Part 1 - Dragons don't Cry


A city lay wasted and blackened. Windows, in the sides of the tall buildings, were shattered to pieces and scattered on the street below. Crumbled walls of homes and burning shops were all that was left. Not a sound could be heard other then a crackle of flames or failing structures collapsing. No weeping cry of an orphaned child or faint screams for help from under the rubble. The only sign of life was a woman standing atop one of the skeletal structures looking down at the once prosperous roads.

The woman is obviously not human. Long silver hair dangled down to her elbows between two dull black wings folded tightly behind her. Armor covered her chest and shoulders while her arms and legs were bare. Her cold, luminescent blue eyes left their gaze at the streets, up to the ash filled clouds above. It was hard to tell by the expression on her face if she was ready to laugh or break into tears, though soon her stern glare broke into a look of sorrow.

“What did I do?...” a tear dropped off her chin but no more followed after. “Why did I do this?”. There was no one nearby that could answer her questions. Only herself and she knew the answer. “I wanted this. It's my fault. I killed them all”. She looked at her hands which were still warm from the power she had used. “ This isn't what I want now.. I want to take this back..” she fell to her knees whimpering to herself. The sword she carried at her side glowed almost as though it was enjoying her pain. The ash hovering in the sky has just begun to fall, beginning to blanket the ruined city. Thunder in the distance suggested rain was coming later that night. Her surroundings reflected her emotions almost perfectly. She stood up. “Dragons do not cry..” she told herself as if remembering a line that had been repeated to her several times over.

Amongst the falling ash, a small white feather drifted to her shoulder. Surprised she looked over, she did not expect anything so pure to be left. She examined it for a bit before deciding to keep it. She tucked it away in a pouch on her belt. Shortly after, a footstep creaked the mostly destroyed stairs leading to her rooftop. She ducked behind a large broken piece of wood and thought to herself. Who could possibly have survived?