Wings of Fire: Born in the Storm

Violet's POV – Within the SkyWing Palace

Violet stood outside the throne room doors, inhaling deeply as she prepared herself. Her posture was pristine—shoulders squared, wings slightly spread, just enough to make her appear larger without looking like she was trying. Strength and elegance in perfect balance. Scarlet had drilled that into her since she was a dragonet. A dragon should be both beautiful and terrifying, Scarlet had said. Powerful enough to command respect with a single glance.

She gave a small nod to the guard, who, without hesitation, pulled the heavy doors open.

Violet strode inside, her claws clicking against the polished floor. She moved with precision, each step deliberate, carrying herself with the poise Scarlet had forced into her. The moment she reached the foot of the throne, she lowered herself into a deep bow, keeping her eyes trained on the floor.

Scarlet had also taught her this. A proper bow, held exactly long enough to show deference but not so long that it seemed weak. As a dragonet, she had spent hours bent in this position, muscles aching, until Scarlet was satisfied that she could do it perfectly. Only then had she been allowed to stand beside her, playing the role of the queen's personal weapon.

It had been hard. But Scarlet only wanted her to be perfect.

A slow, indulgent hum drifted from the throne. Scarlet's voice followed, silky and laced with cruel amusement.

"You did well in the arena today." She leaned forward, talons resting lightly on the armrest. "It was thrilling to watch you kill those dragons so effortlessly. The way you tore through them—" She exhaled in mock delight. "Truly, art."

Violet's wings pressed tighter against her back. She had long since learned how to keep her expression still, her voice unwavering. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she said smoothly, still holding her bow.

Scarlet took a moment to examine her, tilting her head, studying every inch of her posture. Then, with a satisfied nod, she waved a dismissive claw.

"You may take your post."

Violet rose in one fluid motion, gliding toward the throne to stand beside it. A warrior. A bodyguard. A creation of Scarlet's own making.

And just as always, she played her part flawlessly.

Violet stood up, walking toward the silver tree where Glory was still splayed across it, seemingly asleep. But Violet could tell she was faking. She saw her peek at her, flinching slightly when their eyes met before quickly shutting them again. Violet simply looked at her. After Scarlet dismissed her from her duties, she would like to talk to the RainWing. Maybe she could tell her more about this prophecy. Maybe they could be friends. Since she wasn't on the pillar, she likely wouldn't be sent to the arena.

Violet shook her head, clearing her thoughts as she turned around and stood next to Scarlet's throne, holding herself as Scarlet had instructed. As dragons came in to greet the queen, fulfilling her queenly duties, Violet stood there, ready in case she saw any threat. As the day went on, her thoughts started to drift back to the fight. It had been exhilarating. She loved the challenge.

She felt powerful, like she belonged in battle—adrenaline pumping through her veins as she took down her enemies. But her thoughts started to drift toward the dragonets. What would happen if Scarlet made her fight one of them? Would she be able to kill them? Dragonets, just like her. Snooty, grown dragons were one thing, but dragonets? Not to mention what Tsunami had said back in the cave—about her supposedly helping them.