The darkness of the cave was absolute, the only sound the soft breathing of my family. But I was awake, my mind racing with thoughts of the Shadow Wings and Father's mysterious behavior.
I carefully extracted myself from Father's wings, not wanting to disturb him. Mother stirred slightly, but she didn't wake up.
I sat up, looking around the cave. The shadows seemed to move and twist in the dim light, like living things. I felt a shiver run down my spine.
Suddenly, I heard a faint whispering in my ear. It was soft and raspy, and it seemed to be coming from all around me.
"Tharros... Tharros... wake up..."
I spun around, trying to locate the source of the whispering. But there was no one there.
The whispering grew louder, more insistent. "Tharros... come with us..."
I felt a surge of fear mixed with curiosity. Who or what was whispering in my ear? And what did they want from me?
The whispering seemed to grow louder, more urgent, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I thought, "Wait, is this the Shadow Wings that Father locked up?"
The whispering seemed to pause, as if whatever was making the noise was considering my question. Then, in a voice that was barely audible, the whispering continued, "Yes... we are the ones... locked away..."
I felt a surge of surprise and curiosity. How were the Shadow Wings communicating with me? And what did they want from me?
The whispering grew louder again, more insistent. "Tharros... help us... free us..."
I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Should I help the Shadow Wings, or should I leave them locked away? My thoughts were, "What do they mean by 'free us'?"
The whispering seemed to respond, "Free us from the Umbra Cell... Father's prison..."
I shook my head and went back to sleep under Father Wing again.
The whispering seemed to fade away, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my life was about to change in ways I couldn't yet imagine. I settled back under Father's wing, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought, "I'll deal with this in the morning."
The darkness of the cave enveloped me once more, and I slept, unaware of the challenges that lay ahead.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully, with only the occasional sound of dripping water or the soft rustling of unknown creatures in the darkness breaking the silence.
As the first light of dawn began to creep into the cave, I stirred, feeling refreshed and ready to face whatever the day might bring. Father's wing was still wrapped around me, and I gently extricated myself from his grasp.
Mother was already up, preparing breakfast for the family. The smell of roasting meat wafted through the air, making my stomach growl with hunger.
"Good morning, Tharros," Mother said, smiling. "Sleep well?"
I nodded, taking a seat beside her. "Yeah, I did. But I had a strange dream last night."
Mother's expression turned curious. "What kind of dream?"
I hesitated, unsure if I should share the details of the whispering Shadow Wings. But something about Mother's gentle tone put me at ease. "I heard whispers," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "From the Shadow Wings."
I look at the floor. "You know what, never mind!" I said.
Mother seemed curious "ummmm OK then I will leave you alone!" She said.
Mother's expression changed from curiosity to concern, but she nodded and said, "Alright, Tharros. I'll leave you alone for now."
She got up and walked away, leaving me sitting alone by the fire. I stared at the flames, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me.
I thought to myself, "Why did I say that? Why didn't I tell her about the whispering?"
The fire crackled and spat, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the cave. I sat there for a while, lost in thought, trying to make sense of the strange events of the previous night.
As I sat there, lost in thought, I heard Father stirring behind me. He stretched his wings and yawned, shaking off the remnants of sleep.
"Good morning, Tharros," he said, his voice deep and rumbling. "What's wrong? You look troubled."
I turned to face him, unsure of how to respond. Should I tell him about the whispering, or keep it to myself?
Father's eyes narrowed, his expression concerned. "Tharros, what's going on? You're not yourself this morning."
I hesitated, unsure of what to say. But before I could respond, Father's gaze shifted to something behind me, and his expression changed to one of surprise and annoyance.
I sighed. "It is find just got a wield dream, but I'm sure it not important!"
Father's expression softened slightly, and he nodded understandingly. "Ah, well, dreams can be unsettling, can't they? But you're safe now. You're here with me and Mother."
He placed a reassuring claw on my shoulder, and I felt a sense of comfort wash over me. Maybe it was just a weird dream, and I was overthinking it.
But as I looked into Father's eyes, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. That the whispering had been more than just a dream.
Father seemed to sense my unease, and he leaned in closer. "Tharros, is there something you're not telling me? Something that's bothering you?"
Father, look at me and smiled "Time for your grooming!" He said and pulled me closer to him and licked me gently.
I giggled and squirmed slightly, feeling the rough texture of Father's tongue as he licked me gently. It was a familiar and comforting sensation, one that I had grown accustomed to over the years.
As Father continued to groom me, I felt a sense of relaxation wash over me. His gentle licks and soft growls were soothing, and I began to feel my worries and concerns melting away.
I looked up at Father, and he smiled back at me, his eyes shining with affection. "You're a good boy, Tharros," he said, his voice low and rumbling. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
I smiled back at him, feeling happy and content. For a moment, I forgot about the strange whispering and the concerns that had been plaguing me. All that mattered was this moment, right here, with Father.
Suddenly, I hear Lyriath "a daddy boy like always!" He teased, and I tried my best to hold back my anger.
I felt a surge of annoyance at Lyriath's teasing, but I tried to keep my cool. "Just ignore him, Tharros," Father said, his voice calm and soothing. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you."
But Lyriath wouldn't let up. "Yeah, Tharros is always Daddy's little boy," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "He's always so perfect and obedient."
I clenched my fists, feeling my anger simmering just below the surface. Why did Lyriath always have to push my buttons like this?
I yelled "YEAH I'M FATHER LITTLE BOY! BUT AT LEAST MY SCALES DIDN'T GET BURNED BY MY OWN FIRE BREATH A FEW YEARS AGO!" A few years back, I have burned his scales out of anger for scared me.
The cave fell silent, with all eyes on Lyriath and me. Lyriath's face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment, and he took a step forward, his fists clenched.
"How dare you bring that up!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the cave walls. "That was one mistake, and you're still rubbing it in my face!"
Father intervened, his voice calm and authoritative. "Enough, both of you. This isn't the time or place for fighting."
But the damage was done. The tension between Lyriath and me was palpable, and the other siblings were starting to take sides. Vyraxys and Nyxoria were watching with wide eyes, while Kaidorix and Kieraxys were arguing in hushed tones. Niamon, sensing the tension, began to cry.
The argument was far from over, and it seemed like things were about to escalate.
Father sighed. "Vyraxys to Niamon, you 6 go somewhere else if you don't want to hear what I will say!" He roar in anger.
The six younger siblings quickly scrambled to get out of the way, with Vyraxys scooping up Niamon and the others rushing to follow. They disappeared into the depths of the cave, leaving only Lyriath and me standing before Father.
Father's roar had been loud enough to shake the cave walls, and the silence that followed was oppressive. Lyriath and I exchanged a nervous glance, both of us knowing that we were in for a stern lecture.
"Now," Father began, his voice low and menacing, "I want to know what's going on between the two of you. This bickering and arguing has been going on for far too long, and it's time someone explained to me what's causing it."
Lyriath and I looked at each other, then back at Father. Neither of us spoke, both of us waiting for the other to break the silence. Father's eyes narrowed, his expression unyielding.
"Fine," he said, his voice dripping with disappointment. "If neither of you will speak, then I'll have to take matters into my own hands. Both of you, follow me."
With that, Father turned and strode away, his long strides forcing Lyriath and me to hurry to keep up. We followed him deeper into the cave, the darkness swallowing us whole. I could feel Lyriath's anger and frustration radiating off him, and I knew that this confrontation was far from over.
As we walked, the air grew thick with the scent of damp earth and mold. We were heading towards the Heartwood Tree, a sacred place where Father often took us to teach us important lessons. I had a feeling that this was going to be one of those lessons.
The trees seemed to close in around us as we walked, the branches tangling together above our heads to form a canopy of twisted limbs. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and mold, and the sound of dripping water echoed through the cave.
As we approached the Heartwood Tree, I could feel its energy pulsing through the air. The tree was ancient, its trunk twisted and gnarled with age. It was said to hold the secrets of our people, and Father often came here to seek guidance.
Father stopped before the tree, his eyes fixed on the trunk. "Sit," he said, his voice low and commanding. Lyriath and I sat down on either side of him, our eyes fixed on the tree.
The silence was oppressive, and I could feel Lyriath's anger and frustration simmering just below the surface. Father's eyes seemed to bore into my soul, and I knew that he could see the truth.
"Now," Father said, his voice low and menacing. "One of you is going to tell me what's going on. And I want the truth."
I question "what truth do you want to know?"
Father's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. "The truth about what's causing the tension between you and Lyriath. The truth about why you're constantly arguing and bickering. I want to know what's really going on here."
He paused, his eyes flicking between Lyriath and me. "And I want the honest truth, not some half-truth or excuse. I want to know what's really driving this behavior."
Father's voice was low and serious, and I could feel the weight of his words. He wasn't going to let this go until he got to the bottom of things. I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts and figure out how to explain the complex emotions and feelings that had been building between Lyriath and me.
I sighed. "Look remember the one that Lyriath jumped scared me a few years ago?! Yeah, that was when I started to get mad at him if he was trolling or teasing me!"
Father's expression changed from stern to surprised. "You mean the incident with the waterfall?" he asked, his voice a little softer.
Lyriath looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and guilt. "Yeah, that was a while ago," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Father's eyes narrowed again. "So, this is about something that happened years ago? And it's been building up ever since?" He looked at Lyriath. "And you're aware of this?"
Lyriath nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess I am. I didn't mean to scare him that much, but..."
Father interrupted him. "Let's focus on Tharros's feelings for now. Tharros, can you explain why this incident has affected you so much?"
I took another deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I don't know, Father. I just feel like Lyriath doesn't understand me sometimes. And when he teases me or tries to scare me, it makes me feel...anxious, I guess. And angry."
Father nodded thoughtfully. "I see. And Lyriath, you weren't aware of the impact your actions had on Tharros?"
Lyriath shook his head. "No, Father. I didn't mean to hurt him. I just thought it was funny."
Father's expression turned serious again. "Well, it's clear that there's more to this than just a simple prank. We need to work on understanding each other's feelings and boundaries."
He looked at both of us. "And we need to start by talking about this more."
Lyriath looked at his scales, and his original scales were navy-blue, and now their are dark and blood-red scales color, and that what remains after I burned it.
He has been missing his original full navy-blue scales ever I burned it.
Lyriath's gaze lingered on his dark, blood-red scales, a constant reminder of the incident. He missed his original navy-blue scales, the ones he had been born with. The ones I had burned.
"Lyriath, I'm sorry," I said, feeling a pang of guilt. "I didn't mean to hurt you that badly."
Lyriath looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and understanding. "I know you didn't, Tharros. But it still hurts to look at my scales and remember what happened."
Father placed a gentle claw on Lyriath's shoulder. "We'll get through this, Lyriath. We'll find a way to make you feel better."
I nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of regret for my actions. I wished I could turn back time and not lose control of my firepower. But all I could do now was try to make things right and be more careful in the future.
Lyriath's expression turned thoughtful, and he spoke up. "You know, Tharros, maybe this is an opportunity for me to try a new scale color. Something that'll make me stand out even more."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Lyriath's suggestion. "What did you have in mind?"
Lyriath's eyes sparkled with excitement as he considered his options. "I've always wanted to get my original navy-blue scales back," he said, his voice filled with a hint of determination. "Maybe there's a way to reverse the damage or find a cure for the discoloration."
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical about the idea. "I'm not sure that's possible," I said, trying to think of the logistics. "But I'm willing to try anything to make things right."
Lyriath shrugged, undeterred. "It's worth a try, don't you think? And even if it doesn't work, at least I'll have tried something new. I'm tired of just sitting around feeling sorry for myself."
Father nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Actually, Lyriath, that's not a bad idea. There are some skilled scale healers in the city who might be able to help you achieve the look you're going for. We could take a trip to the city and see what they have to offer."
Lyriath's face lit up with excitement, and he grinned at me. "What do you say, Tharros? Are you up for a trip to the city?"
I sighed. "Lyriath and father, you do remember Mother said healing won't work!"
Lyriath's face fell, and he looked at me with a mix of disappointment and frustration. "Oh, right. Mother did say that, didn't she?" He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I forgot about that."
Father's expression turned thoughtful. "Yes, your mother did mention that healing magic wouldn't work on your scales, Lyriath. But maybe there's something else we can try. Something that doesn't involve magic."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What did you have in mind, Father?"
Father's eyes sparkled with a hint of excitement. "I've heard of a legendary scale restorer who lives in a distant mountain cave, far from our clan's territory. He's said to have a special technique that can restore damaged scales to their original state."
Lyriath's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That's amazing!"
I frowned, skeptical. "But Father, that's a long shot. What if it's just a myth?"
Father shrugged. "It's worth a try, don't you think? We can take a journey to the distant mountain cave and see if we can find this scale restorer. It might be our only chance to restore your scales, Lyriath."
Lyriath's face lit up with hope. "Let's do it, Father! I'm willing to try anything."
I nodded, resigned. "Alright, let's do it. But if it's just a myth, I'm blaming you, Father."
Father chuckled. "Deal! We'll leave tomorrow morning. Get some rest, everyone. We've got a long journey ahead of us."