~The rain was falling heavily; blood ran into the stream, infecting it. Corpses littered the once peaceful forest floor. Screams, war cries and the roar of beasts filled the air, yet muffled somehow by the rain.

Two Titans clashed, anger and hatred boiling over. Both fighting to succeed, both fighting to survive.

Fanish, against Uralgen; fire against all else. Slowly, but surely the fire was beginning to consume.

Titan's skirmish, which was the name too quickly assigned to this fight, turned into Titan's massacre as bodies piled on either side. However, the Fanish were emerging victorious.

Sparks, the youngest of the assassins, was fighting on the Uralgen side. After all, he was secretly one of them. No one knew his name in that fight, no one knew his face. The bite of his poison tipped arrows and his tall, lithe frame that ghosted past them was all the enemy ever really knew.

He had only one job, protect the clan. Naturally this meant protecting the king first. Unlike Elven kings that hid in their forests during a fight, Dragon kings came armed to the teeth and fought for their people.

They both danced around each other, fire kissing the enemy just before the punch of lightening. Nothing could stop them, or so it seemed.

While Sparks' back was turned, engaging in a particularly large bird-like creature, the king was felled. His roar of pain ripped all hope from the air; the loss could almost be tasted. He was run through, the blade glistened with his blood. The light quickly left his eyes. This fight was almost over.

All the Uralgen's cried out, pained from seeing their strong rock fall. They all entered a sort of berserker mode, no longer caring if they lived or died. Each warrior was determined to take as many to the grave as they could.

Sparks however, had a mission.

He ran faster than lightening towards the entrance of a cave, not to far from where he was. In this cave was the entire reason his family lie dead in that forest. This cave led to the Uralgen's underground tunnel system, one kept secret since its inception. Everything of any amount of importance was kept in a room; these rooms were only accessible by way of the tunnels. Thousands of years of knowledge, power and wealth was hidden and protected underneath the Earth. The Fanish wanted it, they were killing for it. They would never find it.

"No," Sparks gasped, not from exertion but from despair.

Littering the floor of this particular room was the bodies of children not yet old enough to fight. They were hidden, but someone must have betrayed the clan; only an Uralgen could enter, it was designed that way. Sparks checked through all the rooms, finding only death.

There was only one more room to check, but his heart was heavy.

"You have a job to do!" He reprimanded himself. It still took him a long moment to open the door.

Two small children, not more then three years old, huddled together near the body of a woman who was obviously dead. She must have been the mother, probably used a spell to hide her pips just before she was slain.

"Hi, I'm Sparks." He said, crouching down next to the little boy and girl, removing his mask. "What's your name?"

"I'm Tomt." The boy, a teeny little thing, whispered. "This is my sister, Saruma." She hugged Tomt, hiding her face. "Don't come no closer! I'll hurt you." He held up two fists, shaking them with mock bravado.

Sparks chuckled, "I'm not going to hurt you. Was this your mother?" He motioned to the woman. There was something familiar about her but he couldn't place it.

They both nodded.

He examined her closely, trying to remember where he knew her from.

"Camiline." Sparks breathed. His old mentor; he always bragged that he'd be the next assassin. She always reminded him how impossible that was, and how hard he'd have to work. After all, before him, the last assassin was chosen an age ago. "Just as beautiful as the day I left you."

Sparks returned his mask and took the children, running towards the one person he knew could help.

The bloody splash of his steps echoed throughout the tunnel.

After a few minutes they arrived at the exit. Sparks breathed onto the stone, unlocking it. With a mighty groan, it rolled away to reveal a small cottage overlooking the Valley of the Moon.

Sparks knocked on the door, he frowned at the blood staining the wood. He seemed so out of place in this peaceful world.

"Oh my." An older woman opened the door and gasped. Sparks knew this woman long before he ever became an assassin. He would often times come to her little reprieve to escape the troubles of the world. "I hope this is a friendly visit." She noticed the children covered in gore in his arms. "Come in, quickly!" She ushered them to the cozy seating area.

"These children are the only survivors from the tunnels. They are the last of our kind." Sparks breathed, exhausted. He set them onto the cushions; his heart nearly stopped when he realized that Tomt, the brave little boy, was dead. "No." Tears streamed under his mask. These two had to live, they were Uralgen's last hope of ever regaining themselves. They were the Champions.

"You must be Sparks, I heard you would be fighting. Your electricity, most likely caused by your stress, must have killed him." She wiped the blood off Tomt's cheek with the gentleness of a mother. "Such a pity for one so young to taste death."

"What's this?" Sparks held up what appeared to be a dragon egg, however it was cold and lifeless.

"Oh that there? He was going to be a beautiful addition to this sometimes cruel world, but things don't always go according to plan." 

He set the egg next to Tomt, an idea forming.

"You better not be doing what I think you are." The woman, whom Sparks knew to be Amoroth, warned.

"I was sent here to complete a mission."

"That sounds awfully like something an old ankle biter once said when he declared to be the next assassin. Haven't seen him since the day he set out." She warned.

"Death before failure." Sparks cupped his hands above Tomt, collecting his tiny soul that still lingered. It shone dimly between his fingers. Then he carefully placed the soul into the egg along with his own energy.

After several minutes Sparks' skin began to split. He screamed from the searing pain, causing the girl, Saruma, to wake up crying. Just before the room became cold and dim for the assassin, the egg exploded, revealing a shaky white and brown dragon. The force of the explosion sent Sparks flying back; he vanished, transporting himself far away, in order to avoid being unmasked.

"No child!" Amoroth yelled. Behind her Saruma had stopped crying and was examining this new Tomt. They both stared at each other, not sure what to do. "Isn't he beautiful?" She said to the little girl, trying to cheer her up.

"Thomt?" Saruma asked, petting his head.

He squeaked happily, his whole body wiggling back and forth. They began to run around the room, unaware of the calamity that had taken place.

Amoroth looked back to where Sparks had vanished. Her eyes were sad as she hoped desperately that the young assassin would recover from his sacrifice.

2: Hunting

~Snow fell gracefully from the sky, covering the floor of Death Valley. The trees bowed over from the weight, a small stream quietly bubbled in the distance as it was not yet affected by winter. A small pack of deer roamed, nibbling on scraps of grass. Only a few birds dared stay this late in the year; they were quiet souls.
Saruma raised her bow and notched an arrow. Behind her Tomt poised, ready to pounce; his wings raised slightly in anticipation. She brought knuckle to cheek just like she was always taught. Her breath steadied as she prepared to take the shot.
The arrow flew from her grasp, exploding in its power towards the deer. It flew past the creatures head and disappeared into the cave she was desperately hoping to avoid.
"Not funny." She grumbled, kicking snow up onto Tomt's snout.
He snorted, rolling onto his back to laugh. His wing nearly knocked her over.
A loud snarl erupted from the cave making Saruma and Tomt freeze. Emerging from the entrance was a giant black bear, engraged from being woken.
"Time to run!" Tomt flipped over and let Saruma scramble onto his back before bolting forward.
He lept up, nearly hitting the trees around them. Saruma smacked his neck after regaining her balance. Tomt desperately continued tripping through the forest, trying to find an opening large enough to take flight in.
A little too late he realized that they were coming up on a cliff. The trees were still too close for him to risk spreading his massive wings.
Tomt twisted his body around, his momentum kept pushing him towards the edge. He clawed onto the rocks, trying to find hold, however his legs weren't strong enough.
Saruma screamed as Tomt roared. With a twist he tried to right himself before hitting the ground. To make matters worse, they fell high enough that it'd kill them both, but just low enough that Tomt's wing gently grazed the snow when he finally became upright.
They circled upwards in search of the bear. It was growling near the edge, just pacing back and forth.
Saruma notched another arrow, she blew a gust of air towards the tip. Crackling could be heard while streaks of blue ran from her fingers to the tip.
This time the arrow found its mark deep into the behemoth's neck. It shuddered, temporarily paralized.
Tomt extended his front claws and dived gracefully. He snatched up the bear and snapped its neck before causing it too much pain.
"It's a good thing you were born an Air Master, else we'd be doomed." Saruma sighed, situating herself more comfortably on the small leather saddle.
"You try being a dragon all the time! It's not as easy as it looks."
The air was crisp, forcing Saruma to wrap her cloak tighter around her. Down below, the world looked peaceful, asleep. A small clearing could be seen just off in the distance, this was where they were headed. Around the clearing was a ceiling of snow, completely blocking the sight of their home.
He circled around before landing in the clearing Amoroth had made for them. She took care of them most of their life, though she never tried to hide their painful past. Many late nights were filled with fragrances, teas and stories of their clan.
"We should skin this out here, Amoroth hates seeing the gore." Saruma pulled out her knife and begane cutting the skin along its belly.
It took several hours to fully extract the pelt, simply from the bears massive size; she threw the organs to Tomt which he happily slurped up, making her stomach lurch from the sound.
They walked back to the beautiful little cottege Amoroth built with her own hands several Ages ago. Saruma practically dragged the pelt over to her makeshift tanning rack. She drapped it over and stretched, her back sore from the weight.
Tomt dropped the bear into the smoke pit. He kicked the woodchips on top, then gently packed it in, covering everything.
Saruma threw the logs in and took several steps back.
Tomt grinned, then opened his maw, showing off rows of sharp teeth.
Fire spewed out, filling the pit. Flames licked over the sides and curled back into the masses. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
Tomt made a smacking sound as he rid the taste of gas from his mouth.
"The spoils of war?" Amoroth came out laughing. "How in the world did you find a bear in this icy season?" She wrapped her robes tighter around her.
"Saruma woke him up when she missed the deer not ten paces in front of her."
"Yeah well you fell over a cliff! World's clumsiest dragon I tell you!" They faced off, both trying to stare the other one down.
Amoroth shook her head, her brown hair caresing her shoulders. She was a Nature Master, and like most of her kind, she was extremely peaceful. It was hard to get them to fight, but when they did, they were often the most powerful.
She walked over to the trunk of an old, unusual tree. "You accidently burned the roof again." With a single touch, the tree's branches began to grow and twist around, repairing the hole. "Unless you want to sleep on the snow?" She winked at Tomt.
He pawed the ground nervously.