Mystic

Mystic stared down at the fire before him. His jacket was loosely draped over his shoulders and fluttered lightly in the wind. His breath became visible in the moonlight as he sighed. How did he get into this situation? He didn't remember or rather, he didn't want to remember. The images of the night he left his family behind haunted his dreams. He shook off the memories and looked at his ring. The only thing he would keep from his old life. He knew killing the clan leader would be risky, and there was the possibility of getting caught and exiled, but he hadn't expected his own mother to be the one to catch him sneaking away from the crime scene. Even more unexpected was the fact that his mother ratted him out, as she had always told him she'd have his back should he ever get into trouble.

Then again, she probably hadn't meant or expected murder. Maybe Mystic had gone too far this time, but he would never openly admit his mistakes, so he simply took the blame and left without showing an ounce of regret in front of his clan mates, or former clan mates now. Did he regret murdering the leader? No. The dragon was a tyrant and only cared for himself and his blood relatives. What he did regret, though, was getting caught, but at least his family wouldn't suffer due to an incompetent and selfish leader anymore. Mystic wondered who the new leader would be and had played with the thought of sneaking back just to see how everyone was doing, but he knew they wouldn't tolerate his presence near the camp.

He didn't care too much, life on the road had been fun. There were no rules to follow, no dragons to worry about and a lot more free time than he had had when he was still a member of his old clan. He knew this wasn't perfect, and he might have to settle down one day, once he grows old and tired, but for now the life as a lone wanderer seemed to suit him well. He yawned. The fire had died out as he was lost in thought. Mystic hadn't realized how long he'd been reminiscing about the old times, but the sun started to rise on the horizon and the bird started to sing. He sighed, if he slept now he might get a few hours of sleep before the sun heats the stones up too much to lie on them. The small Pearlcatcher curled up and watched the feathers on his tail sway in the breeze before his eyes fell shut and he slowly drifted off to sleep, the wind in his fur and the song of the birds around him. A small smile on his lips as he dreamed of the future, places he'd visit and dragons he'd meet.

HOARD