"Father!  Father!"  Mirage's odd looking 6 year old hybrid daughter ran into their hut, breathless. 

"By the moons, Cinder!  What is it?" He asked.

"Something happened across town, Father!" Cinder panted.  "There was roaring and a whole whack of blood!"

Mirage grabbed a messy bundle of bandages from the shelf next to him.  "Take me there."

Cinder quickly lead him across town, to an awful scene.  A strange dark coloured SandWing dragonet was laying in a puddle of blood, and two more dragons, a SandWing and a NightWing, were flopped nearby.  Those two were dead, but the dragonet was breathing. 

Mirage flapped over and pressed his talons onto the dragonet's cut—a huge, sickening laceration running from his chest to just under his throat.  The dragonet groaned, and Cinder peered curiously at him, before Mirage waved her away.  Mirage wrapped the bandages tightly around the dragonet's neck and chest, and then lifted him carefully onto his back, bringing him back to the hut. 

Mirage gently set the unconscious dragonet down on one of the empty nests and stepped back with a sigh, precisely preparing a syringe to keep him sleeping a little while longer.  He injected the serum into the dragonet's wrist, and he fell still, peacefully sleeping. 

The next day, around noon, the dragonet woke up with a jolt, looking around wildly. 

"Calm down!" Cinder cried, waving her wings at him.  "You're alright!  You're safe here."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.  "Who are you?" He snapped.

"Cinder; my name's Cinder.  Yesterday there was an incident.  You were attacked—that's how to got that big cut."  He looked down, faintly surprised, as if he hadn't noticed. 

"...my parents?" He asked finally, his eyes dull. 

"The SandWing and NightWing that were with you?" Cinder asked, and he nodded.  She winced.  "I'm sorry.  They didn't make it."

The dragonet looked down at his talons, looking more angry than upset.  "Do you know who killed them?" He asked, his voice quivering.

"No," Cinder replied.  "Sorry.  What... what's your name?"

"Treason," he responded.

"Ooh, you seem troublesome," Cinder observed.  "I bet we'll get along fine!"

"Whatever," he growled.

A year later, though he was long healed, Treason was still living with Mirage and Cinder.  They'd kind of taken him into the family, since he had no one else.  Mirage saw that Cinder and Treason loved eachother, and he was happy for them, even though neither had said anything yet.  At least, not in front of Mirage, but why would they?

Things were great!  Business was soaring, and they were all happy and well-fed.  And then there was smoke, fire, pain... and Mirage was dead.