The Unfortunate Tale of Crackle the Dragon

The Unfortunate Tale of Crackle the Dragon. Part One: Crackle

The following is an adaption of a first hand account of events transpiring over the course of a week, as recorded on a recording gem by Crackle, the Dragon.

I stared into the distance, at where the phoenix nest laid, my mind churning. It was almost noon now, and I hadn’t slept for days. My muscles ached and my head throbbed, but there was no time for rest, not now. I released the breath of air I had been accidentally holding and scratched my side with my rear legs. On the opposite side of the crater, a puff of grey birds emerged from behind the glistening orange rim, dispersing into the sky. How the universe taunted me with such disturbing symmetry. With every blink, every time I dared to close my eyes, I saw the town of Coltfield burning. I saw ponies running, screaming for help, God, mercy. None of them were present. Only vengeance was there that day: the unyielding, unforgiving spirit that followed me to the very end.

. . .

It was almost a week ago, now, when it began. The Wing had settled on a large peak overlooking several valleys, to spend the night while some stragglers from another clan caught up. The Emerald Clan, to which I and my family belonged, was perched on the east face, near the tree line. There were maybe a hundred to each clan, of which there was the Emerald, Sapphire, Ruby, and Diamond. All were participating in the Great Migration. Though my family did not fully belong to the clan, as there was no blood relation, I felt safer there than I had in my earlier years. For the first seventeen years of my life, my family moved around a lot. Though my parents would never admit it, my sister Bluster and I always knew it was for two reasons. First of all, we looked strange. My mother carried a strong gene that granted disproportional wings and multiple limbs, though physically they were hardly a handicap. But second, and perhaps the primary reason, there existed my cousin, Fizzle.

Fizzle resembled me and my sister in a way, but was roughly half my height, and was born lacking rear legs. In addition to this, he was mentally retarded, which did not rob him of his independence, but he could not form words, read, or participate in many basic social functions. Though I don’t know the full story, I know that Fizzle was the child of my mom’s sister, and her father, who sexually abused both of them. That’s as much as Bluster can ever recall mom saying about it. Of course no one besides us knew that, but the signs of inbreeding were clear in Fizzle’s disability. Dragon culture, holding above all else civility, nobility, and superiority over other species, naturally rejected “lesser” members of society in cases like this. We were lucky to have found the Emerald Clan.

The sunset was beautiful. The orange blur of sun rippled down into the distant mountains, and all the sky, it seemed, was covered in a deep purple for an instant, before dissipating into the milky night stars. Underneath the small overhang where my family slept, my mother, father, and Bluster were already asleep. Fizzle lay on the ground, pushing at a pile of lavender leaves with his snout. He breathed heavily, sending the pile wildly into the air. Trying to catch them, he flapped his wings to get a few feet off the ground, but dropped shortly after, tumbling head over tail before my feet. I looked down at him, smiling. He looked at me, his eyes never quite focusing, and nuzzled at my chest humming softly. One could relate it to a cat’s purr, though his voice didn’t really resonate. He was warm, a pleasant contrast from the rapidly dropping night breezes.

I loved Fizzle. I still do, and I like to think he knows it. But now I’m not sure any of it matters. I bit him by the skin of his neck and placed him gently next to Bluster. He tried crawling towards me, but we both knew full well that it was his bed time. I nudged him back into my sister, who was now beginning to wake up. Still, he persisted. Then I noticed, however, that he wasn’t crawling towards me, but towards the pile of scattered purple leaves. How his attention wavered. I gently picked one up and placed it at his feet. He bit into it whole heartedly, and went to sleep shortly after. For as much as I took care of him, Fizzle was the closest thing I ever had to a friend. The rest of my family was as loving as any dragon could be, but I always felt a deeper connection with Fizzle, like a more concrete understanding. Whenever I felt depressed or lost or anxious, he was always there to smile dumbly, and be as happy as any soul as innocent as his could be.

I was still very much awake, so I decided to take a walk into the forest. The moon was full tonight, and its entourage of stars was in full view, happily lighting my way. The trees, bathed in moonlight, shone a silvery blue color that comforted me from the dropping temperature. All around, crickets, owls, birds, and other wildlife sounded gently into a lulling cadence. I walked down the mountain for almost half an hour before I heard something else. Perhaps fifty feet from me, branches cracked under heavy footsteps. They were growing closer, and I could then hear muffled voices. With a mix of fear and curiosity, I hid in a large bush as they approached still. It was a group of four dragons, around my age. They were also going down the mountain, talking about a town. Of course now I know they were referring to the pony village at the base of the mountain.

With more curiosity than fear, I followed them as stealthily as I could for around half a mile. Apparently I got too close, because their leader, who I later found was named Garble, stopped abruptly, and let out a belch of fire that illuminated the area, revealing me behind a bush. We saw each other, and my face went cold with sweat, colder than the night air. We saw each other through foliage.

“Hey!” one of them called out.

“Who’s there?” said another.

“I think it’s Crackle”

“Cracker? Who’s Cracker?”

“Not Cracker, Crackle! That weird dude with the gems.”

“Oh yeah!”

“Hey Crackle! That you? Come out of there man!”

I didn’t move at first, still in shock about being found out. Eventually though, I stepped through the brush and walked towards them, weary. I recognized them now. They were in the Sapphire Clan. We had met briefly a month ago during initiation into the Wing. There was Garble, the fat grey one, the blonde purple one, and Leon, the scrawny yellow one.

“I knew it was you!” Garble exclaimed. “I recognize those horns anywhere. Our parents are in the same hunting group.” He explained to the others.

“Come on Garbs, let’s ditch this loser. We’ve got things to do!”

“Now hold on.” The red dragon said, holding his arm up. “Maybe Crackle here might want in on some this. Whadaya say, Crack?”

The invitation seemed odd, to say the least. I was hardly ever invited to socialize, ever. I only hung out with a few people besides my family, so to be invited to hang out with the “cool” dragons came as a shock. Though would soon learn his intentions, their intentions, were not entirely sincere. I stammered out a “S-sure” and we ventured down the mountain. Soon the sleeping, dimly lit town was in sight, nestled into the heart of the valley, adjacent a river. What came next, I do take some responsibility for. I could have stopped it, and ended it then and there. But understand I had no intentions of hurting anyone.