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A Game for Spirits[]

For the fanfic contest-WIP

Chapter One[]

The day it happened seemed like a normal day, for each dragonet- Maia, Rika, Pathpaver, and Tsubasa. On that day, though, a haunting song that sent shivers down their backs wove through their homes of sand, sky, forest, and ice.

Only the dragonets were able to hear the song, and when it reached their hearts they inadvertently jerked upright, pupils constricting and turning grey. The song filled their minds and bodies, modifying their genome, changing their brains.

The dragons around them didn't notice anything, of course-they couldn't hear the song, and they weren't watching the dragonets closely. But at that moment, they felt a link click into place, too, a link they couldn't follow but a link that had something to it they had yet to discover.

Maia[]

The song was so, so beautiful, something the butter-yellow SandWing wanted to sing onstage, one day. Although she probably wouldn't, seeing how her mother disapproved of her handwritten songs. She gave herself a mental shake, thinking Don't think that way! Or you'll give up and you'll never achieve that dream!

Maia twisted her neck around in a circle, feeling uncomfortable. The song still surrounded her, and now she could hear a dragon singing a high aria. When she sharpened her vision, she saw flashes of a silver and rose-pink dust, and it was swirling in a circle around her.

A talon rose, sharp and glinting, out of the dust and jabbed towards her heart. Maia flinched, raising her barbed tail, but it simply dissolved-or did it go inside her body? It felt like it went inside my body... her mind whispered, but she shook her head. "I'm delusional, thinking that."

Go to the circle."W-what?!" Maia exclaimed, flapping her wings in alarm, her polished scales reflecting the sun. She looked around quickly, but there was nobody around. "A weird dust... a shivery feeling... a creepy voice in my head... and NO PREY AROUND! Can things get ANY worse?!" she screamed towards the sky.

"Oi, whatcha doing?" hissed a voice. A real one this time, not one inside her head. Maia whipped her head around and there stood a small IceWing. She immediately knew the type-the one that thinks she's big and scary, but is actually small and scared.

"Answer me!" the IceWing growled. Maia internally rolled her eyes, but she smiled and answered "I'm Maia, and I'm hunting." She looked suspicious. God did she hear me? "No, you weren't! I heard you screaming about voices and feelings! Dragons hunting don't do that!" Crap, she heard!

"Are you the same as me?" she continued. "T-the same?" There was another dragon that had the dust and the voice? Had the IceWing heard the Go to the circle too? Maia decided not to ask, she didn't want to appear nosy in front of a dragon that might have gone through the same thing.

"Did you hear 'Go to the circle' inside your head?" The SandWing's head jerked up and she nodded. The light-cream IceWing, covered in sand and dust, smiled for an instance before contorting her expression into a serious thinking one. "You look pretty when you smile" said Maia, plowing through her question without looking at the other dragon's face. "Why don't you do it more often?"

"OW!" A shifting of sands and a zinging noise. Blood ran from three precise rivulets on Maia's snout onto the sand, staining it rust red. She growled at the pain and clapped a talon to the wounds. The IceWing jumped back, her own serrated talons glistening with blood. It hurts like a whip.

The ice dragon, uncomfortable in the searing heat and desert sands, not looking like she belonged there, narrowed her eyes. "Don't ask unnecessary questions and don't prod into other dragon's lives. Got it?" She hissed, baring her teeth and letting a wisp of frostbreath float out. She had the grit and the stealth to survive in the SandWing kingdom, even though she was an IceWing. Maia felt a glimmer of something deep within her brain, was it respect? For an IceWing? Even though she'd been taught not to trust, not to respect?

Her mother's mantra pounded through her head as her brain rapidly analyzed the IceWing. Ask good questions, don't trust anybody. Fighting is always the best way out. Ask good questions, don't trust anybody. Fighting is always the best way out. Was her mother wrong? What would've happened had she not asked the question?

"Well, whatever." she muttered, realizing for the first time how much her snout hurt. The claws of an IceWing were a thousand times sharper than the claws of a SandWing, hurting like 50 daggers. The IceWing hissed again and motioned for Maia to follow her.

They took off into the sky. Maia didn't look back at her home. She never wanted to go back there again anyways-the echoes of yells and droplets, the dusty, empty, creepy abandoned rooms, the way it trembled sometimes like it would crash down on her head. That was why she went hunting all the time-to get out of the house.

Why exactly she was following the IceWing, she didn't know. Something compelled her to do it. And even though she was told to not ask unnecessary questions, she said "So, why are we flying? What's your name?"

She powered her wings to match the IceWing's speed and dove under her. Glancing up, she saw the IceWing's jaw was clenched tight and her eyes had a determined look in them that matched Maia's so long ago, when her father was still alive, when she was set on becoming Pyrrhia's no. 1 singer.

A moment passed between them as they flew in silence, the only sound echoing around them was their wingbeats. Then the IceWing looked down and met her eyes. "My name," she said in an unrevealing monotone, "is Rika. We are flying to the circle."

The circle?! "How do you know where it is already?" Maia half-growled, half-gasped. She COULDN'T have figured it out, she looked like one of those sheltered, pampered royals. The rounded scales with that sheen to it, the delicate jewelry that adorned her horns, the 2 circles that were on a metal chain 'round her neck, they all gave her away. "You're in the Second Circle-you've been pampered all your life, never going outside the kingdom until now! How can you, an inexperienced dragonet, know?"

Rika's expression changed. There was ice blistering in her eyes, a vicious snarl pulled her mouth back. "I am not inexperienced! I have been all over Pyrrhia! You do not know me and you never will so f*** off!"

What reckless speaking. Just like a runaway's. Maia decided not to mention it, Rika was sure to kill her judging from the scratch she'd been given just minutes ago. Rika coughed and continued. "There are two places that can be 'the circle'. One is in the Rain Kingdom and one is in the Sky Kingdom. A circle of mountains and a circle of trees."

Despite her mother's advice, Maia had to admit that Rika was very smart. And out of the two of them, most likely to survive a war, having traveled all over Pyrrhia by herself, as a dragonet and a runaway. Rika smirked. "You know I can literally see respect written all over your face, right?" She smarted.

And also the most annoying.

Rolling her eyes, Maia looked away from Rika and paused, letting the female IceWing fly ahead by a bit. Following in behind, they flew southwest, towards the first circle.

Rika[]

Who does she think she is, asking questions like that? The thought flew around my head as we headed towards the Rain Kingdom's circle. It really wasn't that important to me, there was nothing to gain from it, but it was at least interesting. There I go, acting like a cliche antagonist again. Not that it bothers me.

The two chains around my neck didn't symbolize anything. It meant nothing to me, but it obviously meant something to the annoying SandWing-her name, was it Maka? I was in the Second Circle before I ran away. My rank must have dropped down to the Seventh Circle-or been taken out.

So, the question is, why aren't I ripping it off and frosting it? I should have done that when I ran away. Truth be told, I'd never thought about it. The cool metallic chains weighed almost nothing, it was almost unnoticable. I had been living with it for 3 years, wearing it as a sign of pride, weilding it to command lower-circle dragons. I guess I had gotten used to it hanging around my neck.

But to a runaway-an IceWing runaway-they were the mark of a high-born brat. In the tricky and violent world outside the palace, you had to erase all signs of being high-born, having a privileged life. I'd learned that the hard way. 

Dragons on the streets are merciless. They taunt you and beat you for having signs of wealth. And yet, having learned that lesson over and over again, I never knew it was because of the chains. 

Well, enough of that. Nothing would be accomplished sitting here and moping about things in the past. The only things that would be accomplished in life will be done by moving forwards. 

That's right. I'm going to keep walking forwards, one talon after another, until the past is a blank sheet. Until I forget everything.

I focused my sharp gaze on the green blur of forest in the horizon. Ignoring Maka, I flew ahead, not looking back to see if she would follow me like one of those blindly loyal idiots that attended to the royals at the palace. 

Like the ones I had before. Not anymore. I'd learned how the IceWings could be vicious and primal, how my tribe could be so sharp and jagged around the edges. 

Not anymore.

Pathpaver[]

He paused and the rainforest quieted. What was that noise just now? A lone cricket chirped, as if it was asking "When can we go back to making that horrible cacophony you call a symphony?" Pathpaver narrowed his eyes as the growls and hisses and foreign shrieks died down in his area only.

There was something weird out there. What is it? A song, something so eerie yet attracting. His mother had told him, "Avoid things like that, you'll just get into more trouble." But now he had experienced, full-on, the power of things like that, as his mother has so elegantly phrased it.

There! His mind went flank, Pathpaver floated towards it unconsciously. No, wait, I need to run away...the sensible part of his brain stirred sluggishly. He was already too close, now, though, to escape the grasp of the whirlwind song.

It was stirring, it was rising, a thousand times more beautiful than the RainWings' dances.

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