Storm

"Thunder may rumble, lightning might shatter the sky. But in my heart, I will sing in the rain."

She, marked for exaltation, led a simple life. As a hatchling, she vowed to never be wracked with blustering depression, the way many others were, to the point where it came suicidal and an issue to the general welfare of the clan's sanity, when they had one's mind already affected. She in her younger days was playful, silly, not taking anything seriously and never seeing the enormity of what she was condemned to. Out of her siblings, she had always been her mother's favorite child. She had been the oldest and had often been used as a role model to her siblings. She wasn't so sure why her mother liked her so much; it was almost tangible in the very air she breathed, in the way she spoke in gentle tones, and more harsher voicing to her brothers. She didn't take much mind into it, however. She didn't feel as if she needed to concern herself with perhaps being born likeable, or something else.

Meanwhile, her father had been a dragon marked for exaltation. He had a remarkably serious personality, even when his dragonets acted their very best. He never cracked in his stone-like attitude, and hardly ever gave them compliments; he regarded them all through the same stern, indifferent eye, so unlike their mother. Her brothers always flocked to get the better of his attention, having given up on their mother long ago, as she so obviously liked her daughter more than the rest combined. They did ridiculous things to try to lap up as much admiration he could spare, and every gruff note of positivity was like a warm beacon in their hearts, holding them aloft, giving them energy.

She was at least glad she would go with her siblings and father, instead of alone. Even though exaltation was so undesirable, a bitter taste like acid in her mouth, she told herself to try to yearn for it, however difficult that may be. If, she told herself, she could not change the rules, then why not just change the way she looked at things? This concept went with her everywhere she went, brightening her and making her act positive even in the darkest of moments. She was always the one to cheer them up, to be naive and funny without even realizing it. When she grew older, her seriousness hardened a bit, but it would never get to the uncrackable point of her father. She learned things which became nightmares in her head, tales of war, of the practical type she only believed. Through that, however, her natural personality refused to act negative, and only lightened the more. She somehow took strength in her weaknesses, telling herself the same thing again and again: change the way you look at things. Adapt.

She knew there was another alternative, of course. At least it wasn't like the mystery of exaltation: simply it was that she would be locked up in the Icewarden's fortress for the eternity of her life.

She was a mere child when the exalting happened. It was a chilly day, the wind blowing in huge gusts across the pale blue sky, speckled with frosty white clouds. The sunlight broke through the thick gray cover, shining down onto the dappled snow. The water on the far away lake was frozen solid; it reminded her somewhat of her father.

"Mother," she begged quietly, her paws scrabbling across the stone, "please. I don't want to go to the Icewarden. I don't. I don't, want, to go." She paused, her chest heaving as the icy wind howled, her tongue dull. She knew her mother was loyal. She knew her mother would never offer her sympathy, even if she was the favorite.

Her mother shook her head. Her beautiful wings were folded back against her delicately patterned scales. A shimmer of slight regret shone in her sun-kissed eyes, but then it was gone, hardening again. She sighed softly. "I am deeply sorry, my love, that you feel this way," she murmured in her soft, whispery, murmur of a voice. "But it is for the best."

"For the best I must be sent away?" Storm cried out, her heart stinging, her eyes dry. Her ears were flattened aggressively against her head with anger and her claws were clicking warningly.

"For the best." Her mother met her gaze with one so cool, so peacefully golden, that a sob caught in Storm's throat, then disappeared. She felt herself shaking. She could not just accept that she would be exalted. She wanted to make a mark on the world. She wanted to have a purpose.

She slept terribly that night. She kept twisting or turning in her sleep, making little mumbles under her breath. Her eyes were closed tightly, squeezed shut so she wouldn't have to see her den again, so she wouldn't recall all the details and feel the weight on her shoulders once more.

Her eyes fluttered open in the morning, as the cold light shone into the cave. She shook out her wings, feeling them snap, and set one talon determinedly on the ground. Somehow, someway, she would fight her way out of this. She now knew what it meant, to change how you look at things if you can not change the situation itself. She had always looked at it like an impossibility. But now, she admitted, she could be stubborn, angry to the end. She could put up a fight, make a rebellion to these cruel, unfair doings. She did not care that she was changing the situation. Her mind completely skipped over this particular fact.

Her friend, Escanthea, bounded over to her as she exited the den. Escanthea was a Coatl, slender-built, with a long neck and graceful disposition. She made Storm feel peaceful-minded, like her mother, but in a better way, because she could fight. She could utter defiant declarations as easily as Storm could, and although she was marked as a permanent resident, they got along well.

"Have you heard?" she exclaimed excitedly, brushing her wings to Storm's. Her green eyes were bright and alert. "They've decided to try and save some dragons from being exalted. They've already saved Clara and Reeflyn."

So shocked was Storm she could do nothing but stare. Her heart quickened its pace erratically and she squeaked out, "Really?" So all her terrors and anger last night had been for nothing? A rush of relief stole through her burning veins, like a wash of warm water.

"Yes, really," smiled Escanthea. "We can be friends forever, now!"

Storm could do nothing but grin weakly at Escanthea, her eyes filling up with relieved tears, sliding down the end of her nose. She looked down at her talons, clutching the snowy ground. "I'm so..happy," she managed breathlessly at last, the words coming out somewhat hoarse.

"And I'm so, so happy for you." Escanthea beamed with pride, and satisfaction, and the same, dwelling relief, all of it showing up in her glowing eyes.

"What about my brothers? Where are they?" inquired Storm suddenly, upon the realization that her energetic siblings were nowhere to be found. They were known for waking up early, so they should be around her somewhere... A sudden thought struck her and her heart lodged in her throat.

"Are they..?" she whispered. She didn't need to look at her friend to know the answer: yes. Her brothers were gone. She would never see them ever, ever again, never meet their beaming grins.

"How come they saved only a couple of us, and not them?" Storm demanded. "Why..?"

Escanthea quivered slightly, her delicate frame disturbed. "They couldn't. Your brothers were one of the earliest to go. They only began the rescuing at about sun-up."

"So he's..really gone? With the exalt pillar, everything?"

"Yes," Escanthea confirmed in a low tone.

And though the day was very happy indeed, it struck a dull tone of sadness in Storm's selfless heart as well.

A day later, her mother approached her through slight steps, her usual confidence wobbling. Her eyes were downcast, her tail barely above the ground, her slender neck bent.

"What is it?" queried Storm frantically, all sorts of thoughts coming into her head, containing violence beyond her usual frame of mind.

"I need to tell you everything." Her mother stared straight into her eyes, and in it was a trace of defeat. "I have kept it from you for so long..the stories of exalting, all of it. You are old enough now to understand. Perhaps it would have done you some good to be told this earlier, but I cannot change the past." She shivered. "You don't know..it was just so difficult to try telling you when you were so happy, so carefree, so unburdened by the cruel things in the world.

"First, we will begin with my childhood. When I was a young dragonet, my parents always preferred my brothers over me. They thought I was weak because I was a female, they would never see what good things I could bring. I tried to please them, so many times. I brought them little gifts, on various occasions- you know, flowers and things. But they never noticed. It was like I was invisible on those times. Worse, however, they would physically abuse me." She met Storm's eyes boldly. "Do you know why I wear these pearls all the time?" She gestured to her chest. "It's to hide the bruises there, the deep ones I got after attempting to fight them. Afterward..I just gave up. I didn't believe I could win when they gave me so much pain. Pain can change anyone's mind, you know. Even the ones with the strongest wills.

"So I promised myself if I had hatchlings, I would always make sure the female was never judged. I was nice to you. Do you see now? Do you see what I have been trying to emphasize?"

"That's not..nice though," Storm murmured, not knowing what to say and feeling childish at her poor choice of words. "You neglected your sons when you were trying to make it up to me. That's not how the world works: you have to be equal."

"I did take care of them though, didn't I?" An angry look stole into Spirit's eyes clear eyes. "I never gave them bruises. I never wounded them. I never judged them for what gender they were."

"Still," Storm continued, "you could spare some sympathy." She felt like she was pleading with her mother now. Like she was losing hope that Spirit could ever regain her proper senses.

"I will never spare any sympathy," Spirit said fiercely. "You don't know what my parents did to me. It was horrific. It was...it was sick.

"And I didn't neglect my sons. I was nice to them, just not as much as the usual parent," she went on. "I don't know why you're like this. You should be glad you're my daughter, that you have my love." She leaned in, her breath fanning out against Storm's alert, sharp ear. "And now I need you to do something for me.

"We're going to take down the system of being born for exaltation, and all that. We're fighting for freedom for everyone. What I want you to do is gather a bunch of dragons, I don't care who. Take them, and go to the Icewarden's palace. The one in the legends. It works, it does. I have been there once, and he showed no regrets. He could have helped me. He could have breathed down some kind of wisdom, or help, whispered escape routs into my ear through the breeze. He did nothing. And now, I want you to kill him. I do not care how. Just do it. As revenge. He should be watching over all of us equally but he neglected me."

"But weren't you completely fine with me going to be exalted?" exclaimed Storm, astonished. She was at a loss for words to comprehend what had just happened. Her mother wanted her to kill the Icewarden. It was insane! It was illogical! It was absolutely impossible- he had magic in his veins like the rest of the dragons in the world. He was immortal.

"I knew you would be rescued. I didn't want you coming anywhere close to figuring out what I was concocting," explained Spirit, her eyes now glinting with malice.

"I won't," Storm found herself saying in a low growl. "You can't make me do this, just cause I'm your daughter."

"Yes, I-" Spirit broke off with a howl of sheer pain. It was filled with broken, raspy notes, tremors of terror and anger. Storm watched as Escanthea pinned her mother's claws to her side and wrapped her scales in icicles. She watched, also, as another dragon came up behind her, and sliced his claws over her throat.

Her father.

She ran, until she could not run any further. Her friend was dead. There was chaos everywhere. Once this was all settled, however, she knew she would return.

Bio by GraceKat99

An eternity of hiding, or maybe it was only a few days. Storm awoke, nearly crying. Her friend was gone, she didn't know what to do with herself. What if she had no purpose anymore? Maybe it was better to exalt herself. Maybe she could let herself rot. Maybe, the Icewarden would lock her up, freezing, never to see the sun again. In these thoughts, a shadow passed over her head, swooping round and round.

"I didn't know there were vultures in this land." Maybe it wants food, Storm thought to herself "I'm perfect for it." Lifting her head into the frigid air, she saw a huge purple imperial with a seawater colored mane. He was flying over her head, circling, curious. He was unlike any other dragon she had seen before. In her old clan, there were no dragons which looked close to him. They were all smaller. This one was graceful, and muscular with easy elegance.

The imperial grinned, seeing her staring at him. "I thought you'd never wake up. Bad night?"