Ashes

Ashes was born a tundra on an auspicious day. Drab. Grey. Completely and utterly unremarkable. He was nearly forgotten in the hubub that had overtaken the clan. Pix, the founder of the clan announced her retirement, suddenly and to the shock of everyone, not the least her former mate and partner, Chocolate.

Why?

Why would she step down. She would merely tilt her head, flatten her head fins and stare, when people asked. Under the cold unblinking gaze of the helmet dragons would suddenly become uncomfortable.

The rumors spread. Pix had always been...a little flighty. But...something changed. And then she was gone, away from the lair. Chocolate was the only one to rush after her.

The clan was in ruins, Mother thought, and named him Ashes. A drab little dragon in a dying clan. The last ember before a fire went out.

It wasn't a comfortable welcome to the world. He was a reminder. A reminder of the leader they'd just lost. The Battle for Spring hadn't been that long ago. The clan was still wounded. Hurting. This was the last straw.

Ashes didn't much like the clan. Once he could leave the lair he was never there. The clan lived on the edge of the Hewn City and the Radiant Beacon, with miles of caverns stretching beneath the ruins. Those became his home.

He loved to explore, to scamper about where he couldn't feel the others eyes on him. There were plenty of little bits and pieces left behind in forgotten places. A tablet here, a rusty chest there. He'd always take the scavenging jobs, they kept him busy, and away. If he brought back useful things, then at least the cold stares warmed a little bit.

One day he found a chest deep deep in the caverns . He set down the lamp and sat back on his coal grey haunches, shaking the dust from his mane as he considered the locks. He'd become something of an expert at cracking doors and rusty chests. But this one...it seemed to shimmer in the weak light of the lantern. It didn't seem damaged by the passage of time either.

Carefully he touched it the wood with a thick paw, intending to test the strength and thickness with quick wrap of his nails...

And he blacked out, hitting the ground with a thud.

"Oh dear...you probably shouldn't have done that..."

The tiny voice seemed to hover on the edges of the darkness.Ashes tried to raise his head but...something felt...

Off...

He was...warm. There was a heat in his chest. One that hadn't been there before.

"Oh good. At least you don't seem to be dead." Putting aside the warmth--it didn't seem to hurt. Really just like when his winter coat had just come in, before the temperatures had dropped enough to make it comfortable.--he tried to force his eyes open.

Something blurrry swam above him. A tiny brown figure, lit from beneath by a bright gold light. He...thought he'd seen them before. In old tattered half decayed tapestries.

"A sprite?"

...the words came out an odd trill. He blinked. Confused.

That didn't...sound right.

"Mmm, Slow, aren't you? Magical overload, I suppose. Understandable given you had your entire genome rewritten. "

He blinked again. He could head what it was saying, but nothing made sense.

The sprite let out a frustrated sigh and held up its tiny hands, a sheet of polished crystal forming between them.

Ashes took one look at the furless face staring back at him--and fainted again.