CherryBaby

Deep pink-and-red petals drifted lazily in no apparent pattern or rush, dazing towards the earth in an imperfect circle around the tallest tree for miles. It arose on a tall hill, overlooking a lush forest, the wind was the only sound other than the occasional call of a sparrow or some other lonesome bird. All over the continent, dragons and monsters battled, bled, and died. And yet the tree sat in peaceful silence...shedding the petals of it's flowers one by one.

A sudden whoosh of wings disturbed the silence as a dragon of pinks and blues landed, bleeding, at the trees roots. When she opened her eyes, they were pale like the light of the sun, and filled with immense pain. She drew a claw away from her iridescent flank to find her claws bathed in her own blood, she spoke not a word as she frantically ripped a bright binding from her own tail and stuffed it into the wound desperately. With her other claw she ripped off a blue battle helmet and took a deep gasping breath, still she said nothing. Her eyes searched the sky desperately, and her ears perked up, diligently searching for any sign of other dragons. She opened her satchel with a flourish and rooted around inside, as if content, she closed and secured it once more. Her head flopped feebly onto the ground, her Sylvan jewelry twinkling almost mockingly.

And still the petals fell.

She took another deep breath, she let go of the cloth she had been pressing desperately against her side and let her talon drift slowly to her stomach, which seemed abnormally large. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and whispered almost silently to herself.

"Lightweaver, you forsook me long ago...this dragonet, who would be born with flaming eyes, is not yours. But...but please remember my years of servitude to thee, and save the one dragon I will ever care about. Let him live, if I must die." Her words trailed off into a wheezing cough and she shuddered on the ground, petals covering more and more of her by the second. It seemed as if her words had reached deaf ears, and no help would come to the dying dragoness. As the last bits of life faded from her body, her claw fell from where it rested on her stomach, and her eyes stared into blank space.

Only then, did a faint glow begin to emerge from the twisted dark wood of the cherry tree. With grace, the Lightweaver herself stepped from the tree, wrapping her claws around the body of her fallen daughter. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she looked across the peaceful lands, she could see the war, even if it was weeks of travel away. She placed the dragoness' body on the earth once more, sweeping petals off of her as they landed.

"Meredith, you began your life in my lands, it is only fitting you have ended it as such. I will bring your dragonet to life, he will be the base of innocence, forever a dragonet. I use my power to give him life."

A bright flash of light wiped away the events of the past few minutes, the Lightweaver and her child were gone, no splashes of blood marked any one place where she had lay, and no footprints of either dragons could be seen. There was only the wind, only the sun, and only the cherry tree, leaves still falling in slow motion, the scene only disrupted by the noises of animals in the forest beyond, none dared approach the lone tree where they would be exposed.

From the silence, a soft rustling announced the arising of a small red dragonet, the pattern of the petals that buried him plastered to his scales. Deep fiery eyes scanned his surroundings, small berry colored wings flapping aimlessly. He blinked a few times, before his claws instinctively began a desperate search for something. Claws brushed cloth and he grabbed violently at it, drawing the material to his chest. It was a satchel. He rushed to open it and from it's depths he pulled an iridescent round sphere, it glinted meaningfully in the now-afternoon sun. The small dragon discarded the satchel, clutching the giant pearl in his small claws, using all four claws to hold on to it and wrapping his wings protectively around the sides.

He didn't know why, but he began to cry as he clutched the unknown round object, thick misty tears rolled down his stomach, staining his underbelly a pale white, not unlike the pearl itself. The small dragon, who had no memory of anything, mourned silently for something he did not understand.

And still the petals fell.