Curse of the Wraith Part One

I sat there, nurturing the newborn dragons as they poked their heads out of the broken shells one by one. I giggled as a baby Skrill sneezed, sending a small frizzle of electricity. SeaGulper flinched slightly, blinking away the brightness of the violet stream. The doors burst open with a laugh and a roar. I sighed, looking at the entryway.
"Snotlout," I said as calmly as I could, "Snotlout, what do you want?" He looked around with an air of pride. Hookfang roared softly as the newborns cooed. He picked up a small dragon by the stomach, holding it like a child would hold a cat.
"Snotlout, seriously, I don't have time to goof around," I said with the slightest hint of a smile as the infant Thunderdrum licked his nose.
"I'm looking for a new trainee," he said matter-of-factly. I sighed, looking up at Hookfang, who returned the exhausted expression.
"But what about Hookfang?" I say pointing to the large Monstrous Nightmare. Snotlout laughed deeply.
"The more the merrier, Freydah," he said, winking. I scoff and laugh simultaneously, creating sort of a choking sound.
"As fun as that sounds... I just don't think these babies are ready to be trained yet. After all, they're no more than a few hours old. You should wait a month or two for them to fully develop their abilities," I say, wrapping a blanket around a baby Scauldron. SeaGulper nuzzled it with familiar respect, as if the child was his own. Snotlout laughed harshly.
"You clearly don't grasp the concept of dragon training, newcomer. Train what you can, when you can," he said, looking me in the eyes. My knees wobbled slightly; I never really liked confrontation.
"Alright, let me see what older dragons are waiting to be trained. Those ones, at least, have developed as much as possible at their age. Alright?" I ask, looking through a journal of what dragons I had over two months old. "Ah, here. Take your pick out of these few," I said, holding up a page with only a few different dragons, one of which being a Terrible Terror. The others clearly weren't up to his standards, as he sneered with disgust.
"You expect me to train these runts?" he snickered. I sighed with growing anger as I picked up a black bound book my grandfather gave me when he died. "You REALLY don't understand dragon training, Frey-Dumb."
That did it. That really did it. I was beyond furious, and without hesitation, I opened the book of spells, ready to turn that rascal Snotlout into a lug worm. I read a spell, eyes burning with angry passion. He backed up slightly, seemingly afraid.
"H-hey, no need to get angry.. Heh heh, it was just a joke! C-come on, Freydah, don't be like that..." he whimpered. It was the first time I'd ever see him remotely afraid. Hookfang flew off, knowing trouble was about to brew. Surprisingly, SeaGulper followed. I turned my attention back to Snotlout.
"Eye of newt and dead fish skin
Release the monster you hide within
Monstrous heart and writhing soul
Revealed so all around behold!" I screamed, translating it from the old runic language my grandfather spoke. Before I go on, I feel the need to explain that my grandfather was Gordric the Weaver, an Elder Shaman from the village of Fiernick. The magic surrounded Snotlout, he screamed with pain and transformation. I backed away, scared of what I'd just done.
"Oh gods, oh gods, what did I just do...?" I whimper slightly, looking around for something to fix it. Snotlout's body grew and deformed, his clothed becoming outstretched and tight. His skin became the color of a burning peach-fruit. He cried for help as his face became a flatly rounded snout. His hair bent back and became spikes from the back of his head. His helmet fell off, sending a clanking sound to the ground.
The hatchlings squeaked with fear as wings burst from Snotlout's back. Short, black spikes grew from the wings' bones. I screamed and stumbled backwards. The final spurt of his transformation was a long tail with crescent shaped spines at the tip. He roared in confusion, looking over his body.
"I...Snotlout, is that you...?" I said, reaching out to the Sand Wraith. He growled angrily, snorting. I backed off, pulling a mirror from the wall. I held it up to him and his eyes widened with shock.
He roared at me first with anger, then with fear and helplessness. I reached to him again, this time with better results.
"I'm sorry, Snotlout...I didn't...I didn't know this would happen," I say solemnly. He seemed to understand, as he softly bumped my stomach with his head.