The Hall of Sacrul rumbled with the low growl of dragons. Fourteen great beasts sat in their true forms around a dais made of deepstar stone, a mineral said to have fallen from the bones of dying stars. Each dragon revealed its true form in silent contest, the weight of their might pressing against the air. Heat shimmered between them, an invisible storm of pride and restrained carnage.
At the head sat Segrenry, her crimson scales alive with molten light. Her dragonian ruby eyes mirrored every flicker in the chamber. She rested forward upon a vast woven mat of gold-threaded wyrmhide, edged with lapis tassels and inlaid runes that pulsed faintly, resistant even to her heat. One claw tapped idly against the marbled floor, the sound echoing like a heartbeat through the Hall.
To her right sat Huverdra, radiant and composed, his golden scales alive with the quiet hum of power. Once, they had been the envy of all Adistaktos . The Destructive Pair of House Rostrag, a union of brilliance and ruin. He was the light that caressed Segrenry's devouring flame, the calm that beautified her fury.
But today, a shadow coiled between them.
Every dragon present sensed the fracture. Something must have happened, they thought to themselves.
"—they've defied us again," growled the White Dragon, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. "The mortals of Elkar Dominion burned our sigils and named our tribute unjust. They preach of rebellion, and even now, gather strength. Such foolish creatures." he spat. "What could they hope to achieve"
"And they've forged weapons," hissed the Violet Matriarch, talons tracing slow circles in the air. "Steel from the heart of fallen stars. Their priests claim it can pierce dragonhide."
She laughed lightly. A slow smile unfurled across her serpentine lips, cold and deliberate "Perhaps I should volunteer mine. Wouldn't that be… enlightening?"
Her eyes, twin pools of violet-gold, shimmered with delighted lunacy.
"Let them try," Segrenry said softly, her lips curling. Her voice pulsed over the flames that lit the hall. "They'll melt before they draw breath."
The chamber rippled with amusement until the Black Dragon leaned forward, eyes glinting as he observed Segrenry with pleasure. "Perhaps then," he purred, "you should send your youngest, Lady Segrenry. The one with the... repulsive green hair."
The air thinned.
Huverdra's head snapped toward him, gold light flickering beneath his skin. "Choose your words carefully."
"Oh, I mean no insult," the Black Dragon said, feigning innocence. "It's only that her strength is… untested. Surely, if your blood is true, she can handle a few mortal insects."
A few dragons chuckled. The sound was cruel — low, hissing, psychopathic, dangerous.
"She is but a child," Segrenry said coldly. Her claws dug into the ground. "My *guards* could raze their kingdom before your hatchlings even find their wings."
"Still," murmured the Rosate Elder, lips curling, her tone sluggishly venomous, "there are whispers, Red Queen. That House Rostrag's flame gutters low. A golden mate lost… and a hatchling born wrong, they say."
The hall went silent.
Segrenry rose, every motion steeped in majesty. Red flames unfurling from her wings like banners of war. "Say that again" she breathed, a whisper edged in rage "you barren wretch."
The elder only smiled, undeterred . "Perhaps the mortals need a different reminder of Adistaktos' power.In the meantime, do train your brood. We've long given up on the younger one, but perhaps the first might prove… less disappointing."
"Enough of these meaningless squabbles," The dragon with scales mingled white and blue, like frost over deep water, rumbled, his voice cutting through the hall like winter wind. He was among the eldest of them all. "We will send our grown progeny to subdue the mortals, not the fledglings. Their time will come.
Segrenry shall send her guard as pledged, since she exalts their might.
This council is dismissed."
The dragons took to the air, wings unfurling in a storm of power. The ceiling, woven with age-old enchantments, groaned and split apart, yielding to their ascent. Through the widening rift, they soared into the open sky.
In moments, the sky above Adistaktos burned with color as each turned toward their distant palace.
*****
When the meeting ended, the corridors of the Palace of Flames trembled under her fury. Servants fled from her gaze, every action quiet, calculated to avoid attention. Gold chandeliers rattled. By the time Segrenry burst through her doors, her hair was unbound, eyes molten with rage.
Little Valia was in the courtyard, her dark hair tipped in green that shimmered faintly under light. She had been playing quietly with a phoenix feather, tracing light on the stones.
The moment she saw her mother, she froze.
"Out of my sight," Segrenry hissed to the guards. "Now."
The guards withdrew quickly, servants fleeing in every direction.
Segrenry strode forward, slow and precise, her heels striking the floor in a rhythm that felt almost ritualistic. "Would you look at that," she said softly, voice dripping disdain. "Even your breath betrays your weakness."
Valia blinked, as she stared at Segrenry blankly. "Mother, goo—"
The slap came like a blur, sharp, heavy and blazing. Valia hit the marble hard, her cheek searing under her mother's scalding palm.
"Do you know what they say?" Segrenry whispered, kneeling beside her, voice low as smoldering embers, "That I, the great Red Queen, birthed a creature of shame. They speak that my line rots from within."
Her hand seized Valia's chin, nails biting into skin and forcing her head up until their eyes met.
"Your sister was born wrapped in flame of her dragon scales— she split mountains before she learned words, a true heir of Adistaktos. But you…" Her gaze flicked to the green-tinged ends of Valia's hair. "You parade that sickly green like a crown, a banner of your weakness for all to see. Born soft, born human, not a scale in site. Tell me, creature, was my glory not enough for you to ruin?"
"You gave birth to me," Valia started, rage in her gaze "I didn't choose—"
"Silence!"
A second blow cracked through the air. Somewhere beyond the hall Valia's caretaker cried out, but did not dare come closer. Segrenry's gaze cut across the room and she spoke without turning.
"Get this abomination out of my sight before I tear her apart with my own hands."
The caretaker obeyed at once, scooping the fevered Valia into her arms and stumbling from the chamber.
*****
Days later, the cruelty deepened.
Qerev'nrys, strutted into the courtyard, clutching a silken robe — Valia's robe, the one her caretaker had woven. She dangled the garment before her face with deliberate insolence.
"It's mine now," she said with a smirk.
Valia lunged forward. "It's not, you little brat! Give it back—"
Valia shoved Qerev'nrys to the ground as she snatched the fabric from her sister's clutches. That was when Segrenry appeared in the archway, her eyes flaring wide at the scene.
"What is this disgrace?" Her regal voice cut the air.
"She tried to take what's mine, Mother," Qerev'nrys said, feigning innocence, hiding the laughter trembling at the edge of her lips.
Segrenry's gaze turned on Valia. "Is that true?"
Valia's flinched, her lips quivered as she answered. "It was mine, Mother. She—"
Before the words finished, Segrenry's claw shot out. The sound that followed was a single, shattering crack.
Valia screamed, clutching her arm, her breath torn from her chest.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Segrenry stood over her daughter, her face unreadable, then quietly, she said, "Perhaps pain will teach you truth where you stand."
Huverdra's voice echoed faintly from the adjoining chamber. "Enough, Segrenry. We've not gotten together since our separation and now you waste my time on unimportant things."
Her head turned, slow, venomous. "Stay out of this, Verdra," she hissed, pressing her temple as if warding off a headache. "You left her in my care, remember? She is my blood, and I will shape her as I see fit."
She turned on her heel, sauntering toward Huverdra's chamber, every movement deliberate. Swaying her hips with unbothered grace.
Behind her, the caretaker darted forward to tend to Valia. Dragons healed swiftly, but the pain was still very human.