Scream stood on the peak of a mountain in the Black Mountains. Looking south. Over the Gray Hills. He had landed to sleep. Even dragons had to sleep. Something that only made him angry. By sleeping, he couldn’t watch the village. A village in the Southern Plains. Where there was a special little girl. A girl that played a flute. A girl that made Scream happy. Made the anger that he felt fade away. Put out the fire in his blood. I tiny fairy girl. Named Musica.
A fairy girl gifted with Wild Magic.
Scream would not let the fairies destroy her. He would protect her. No matter what it took. No matter who he had to fight. He would protect this child. This Musica.
Scream woke with the rising of the sun. And when he woke, he screamed. A scream that split the sky. That would be heard in the Gray Hills. That would remind everyone that he was there. Watching. That he would strike again if they abandoned another child. Sentenced another that was blessed with wild magic to death.
Scream knew all about wild magic. The dragons had long ago accepted it. And it had spread. First in just a few young dragons. But over time, it grew. And now, every dragon was gifted with it. Wild magic. Scream had his own wild magic. He used it every time he screamed.
Like that morning. When he screamed a second time. And the clouds along the horizon parted. Leaving the sky clear. So he could look at the Northern Plains. And the village where the child lived.