Curved Swords (Story)

Prologue
10 Years Ago...

A gust of wind propelled Shrub through the air, as she drifted over the thatched rooftops. Her dusty brown scales were illuminated by the bright moon shining overhead.

It was night.

Shrub never liked the night. At least, she didn't like what happened in the night.

A shadow flitting over head.

A scream.

A thunk.

Silence.

In the morning light, a dragon, hung against the side of an alleyway, blood pouring out of it's neck.

Yes, the night was never a good thing for dragons. Especially not dragons like Shrub.

The Hybridslayers.

It certainly wasn't an original name, but dragons weren't exactly known for their imagination. It was a name created by a dragon - which dragon, no one knew - a dragon who had connected the dots of each murder.

Again and again and again, until it happened too many times for it to be a coincidence.

They were after the hybrids.

They were killing the hybrids.

But they weren't afraid of killing anyone who got in their way.

That was proven when, one morning, they stumbled upon a pure SandWing, mouth open in a snarl as if about to attack, lying dead in front of a hybrid's body, both oozing blood.

The SandWing had been protecting the hybrid, and got killed.

Suddenly, their small world just got a whole lot scarier.

Hybrids were shunned. Doors were shut. Glares and whispers and suddenly, normal dragons were attacking them. No, they weren't killing them, at least, not on purpose. It started small: stolen food here, a push there.

And then it escalated.

Pouncing, grabbing their possesions, and running; stabbing their wings with their venomous barbs...

Snap.

The hybrid's neck flopped sideways, as a SandWing stood over them, triumphant.

Silence.

Then everyone dissolved into cheers.

It became a sport. A counting number. Soon, dead bodies were appearing left and right, in night or day.

Shrub couldn't go outside without being attacked.

She had the stump on her tail to prove it.