Hivewing Wings of Fire

This is a Hivewing from wings of fire. It takes five-ish hours to print on standard speed. It is a highly detailed dragon. It goes perfect with my Cicada Hive model. (Check it out on my profile) Thank you all of my followers for making this happen! Happy Printing! FIRST COMMENT GETS TO CHOOSE THE NEXT WINGS OF FIRE DRAGON!

Chapter 2

Jade Mountain was bigger than Sandpiper had imagined.

She circled once above the valley, wings trembling with exhaustion and nerves, staring at the enormous mountain rising out of the jungle like a stone claw hooked into the sky. Waterfalls spilled down its sides in silver ribbons, and steam drifted from hidden caves near the top.

So many dragons.

They were everywhere—gliding through the air, landing on ledges, clustering near the 

entrance tunnels. Sandpiper spotted flashes of color she’d never seen outside of stories: RainWings shifting hues as they laughed together, a pair of SilkWings whose wings glimmered like sunlight through crystal, and a massive MudWing hauling a crate nearly the size of Sandpiper herself.

Her heart hammered.

This was a terrible idea.

This was the best idea she’d ever had.

She angled her wings and descended toward the main ledge, landing harder than she meant to. Her talons scraped stone, and she stumbled forward, tail barb scraping behind her.

Smooth, Sandpiper. Very impressive first landing.

She folded her wings quickly and tried not to look like she wanted to dive back into the ocean and hide forever.

A NightWing dragonet zipped past her, laughing loudly, followed by an IceWing who looked deeply unimpressed by everything. Sandpiper pressed herself closer to the rock wall, suddenly aware of every uneven scale and mismatched glow stripe on her body.

Hybrid.

The word crept back into her thoughts, unwelcome as ever.

“Hey!”

Sandpiper jumped so hard her stripes flashed bright blue.

A skywing stood nearby, watching her with curious amber eyes. He looked about her age, with glossy red scales and a scroll tucked under one wing.

“Uh—hi,” Sandpiper said, quickly dimming her stripes. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“That was impressive,” the Skywing said mildly. “You lit up like a lighthouse.”

Sandpiper groaned. “I didn’t mean to.”

He smiled slightly. “I’m Starling. You look new.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“You’re staring at everything like it might bite you,” Starling said. “First day?”

Sandpiper nodded. “I’m Sandpiper.”

“Nice to meet you, Sandpiper.” He glanced toward the entrance tunnels. “Orientation’s about to start. You should probably—”

A loud splash echoed from one of the pools carved into the stone.

“MOVE IT, DRAGONETS!”

Every head snapped toward the sound.

A large SeaWing hauled herself out of the water, scales gleaming deep blue, eyes sharp enough to cut stone. She shook water from her wings and glared at the gathered students like she was daring them to misbehave.

Sandpiper’s breath caught.

Tsunami.

The Dragonet of Destiny looked exactly like the stories—powerful, confident, and absolutely terrifying.

“If you’re standing around gawking,” Tsunami continued, “you’re in the way. New students to the left tunnel. Returning students, you know where to go.”

Dragons scrambled into motion.

Sandpiper froze.

Left tunnel. Left tunnel. That meant—

She bolted forward, nearly colliding with a SandWing and a LeafWing arguing loudly about schedules. The tunnel mouth loomed ahead, wide and shadowed.

As Sandpiper reached it, Tsunami’s gaze snapped to her.

“You,” Tsunami said.

Sandpiper skidded to a halt. Every stripe on her body threatened to flare.

“Yes?” she squeaked.

Tsunami’s eyes flicked over her—webbed talons, tail barb, glowing stripes that didn’t quite glow right.

“…SeaWing?” Tsunami said slowly.

“Sort of,” Sandpiper blurted. “I mean—half. I’m also SandWing. I have a scholarship. I didn’t sneak in. I swear.”

Tsunami blinked.

Then she snorted. “Relax. I don’t bite students. Usually.” She gestured with her wing. “You’re early. Good. Means you actually want to be here.”

Sandpiper nodded, heart pounding.

Tsunami paused, then added, “And for the record? Hybrids are welcome here. Anyone gives you trouble, they answer to me.”

Sandpiper stared.

“O-okay,” she said softly.

Tsunami turned away, already shouting at another group, but Sandpiper stood frozen for a moment longer.

She was welcome.

Inside the tunnel, the air was cool and damp. The path spiraled upward, lit by glowing crystals embedded in the walls. Sandpiper followed the group of new students, listening to overlapping voices, unfamiliar accents, laughter and arguments mixing together.

This place was loud.

It was chaotic.

It was perfect.

She brushed her claws against the stone, feeling the mountain’s steady presence beneath her. Somewhere above, classes waited. Teachers. Knowledge. Languages she didn’t understand yet—but would.

Sandpiper lifted her head, wings tingling with excitement.

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t hiding in a tidepool cavern, wishing she were someone else.

She was a student of Jade Mountain Academy.

And her story was just beginning.