The Story and the Storyteller (Cancelled)

THE STAGE IS SET

THE CURTAIN RISES

THE GAME BEGINS

Posting Schedule Edit
I will be posting a new chapter every Sundays and Wednesdays (hopefully). If there are any setbacks or updates of the sort, I will include them here. But be sure to check in on the previously mentioned dates for new chapters every week. Signing off for now, enjoy the story.

Wishing you bright nights and clear stars,

Prince Starsplitter of the Nightwings.

Dedication Edit
Oh but wait, there's more. I would like to dedicate this to Stardust for giving me the inspiration and the push to create this. It was awesome the fanfic that you did about Solace. You also helped me a lot with coding and such that I didn’t even know, and I’ve been on the wiki longer! This whole thing is for you. But everyone else can read it. But, I mean, I made it because of... for... never mind.

Chapter 1: Fearless
Fire roared around him, and icebreath shot dragons out of the sky.

Fearless rushed into the danger, living up to his name. He had a job to do, and this war wasn’t going to stop him from doing it. His med pack banged against him as he flew to a fallen comrade.

“Questseeker!”, he yelled. “Hold still.” Fearless slid in next to Questseeker and began melting the ice off of his leg. Frost bite had already gotten to his foot, and Fearless knew they’d have to amputate it. He was dragging Quest back to the trenches when a crossbow bolt slammed into his shoulder, and then was followed by two more, one slamming into his leg, and the other hitting him in the neck. His eyes glazed over, and he collapsed to the coarse dirt on the battlefield. He tried to process how to heal himself, but it was no use. He was going to die.

Fearless was dimly aware of soldiers dragging him and Questseeker back to the trenches, then pulling them to the healing tents. Fearless was laid on a hard bed and doctors moved around him. Suddenly, a shadow blocked the doorway, and all the doctors crowding around Fearless dropped into a bow. “What are you doing here, my lord?”, one of the doctors asked.

A deep, resonant voice rang out. “The palace got boring. I figured a war would be a little more fun. Oo, that guy looks like he could use me”, the voice said, indicating Fearless bleeding out on the operating table.

“With all due respect, sir”, the doctor said. “The war is no place for a prince. And this dragon needs a real doctor.

The deep voice had a wry note to it. “You’re right. He needs a real doctor. It's a good thing I'm here. What are we looking at?”

The voice was coming closer, but it felt to Fearless like he was moving away. The doctor opened his mouth to reply, but the voice sighed. “That was a rhetorical question. I can see that he has three crossbow bolts, two to nonvital areas and one to a very vital area. He’ll die in 7.35 seconds if the bolt isn’t removed."

Fearless heard that and began to panic. “Oh,” said the voice. “Now it’s 4.87 seconds. Better get to work.”

Fearless felt a tugging in his neck, and gentle yet professional hands moved across his throat as the crossbow bolt was yanked loose. He screamed a bone-chilling, blood-curling scream, just before he blacked out. But before the darkness took him, he saw the blurred image of a dragon’s face standing over him. And then Fearless was lost in his unconscious.