSIDIOUS PLANS, THEY DID NOT STEAL HIS EYES AS THEY DID AT LONG PAST COMMUNIONS AND, INSTEAD, PLACED A GIFT IN HIS HANDS BEFORE THEY LEFT.
AFTER FEELING THEIR DEPARTURE, HE OPENED HIS EYES AND LOOKED AT THE STILL-WARM HEART IN HIS HANDS. IT WAS NOT THE HEART OF A HUMAN, OR ANY OTHER CREATURE THAT HE HAD EVER SEEN. THE BLOOD COATING IT WAS BLACK, THE SKIN OF THE SOFT ORGAN, A STARK WHITE.
HE BIT INTO THE CENTER OF THE HEART, GULPING DOWN THE TOUGH MUSCLE AND THIN VEINS.
HE WAS A CLEVER MAN, SO HE QUICKLY DISCOVERED THAT EATING THE HEART HAD GIVEN HIM A SPIRIT-CORE. IN TIME, HE LEARNED THAT HIS SPIRIT-CORE COULD TAKE DIFFERENT FORMS, THE FORMS OF OTHER CREATURES, AND THAT WHEN IT DID, HIS BODY TRANSFORMED INTO THE OTHER CREATURE.
AT FIRST, HE HAD DIFFICULTY CHANGING THE FORM OF HIS SPIRIT-CORE. HE COULD FEEL THAT SOMETHING WAS MISSING, BUT HE DID NOT KNOW WHAT IT COULD BE. FRUSTRATION AND RAGE BECAME HIS DAILY ACQUAINTANCES, AND HE KILLED ANY UNFORTUNATE CREATURE THAT DARED INTERRUPT HIS TRAINING. AS HE KILLED MORE AND MORE, A THOUGHT CAME TO HIM.
HE BEGAN TO EAT THOSE HE KILLED AND SOON AFTER REALIZED HIS REVELATION WAS RIGHT. EATING A CREATURE MADE IT FAR EASIER FOR HIM TO TAKE THE FORM OF ITS SPIRIT-CORE. FOR THE SMALL CREATURES, WITH SIMPLE SPIRIT-CORES, HE ONLY HAD TO EAT ONE OR TWO TO MASTER ITS FORM.
AS HE KILLED HIS WAY ACROSS THE LAND, HE FOUND THAT FOR THOSE SUCH AS THE NIVEN, THE NERODAE, OR THE ORMERS, IT TOOK CONSUMING TEN OR MORE TO MASTER THEIR FORM.
BUT HE DID MASTER THEM; EVERY LAND-BOUND CREATURE THAT HE DEEMED WORTHY, HE KILLED AND ATE.
DURING HIS TRAVELS, HE CAUGHT SIGHT OF MANY SKYKINS, AND HE KNEW THAT THEY WOULD BE HIS ULTIMATE PREY.
AFTER MASTERING THE LAND-BOUND CREATURES, HE WAITED AND WATCHED THE SKYKINS IN THE ASH MOUNTAINS, WHERE THEY FLEW, HOW FAR, THE WAY THEY LET THE WIND CATCH IN THEIR WINGS, HE TOOK ALL OF IT IN WITH A RAVENOUS HUNGER.
THERE WAS ONE SKYKIN FROM THE FIRE TRIBE THAT STRAYED THE FURTHEST FROM THE COMMUNITY, TO SLEEP BY A DEEP RIVER THAT CUT THROUGH THE VALLEYS BELOW THE PEAKS OF THE ASH.
BEFORE THE SKYKIN ARRIVED THAT NIGHT, HE TOOK THE FORM OF A NERODAE AND WAITED UNDER THE WATER OF THE RIVER, SO AS NOT TO BE SMELLED.
AFTER IT HAD BEEN SLEEPING PEACEFULLY FOR SOME TIME, HE PULLED OUT A CRYSTALLINE SWORD FROM HIS ARM, AND WITH ONE POWERFUL STROKE, LET LOOSE A WAVE OF RED ENERGY THAT SEVERED ITS HEAD.
THE NEXT DAY, WHEN THE SKYKIN OF THE FLAME TRIBE RETURNED TO THE COMMUNITY, IT WAS MORE ALOOF THAN IT HAD BEEN BEFORE. A FEW TOOK NOTICE OF THIS CHANGE, BUT NOTHING WAS SAID OF IT.
GRADUALLY, THE FLAME TRIBE SKYKIN’S COLD DEMEANOR MELTED AWAY, AND IT SEEMED TO BECOME MORE AMICABLE THAN BEFORE. FOR A LONG TIME, PEACE CONTINUED TO REIGN. ON OCCASION, SOME OF THE OLDER SKYKINS WOULD LEAVE THE COMMUNITY AND NEVER COME BACK. THIS WAS NOT A CAUSE FOR WORRY, AS IT WAS KNOWN THAT THE OLDER A SKYKIN GOT, THE MORE IT DESIRED SOLITUDE.
THEN, ON A PLEASANTLY WARM NIGHT, THE MASSACRE BEGAN.
THE COMMUNITY HAD TWO SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS. THOSE WITH NO ONE TO CALL SON OR FATHER OR MOTHER, SLEPT ON THE OPEN MOUNTAIN PEAKS. THE SKYKINS WITH A FAMILY SLEPT IN THEIR OWN CAVES.
THAT NIGHT, HE BATHED HIMSELF IN A MUD POOL AND WENT TO THE FAMILY CAVES IN HIS SKYKIN FORM. AS QUIETLY AS THEY HAD DESCENDED IN THE TEMPLE SO LONG AGO, HE STABBED A THIN ICICLE-SHAPED FLAME THROUGH THE PARENTS, AND THEN THE CHILDREN’S BRAINS, CAUSING NEAR INSTANT DEATH.
IN THAT PERFECT SILENCE, HE KILLED FIVE CAVES OF SKYKINS. AT THE SIXTH CAVE, A HATCHLET WAS STILL AWAKE, AND HEARD HIS APPROACH. IT SCREECHED UPON SEEING HIM, WAKING ITS PARENTS, AND A FIGHT ENSUED. THE MAN SWITCHED MASTERFULLY BETWEEN FORMS, USING THE SPEED OF A PYRE, AND THE DESTRUCTIVE POWER OF DIFFERENT SKYKINS TO WIN THE BATTLE DECISIVELY.
AFTER HIS VICTORY, HE ATTEMPTED TO FLEE THE CAVE, BUT WAS REDUCED TO ASH BY A TORRENT OF LIGHT AND FIRE FROM THE NEIGHBORING SKYKINS WHO HAD HEARD THE BATTLE TAKING PLACE.
WHEN THE MASSACRE WAS DISCOVERED THAT NIGHT AND THE SUBTERFUGE THROUGH WHICH IT WAS ACCOMPLISHED, THE SKYKINS CAME TO AN UNSPOKEN AGREEMENT AND FLED FROM THE COMMUNITY, SEARCHING FOR NEW, FAR-AWAY HOMES.
THAT IS WHY SKYKINS NOW LIVE AS SINGLE FAMILIES, SEPARATED FROM THE REST OF THEIR TRIBE.”
The three hatchlets felt a collective stomach-squeezing sickness as they all thought the same thing.
He found the courage to say it: “But…but we do live in a community now. And…we each have our own cave.”
“YES, THE BROWN-SCALED HATCHLET TOLD ME AS MUCH.”
For a moment, he got over the fear tormenting his insides, and shouted at the flames.
“WHAT?! SO YOU DID SEE HIM?”
“HE CAME ALONE, TWO NIGHTS AGO, AND I TOLD HIM THIS STORY. IT AFFECTED HIM SEVERELY. BEFORE HE LEFT, HE SPOKE ABOUT HOW HE HAD NOTICED STRANGE HAPPENINGS AT THE NEW COMMUNITY WHERE HE STAYED. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT FATE BEFELL HIM AFTER THIS.”
The words ‘strange happenings’ twisted around him like a creeping vine. Had he seen these ‘strange happenings’? Had any of the other Skykin been acting strange? He did not know. He did not know! He felt stupid and afraid and sorely wished his mother’s wing was wrapped around him.
Moonclaw grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the flames.
“We need to go warn the Chiefs!”
The three hatchlets ran out of the cave and took off into the air, flying above the forest and towards the settlement.
The dark cavern turned to pitch black as the plume of flames disappeared. Beyond the farthest cavern wall, in a small circular chamber with bright blue torches, a man pale as the moon returned to peeling off the scales of a brown hatchlet.
“Not even a thank you? Ungrateful little wretches. And you did such a magnificent job telling my story. It had a certain…umbra, that was far better than last time.”
The man appeared to be speaking to himself, as there was no one else in the chamber.
“Yes, yes, nearly done. We will be gone before any more visitors come.”
The pale man continued peeling, smiling at the crack of the scales when he tore them off, and the new splotches of blood that coated his hands after each removal.