Short Stories from Pyrrhia

★★★★ Short stories written by Daychorus and the Admins from the narratives of official characters and inserted POV's in the AU

★★★ Stories From Daychorus

★ Smugglers Safe house

* This story contains potentially fowl language, if your younger please, skip over this story*

He stared up at the grey draping over a single, rectangular window at the door. That was a sign of a safe house among Croak's fellows. He opened the tall door, made to accommodate the large wings and antlers of a Ember' Wing. As he stepped into the house stepping onto the cold, dark, wooden floor. Another dragon would have made the floorboards creak, but not Croak, he past silently though the simplistic main room, descending down a flight of stairs. He emerged in a decorated rectangular room. Croak frowned, being so used to the curvature in Sea' Wing buildings, the rough geometric angles in Ember' Wing masonry still perplexed him "It's odd they decorate the panel's like this..." He murmured loudly, running his palm across the wood which lined a stone exterior, in order to keep the moisture out. Expectantly, he turned to face a large, sickly green Sea' Wing "Brine." Croak raised a brow, leaning onto a polished wooden table. "What news this time, Ja?" Croak asked, Brine just grunted, tossing the smaller Sea' Wing a yellowish letter, wrapped in a green bow. Croak just shook his head, "Not much for small talk, Nein?", he asked. "If you talked like a normal Sea' Wing and not some blundering Ember' Wing Rapscallion." Brine stated rather bluntly as he climbed the stairs, the daft wood creaking under him. "If that was meant to hurt my Pride you should try harder, next time I'll pull your Srall's in public!" He chuckled, shaking his head, and opening the letter. Under the dim light it was hard to see, but it was clearly an Invitation to a party- from Wellspring of course "Curse that bastard" Croak rumbled, tempted to crumple the letter. "What does he want from me now?" He glanced up the stairs, light shafting through the deep ashen window drape- he was already late.

★ A Lost Letter, A Lost Chance

On a far away beach, a shiny little bottle washed onto the shore, the roar of waves lapping at the bottle cap. I padded across the sand towards the bottle, picking it up, watching the sand shift off it's surface as I clasped it between my talons. I opened the bottle, eager to read the undamaged message that awaited inside. Scanning the page; ''If your reading this, it's to late. The war is over, your only hope is to follow them to a new land, they say the trees their have unwavering beauty, and they have mountains that soar above the clouds. I can hear them, the buzz of wings droning on and on- searching, scanning. I am afraid, afraid of the damage, of the mark they will leave, It's to late for me now. Ride the waves, find the Forgotten continents, where dragons breath fire, and swim in the sea, find a new hope for us all..." I stared at the letter, tears running down my face- "What happened?" I asked aloud, the rest of the message becoming an unreadable blob as my tears dripped slowly onto the folds of the paper. "Who wrote this?" I questioned aloud, none of it made sense. I sighed wiping away the tears from my eyes, I thought to myself I'm to late- I failed them, but who?'' I sighed once more, resting my palm on a heavily worn imprint of what looked like a droplet, of rain or honey dew on the side of the bottle. I don't know, I know nothing. I need to find out more, maybe their is still time to help these dragons, maybe I can help them.

★ A Bards Beginnings/Chever's Tale

You walked into the tavern. The first floor is stone, the rest is wooden, classic Ember' Wing design, you think to yourself, as you enter, laughter filling your ears, dragons are swaying to the music. As you take your seat another musician takes the stage, you peer over the crowd to see a young Ember' Wing. A few people laugh at the appearance of someone so young, but you simply cock your head to the side and wait. The Dragonet takes out a wooden guitar, stating, "I wrote this a while back- And please at least do me a favor and don't laugh..." he murmured. The crowd hushed as the dragonet started to strum the strings on the guitar, in a high, smooth voice he began the first line; "Poor ill willed Chever, has met a bad fate, the outside of him shivers, the inside is timbers, and poor ill willed Chever, has failed his endeavor, poor ill willed Chever, has met a bad fate~". He crowd bobbed their heads, many of the Ember' Wings joining with the somehow cheery mood. It amazes you how anyone could sing to another's misfortune, but even you give into the tone and the movement of the dragonets words, the soft crescendo of their voice. You join them in their drunken singing, their melody filling the tavern... "poor ill willed Chever! Has met a bad fate..."

★ A day in The Stadt der Srall (City of Scales)

★★★ Stories From Mensch

★ “The Fire Falls War” Prophecy

Wings of Sky

Wings of Ember

Fight for the land of

Birch and Valleys beyond.

”The land is sacred”

”The land is ours”

The tribes argue and

Turns to conflict into war

And thus the friendships of the tribes tore.

If those who breath the water reach out to the Sky,

the Embers will die.

If those who roam the Swamp spark the Ember,

The Sky will fail and the Embers will prevail.

If both Water and Mud help both sides,

This war may not turn out right.

So be cautious those without fire and those with

For this war will take a big hit.

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