Chapter Text
The enormous eye drifted back to its master, who gazed down at a wing-scorched cocoon curled protectively around the figure beneath it. Its master was an Ivory Dragon, their pale yellow eyes standing stark against black sclera and a dark pupil. Long, off-white hair flowed behind them as they hovered in the sky.
They were adorned in flowing white robes, layered beneath a set of golden armor that covered their chest, shoulders, elbows, and the sides of their head.
The Ivory Dragon floated above the cocoon as the charred wings slowly unraveled, revealing an injured dragon beneath. Their voice boomed across the sky, calm and almost nonchalant.
"Go and rest, Pitaya Dragon Cookie. You will need it when I eventually restore the glory of the past. I hope you learn your lesson during your rest."
The Ivory Dragon turned away, leaving the heavily injured Legendary Red Dragon behind. Two dragons followed after them: one resembling a pineapple, golden scales shimmering with a faint red glint, and another resembling a lychee, bearing clear signs of being the one responsible for the wounds carved into the Legendary Red Dragon's torso.
Pitaya watched helplessly, their vision already beginning to blur as they were left behind by dragons they had once considered kin, once considered sparring partners—now tyrants willing to do anything to achieve their goals. They hissed through clenched teeth, pain, betrayal, and a sadness they would never admit mixing together inside them.
The pineapple dragon turned their head back.
Their eyes met.
For a brief moment, Pitaya saw it clearly.
Guilt.
Shame.
Emptiness.
Pitaya could have shouted after them, called them two-faced snakes, cowards hiding behind the past. The words burned at the back of their throat.
Then agony struck.
A sudden wave of pain consumed the Red Dragon. The adrenaline that had carried them through the battle finally faded, leaving them to suffer the full consequences of their wounds. They clutched their bleeding torso, coughing up jam that splattered across the clouds beneath them.
The golden dragon quickly turned away and hurried after the others.
The pain was overwhelming, unlike anything Pitaya had ever experienced in battle before.
Their vision had become hazy. The searing pain from their scorched wings and limbs forced them to cough up jam mixed with ichor, and every breath felt heavier than the last. Even the smallest movement sent fresh agony coursing through their body.
Pitaya looked up one final time.
The three dragons vanished beyond the clouds.
Gone.
As, in the end, the Legendary Red Dragon finally gave in.
A sharp gasp echoed through a wasteland littered with stone statues frozen in time.
The figure jolted upright, only to groan as a surge of pain shot through their body, as though old wounds had torn open once more.
Their vision remained clouded and unfocused.
Squinting, they forced their eyes to adjust and slowly took in their surroundings.
Desolation.
Stone figures.
Ruins.
Silence.
They attempted to stand, only to discover that everything from the waist down was numb and unresponsive.
Crawling would have to do,
Pitaya dragged themself across the dusty ground, littered with ruins, shattered weapons, cookie crumbs, and dried jam. Sharp debris scraped against their body as they moved.
Every inch hurt.
Every breath burned.
They had no destination in mind.
Dragon Valley was likely gone.
The Mala Tribe...
The Tofu Tribe
Pitaya froze.
Their claws dug deeper into the dirt.
No.
Thinking about the dead would not get them anywhere.
They pushed forward.
Crawling.
Clawing.
Dragging themself onward.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until, eventually, they reached the depths of a forest.
There, hidden among ancient trees, stood a portal.
The structure stood firm amidst the wilderness, moss creeping across its weathered stone frame and blending seamlessly with the towering trees around it. Cracks etched its surface from years of enduring the elements, while a violet glow pulsed softly from its center.
The light crackled like fire.
Inviting.
Tempting.
Promising escape.
A chance to disappear.
A chance to never be seen like this again.
Pitaya stared at it for a long moment.
What waited on the other side?
Allies?
Enemies?
They did not know.
Of course they didn't.
They were never the brightest star among their kin. Others were praised for their intelligence, elegance, beauty, pride, and grace.
And Pitaya?
- Brute.
- Savage.
- Monster.
- Beast.
- Muscle over brains.
The list went on.
At first, they never cared.
Why should a dragon concern themself with the opinions of insignificant Cookies?
So they ignored it.
Until the defeat.
The loss against Hollyberry Cookie.
After that, the whispers became constant.
The kingdom mocked them relentlessly.
Their name became an insult.
Their defeat became a celebration.
Their weakness became a joke.
The other dragons heard it.
And joined in.
"How could you lose to a Cookie?„ , "Have you no pride?„ , "And here I thought you were stronger than Lychee. At least they can defeat a Cookie.„
It was humiliating.
To become a laughingstock to both the kingdom and your own kin.
To have legends twisted into ridicule.
One mistake.
That was all it took for everyone to reduce them to the dragon who had nearly been slain by a "mere" Cookie. Every triumph, every conquest, every feat that had earned them the title of the Legendary Red Dragon was cast aside and forgotten.
Pitaya lowered their gaze toward their battered body.
Jagged wings.
Cracked horns.
A half-severed tail.
Burned limbs.
A shattered gem.
What was left to return to?
Dragon Valley?
Lychee would likely finish what they had started.
And even if they didn't, the valley itself was probably nothing but ruins.
The Mala Tribe.
The Tofu Tribe.
Everyone was likely gone.
Turned into stone like the countless figures scattered across the wasteland.
Pitaya turned back toward the portal.
The violet glow seemed brighter now.
Warmer.
Beautiful.
Like a siren's song calling a sailor toward the sea.
Slowly, the dragon crawled toward it.
Their claws were cracked and broken, yet they continued.
One movement.
Then another.
And another.
Until they finally reached it.
Pitaya stretched out a trembling hand.
Touched the light.
And vanished.
As though they had never existed at all.
Deep within the forest, the wind stirred the leaves, sending them rustling through the trees.
Birds continued their songs.
Small animals scattered through the undergrowth.
The world carried on as if a legend had not vanished moments before.