Creative Corner

The Winds of Change: PART 1-Death of the King

Gioia nervously walked back and forth in the hall.

It's been more than a month since Galyar placed away his battle armor and had retired. Only that much. At the time, she only thought that old king simply decided to settle down and allow others for once to take the lead and do heavy lifting for him. However, the kings honesty is most superb so he spoke the truth with his queen.

"I am dying, Gioia."

The words were shocking but his voice was tender. She had no words. Galyar softly smiled at her love and continued. "I am not ill, I'm simply old... I can feel my time is coming."

Gioia forced a laughter and the words out of her mouth. "Hah, you... you are just trying to be dramatic, I'm sure you're not THAT old. Who are you trying to fool?"

She was in denial. Galyar only gently shook his head. "Gioia... I know it's painful but that is how things are. Time is something I can't fight against and win."

The queen's eyes started to wonder around the room. She looked at the chest with Galyar's armor then at his eyes again. He wasn't lying. Without any strength in her to fight the feeling, or rather, without even trying to fight it, her eyes started to water. All Galyar could do is smile and hug her. Gioia was innocent and precious to him, he would never wish any harm to her but this was inevitable.

Weeks passed by and the king's condition got worse. His legs started to fail him. The wings were too heavy to lift so he could't move. He was unable to eat either. The clan's healers were eager to try and help but Galyar refused any of it. He knew magic and medicine would only prologue his death, if not make it worse.

Then, the queen woke up this morning. Galyar wasn't there. Fearing for the worst, she rushed to other dragons and asked where he was. No one knew. In panic, she requested a search around the territory. He couldn't have gone off far in such condition.... unless he was saving his last ounce of strength to move and die away from the beloved one's eyes.

Then, one of the dragons approached her. It was Mancy. The motherly Imperial hesitated to speak. At that moment, the Queen knew what words she will hear.

"He is gone... we found him under your favorite willow tree..."

A heavy weight fell on Gioia's heart. She couldn't bare it. She couldn't speak. Her long neck allowed it's head to lower, the large wing wrapped around her front and she begun to silently sob into her palm. The Imperial could only bow her head as well and watch the Queen cry.

:

Biala stood over the soulless body of her grandfather. She was saddened and pressure built in her chest but she could not cry. Other clan members stood not far behind her. Some were crying, some were worried and sad. Even Mortisha heard the news and had come to observe from the distance.

"Poor king Galyar..." a voice came from the crowd. It was the hooded Guardian, Silva. "This is very saddening, but, well... he did lived longer than most Guardians do. Such an odd way to pass away, it's the Guardian way to die in the battle, to protect and die to serve, not like this."

A stomp and a roar then shot through the air, loud noise scaring the members and making them scatter. Biala widened her wings and scales and made a sudden charge at the silver Guardian. The hooded male lowered his posture and moved back a single step, not showing the fear but a simple submission.

"Do not speak of my blood as cowards or as of dishonored!"

Low rumbling came from Silva as he spoke back. "My apologies, dear princess..."

Biala had only recently matured but everyone knew she took her position seriously and to the good of the clan. Temper was not an issue to her so the clan members felt scared seeing her like this.

She noticed. Her stance changed and relaxed when she turned toward the clan members. "This is a time to mourn, not fight..." her tone changed completely to a gentle and caring one. "Pay your respects to our king... and hope for the better future."

Moonstruck who proudly stood by the Galyar's side, approached his king one last time... and bowed. Biala, Ruster and Samuel followed. Then the rest of the clan.

Gioia had no heart to see Galyar before he was buried. It was ordered to set an obelisk on the same spot he had died and was put to rest, to represent his greatness and strength. Now the willow tree shares the shade with this mighty tombstone that Queen visits every single sunrise.

( Aaaaaaaa, aaaaaaaaa, aaaaa, nuuuuu... -rolls in the feels- )

Jaroslav was dead, his nephew Slackjaw taking his place as the clan's leader.

Eight dragons dead in total.

Tesla's tail twitched nervously as he lay down on the hoard. Alone as he was nowadays, since Asteri was almost never around anymore, he had time to ponder, to think, to remember...

He didn't want to.

There was a significant hole in the clan, and one not stemming from missing members. The classes were gone. There was now barely any difference between a soldier, a civilian immersed in the welfare of the clan or simple scientist and librarians anymore. Meredith destroyed them, and now those who lived no longer knew where they stood, to whom they reported to. And now they had many young dragons who never knew the old order either, making a mess and doing what they wanted.

The stability they knew was swept under their feet in such a short time, most were still in shock.

Or worse.

Cortadala went insane, Vanya became a vengeful wraith, and even the soldeirs were unhappy and prone to violence more than usual. Felix was... Not who he used to be. While he still maintained his compassion and empathy, there was an undercurrent of something frightening underneath, ready to cut anything that stood in the way.

None of them could even blame Slackjaw. He had the blood of Grizko in his veins, and Felix did not protest his rule, nor he showed any sign of Jaroslav's bloodthirsty madness. No, it was Meredith who made them all miserable. She was the one who ordered the soldiers to eliminate the 3rd class. She sewed chaos so she could rule in the wake of its destruction.

Tesla hated Meredith.

Oh, how he hated her.

That conclusion drew upon Moonstone as news of recent days came in from affiliated clans. First the death of his oldest friend who ruled in the Reedcleft, and then the bloody fight of power in the Shattered Plain. Pacing the space of his nest, he huffed.
It felt like doom increased tremendously in it's each step. Who knows if it won't put it's withering claw in his clan, next. Dragons were restless with the news, and many were mourning their losses.

Moonstone was particularly worried for his queen. Aurora has been odd since Gaylar's death, and it only increased when news from the Dragonhome were brought in. She grew restless, spend majority of her time training herself, and young dragons. Also... she was always protective of their people, but now, she bordered violent in protection of hatchlings on even smallest notice, trust aside. That made some of their old clanmates leave into the service of Windsinger
Moonstone desperately wanted to know a way to put their Queen to rest. And when he thought of one, she had not liked it one bit. Perhaps, it might have even made things worse.
He suggested she works on bringing forth a heir to her throne.

He did not mean anything bad by it, merely tried to push her thoughts to more pleasant trouble. He himself already had a pair of heirs. He was particularly proud of Sentinel - oh, this Guardian was something...! Big, proud, and oh, great heir. Coldwind was a lovely young lady, too. Wise, for her age, so collected, and kind.
Aurora, on the other hand... she had no entitled heirs. But, it seems she took it as a suggestion that kinslaughter could happen at their clan, as well, and she better leaves someone to rule in case she herself gets assasinated.

Moonstone sighed. He hoped nothing too bad will come out of it.

Meirger really did not understand the older dragons, the ones who still remembered the time before 'The First Strife'. In actuality, it was the second strife, but as Grizko and Gospa left willingly and without bloodshed, it was not remembered as such.

He quickly glided from Tesla, who was in the middle of his rant about class system and its safety to land on Slackjaw's sleeping form. The leader gave a barely noticeable lurch as he woke up and levelled a steady gaze at Meriger until the younger dragon continued on his way.

Meirger was supposed to be a distraction while Knowberry swapped Sethius' apparel for ribbons, but his attention was stolen by Tesla, and now by Stromflow's blue twinkle in the dark Lair. Life, for him at least, was good here, in the Mighty Lair of the Greatwyrms's Breach.

He had enough food, he had friends to hang around with(though Suncatcher seem to only want to race, the boring featherbrain). Nadezda seemed to channel his interests in conceding with her own as they quietly played innocents while Knowberry and Stromflow had their fun. Justicius was asleep somewhere near, but Meirger didn't care at the moment.

Meirger suddenly let out a squeak as he noticed red eyes just a few milimetres from his face, and immediately growled at Frulis' chuckle. Deciding to take his revenge, he tackled the other Nocturne, trapping him in a hug. He met no resistance, and soon both of them fell alseep, cuddling in the corner, not noticing Milan's curious stare.

((What are we doing to our dragons *sobs* this was suppose to be fun XDD))

((It is fun. For us that is. For them? Not so much))

Current Theme Of My Clan: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5sYkG7IvSI

The Winds of Change: PART 2-The trophy in blood

Few things have gone wrong in the clans. Some were getting worse. Those who wonder further from it might feel it less but that was not all. Stepping back to see the whole situation from there might be for the best.

Courmorta was patrolling. Not just the border of her own clan but also of those it had close connections to. After all, she was born in clan of Moonstone, lived in her current one under the new ruling of Slackjaw and now visiting the borders of the dead king's clan. It wasn't her first time to cross this far, she was curious of how clan is doing and she felt no fear or hesitation to enter. After all, the one guarding the borders here was...

"Courmortaaaaa~!"

Mortisha, a mirror that seemed that was always high on energy, with swift movements that were not friendly, she approached low, quickly but cautiously to Courmorta. Her grin and mocking movements resembled that of a hyena teasing a lion.

"After all the rude worse you sent to me last time, you still came to see how I'm doing after our poor, poor king has passed. I'm touched.... but I'm not happy to see you with my good eyes, you walking wrench, eheheheee!"

Courmorta stopped in a single spot but she did not move. She took no offensive or defensive position but simply kept her eyes locked on the unfriendly dragoness. No words left her mouth either so Mortisha continued.

"What's wrong? Are your hotblooded clanmates looking for some help from ours? But they wouldn't send you here, no no... unless the clan is a complete mess now. Is it?"

Obviously, Mortisha was trying to get some insight from Courmorta as well. However, her action didn't change and her tongue stayed hidden and motionless.

Mortisha bared her teeth while grinning, her head was kept low to the ground and her movement lessened. Instead of frantically moving in half circle around her visitor, she slowly approached her.

"C'mon, I know owlcat didn't ate your tongue, unless you tried to swallow it whole you nasty glutton you... ahehehehe! Are you here to settle something with me instead?"

Keeping silent, Courmorta simply moved her head to the side, keeping the same focus with her eyes.

Mortisha stiffened her body, being ready to strike or jump back at any moment but Courmorta's low energy fed her confidence. She lifted her head now facing other mirror on the same height.

"What is it?? What is it?? Are you holding back because you are a pet to someone who will punish your misbehavior? Did they order you to shut your mouth once and for all? That's it, isn't it?! You can't act without orders now or you will be punished! You can't even throw some nasty words at me any more let alone ki--"

It wasn't even an eye blink. It was so swift it seemed like Courmorta's neck was loaded and waited to be triggered to move quickly and strike. Her jaws opened so quickly Mortisha didn't even notice. The teeth dug into the Mortisha's throat and the jaw clamped so hard it crushed it's structure. The tigered mirror might have been covered in thorns but there was still a clear opening.

Mortisha jumped from pain but no sound left her mouth. She dropped to her side and tried to claw Courmorta's eyes or face to get free but she was completely out of luck. Courmorta didn't even allowed her that. She sharply tugged her head back, then on the side, then the other and continued to do so in such a ferocious manner usually seen in animals who are trying to completely break and tear away their pray. The trashing made the blood spill over both dragoness and the surroundings. It didn't take long before it was clearly over.

Not just enabling Mortisha to breathe, Courmorta also slammed her body so hard it broke her neck few times, the spine and the elbow on the arm that faced the ground. When she stopped and noticed Mortisha was no more, Courmorta simply let go and dropped her worthless body tot he ground.

"Well, that was overdue..." she calmly spoke to herself while cleaning her mouth from blood with her tongue. She didn't feel any different from someone getting their daily job done. When deciding to leave, she took another look at beaten body and carelessly started taking off the thorns Mortisha wore so for so long for protection. It was what made the assassin know and now, the trademark of her success is being taken away by the triumphed dragoness.

She didn't hesitate to put it on. In fact, it suited her. Maybe more than to Mortisha. And that was the last time Courmorta looked at her "rival". As she walked back through the now silent grassland, her attention was suddenly driven not to far away. There was another mirror there. She could sense it, the dragon was scared to get close and would probably run away if she started chasing after it. She didn't want to ruin her current mood so she ignored who ever it was and turned to her lands.

:

Gioia was quickly informed of Mortisha's death. The scent of blood was so strong it wasn't hard to find her. The Queen turned worried. She may have not known Mortisha well but she was responsible for her safety and yet, there was no clue of what or who might have caused her death.

That was, until few days later when Moonstruck scouted the neighboring clans. He spotted a clown mirror wearing Mortisha's thorns.

"She was murdered...?" Gioia's heartbeat suddenly raced. She was scared.

"I'm afraid so, my queen. However, I doubt this was anything else but personal dispute between Mortisha and that dragoness."

Gioia's obvious panic made her block the words of her knight. "How are you so sure? What if they are out to create more bloodshed and outside of their clan?? The others, they are in danger..."

Moonstruck let out a heavy sigh. "Lady Gioia, you are overlooking this. If that was true then both Samuel and I would know."

"No, no... they are doing this in secret, just like they killed Mortisha in secret... Moonstruck, I don't want to lose another member, I can't... please, order for others to stay close to the center of the territory. No one is allowed to leave without my permission."

Moonstruck narrowed his eyes and hesitated to leave but he bowed and replied. "Yes, my queen..."


And so, new rules were set. There was tension within the clan. No more the freedom that existed during Galyar's rule.

Slowly but surely, few dragons started to leave the clan. They were no longer comfortable to live in such a contained manner. But honestly, that was it. Gioia, however, thought it was all because she failed as a queen. As a leader. As someone who was no longer there...

Lancelot spent the entire day sprawled in a heap again, and Robin's tail was as chewed on as ever. If Noctus was here, he would not be able to control the sheer rage that simmered beneath his skin and feathers. There was a hole. A hole in him. A hole where Morgana used to be and he couldn't fill it and Lancelot the Useless was. Not. Helping.

Robin didn't know what to do. There was no one to fight. The one who killed Morgana was out of limits, and Juliette would disapprove.

He didn't like it when she disapproved.

He didn't like most things nowadays. He didn't like Lancelot's quiet. He didn't like Blackfyre taking space as usual. he didn't like Colvera's stare just daring him to do anything. He didn't like the dragons he was bound to protect. No, he didn't like them at all. but they were the reason he was allowed to exist.

To do anything but what the clan leader Meredith wanted was unthinkable.

And yet...

Robin started to chew on his tail again, drawing blood in his agitation. His father became different, more like them. The soldiers. He seemed to simmer like Robin did. But Robin still did not understand what was wrong with him. Nothing ever seemed to help. Juliette would try and talk to him, but he couldn't. Every time he would try and open his mouth his voice wasn't coming out. No matter how hard he tried. Some days his throat would hurt so bad he would have to let Lancelot massage it.

He licked the blood away gently, turning his gaze towards Ares as the Imperial spoke in low tones with Leader Meredith. Maybe if Morgana was more like Ares, she would be alive? No. She would still have fought. Still dead.

Their cousin, Stormflow was in the clan too. She was a lot like her aunt Sanya.

Robin winced when a ripping feeling struck his chest. Like it drew blood well until aunt Sanya was dead.

He wanted to scream. To rage. To roar.

He couldn't.

@FlySkyHigh
@DoomOverlord

Coldwind browsed the books of the clan, and found father's journals of the clan. No longer were there many entries... She took it upon herself to fix the problem. After all, what would we be without history... And that, had to be written.
For a moment she closed her eyes and replayed recent happenings, and began to write. Although, after the Red Revolt, as in their records was called the infighting that threw Jaroslav off the throne in Greatwyrm's Breach, and put Slackjaw in his place instead; and after Gaylar's much mourned passing, the affiliated clans with time passed on, the situation in her own clan in Reedcleft Ascent was not much better - in fact, they only traded one worry for another.

Queen was tense before, expecting doom to cross their paths. But, as it did not, with time, and much reassuring (and a few loyalty oaths) she was on the good way to calming down. She really was. And perhaps she'd be more like her old self, if not Moonstone's heir's stupidity. And no, as expected, it was not Coldwind's doing, but her brother's, Sentinel's.

Oh, the fool...! Cocky idiot, insolent hatchling...! It came around to pop up in his careless head that he could com around to court and win over the queen. She, of course, dusted him off her. But the imbecile didn't stop there! And now, the queen believes him to be sent or egged on by their father, Moonstone, who suggested before that Queen should have her own heirs soon.
That, made her believe that schemes of her assassination are indeed circling among Moonstone's King line. In her defense, that would be most cunning way should anyone from our lineage wish to take over and have hold over both lineages. If Sentinel was to win over the queen, then, after killing her, of course he would be the ruler of the Queen lineage, as... odd, as it sounds.

And now, that wandering warrior appeared, and oddly enough Queen took such quick liking to him. Perhaps she's looking for allies. Perhaps... perhaps she plans to secure her lineage, or... let's hope she's not planning to attack, before she's attacked.