Wrath

Wrath was... unnatural. He had always been strange but now... now Wrath is feared. He is powerful, and unpredictable, and unknown. He is Fury.

One day, long ago, possibly centuries... War appeared. War was never a normal dragon. Not of Beastclans, and not of anything else at all. War just was. Some - many, really, believed war was a god. She spread conflict, and anger, and fighting, jealousy, hatred, wherever she stepped. Some believed she was like Plaugebringer, or Earthshaker, but for war and anger. And one day, War appeared in Wrath's village. Dragons whispered to each other, backed away, openly stared, and cried. Some were terrified. Some thought it was nonsense, stupidity even, and just carried on as normal, making remarks about the ridiculous other dragons.

They learnt to regret it.

Days later, small arguments began to break out between families. Dragons were less welcoming, especially the ones who didn't believe in War. At shops, they argued over prices. Dragons snarled at each other over dinner and growled at others about small, stupid day-to-day annoyances. But Wrath... he was the worst of them all. His original name was never Wrath, but it was lost over centuries of stories about him. Wrath hissed at passers-by, cursed families, and purposefully injured dragons then roared that they were being careless and stupid. All the villagers were so confused... he had been such a pleasant dragon just weeks ago... but now he was horrible.

Weeks later, the situation had escalated terribly. Now, dragons were obviously preparing for battle, and small scraps had broken out on the streets- already, four dragons had died and sixteen had to have immediate medical attention. And Wrath was the worst of them all. Three out of four deaths had been in fights started by him, and nearly all the injuries too. Around him radiated a toxic fury, slithering towards the dragons around him and seeping through them. Then, one day, the tension exploded. A massive fight broke out all through the village, but, no matter how many groups battled against each other, they all had a common enemy. Wrath. Slowly, dragons began to group in the clearing, snarling and hissing at Wrath, who flew above them, silhouetted in the night sky. Red against black. Blood stains spattered all across the town, but eventually every single dragon was gathered in the surging ocean below Wrath. And then one dragon lunged, and the rest followed behind her. It was War. She swept towards him, gusts of wind roared behind her as she beat her wings. Her pale, slitted eyes focused on him and she attacked. Dragons swarmed around the battle like wasps, watching through narrowed eyes and flicking large wings. Eventually, the dragons opened up to form a sort of entrance, and Wrath rose up above them all. War was dead. A new kind of fury and hatred gleaming in his narrowed eyes. A red glow shone behind his head like a halo, and slowly, like a wave, the dragons began to bow. They had never seen such power, and never felt such fear. They all knew their only chance of survival was to submit to this terrifying… creature. And from then on, Wrath slithered from village to village, spreading hatred like poison with every step he took. Wrath was the new elemental - War.