Claire stole through the camp on quick feet, passing within shadows unseen, unheard. It was the middle of the night. She hadn't slept more than a few hours before Saffra had woken her.

Somewhere near the camp's edge, Talon was meeting with the Dwargs, who had only just arrived that morning. He probably wouldn't notice her missing until dawn, perhaps later. Her heart ached when she thought of the pressure he was under.

Her Queen's Guard was dismissed each night, usually when she went flying with Talon. They would be furious upon discovering her missing. The phrase, 'better to ask for forgiveness than permission,' came to mind.

Her teeth clenched. She was a queen, for crying out loud! Shouldn't she be allowed to make decisions that went unquestioned? Shouldn't they trust her? Answering to so many others made her feel like a child. Did people question Talon's choices? Did they tell him 'no,' whenever he made up his mind to do something? She doubted it. Sure, he had years upon years of experience. But...she had the King Tree. If she'd learned anything, it was, don't disobey its will.

The paddock housing the unicorns came into view. They were free creatures, and the enclosure was merely a formality. They could jump the fence and return to the forest any time they wanted. It was mostly to keep prying eyes at a safe distance, really.

Tourmaline offered a quiet snicker and detached from the others when he saw her. All of them had chosen to stay, perhaps because Tourmaline had. Queen, he said by way of greeting, filling her mind with his calm voice.

She noticed it was never 'my queen.' But she was okay with that. He belonged to the forest, to Dragonwall, not to her.

Have you need of me?

I need to get to the dragons, she explained, to the lake. There's no time to lose. Can you take me?

Of course, he said. I am here to serve. Mostly, I am simply curious.

Because I'm getting into mischief?

Precisely, he concluded.

She smiled, holding her staff in one hand, climbing into the paddock. Tourmaline lowered and she got onto his back, situating herself comfortably, resting her staff across her thighs. For a unicorn like Tourmaline, there were no reins, no saddle. He stood and cantered forward. It was then that she frowned. I don't know the way, she realized, sending him the thought.

But I do. With that, he vaulted forward, picking up speed before lifting into the air, clearing the barrier with a giant leap. Around them, everything blurred in the darkness. When she glanced over her shoulder, not a single lone flame was visible.

In just a matter of seconds, they were already miles away.

Her stomach lurched. She was doing this! She was actually doing this.

A nervous laugh slipped from her lips. It was rather exciting, wasn't it? Doing something she felt strongly about, consequences be damned. She had no intention of giving up the ruse, of spoiling the plot, or risking all the carefully laid plans.

This would work. It had to work! She knew it would.

Tonight she wasn't Claire Evans, a girl from another world. She wasn't Talon's mate. She wasn't Dragonwall's future queen. No, tonight she was pure Sprite, queen of the forest. Her cloak fluttered around her and she pulled the hood up, further disguising herself.

It had been too easy, getting through camp with something that forced eyes to slide the other way. Even though there were a few sentries out at this time of night and guards around the perimeter. Tourmaline's magic for going unnoticed and her be-spelled cloak from Taylynn were no match for them.

She'd brought nothing with her, save her Spriten weapons. No food, no water, no comforts. There was no need. Not simply because she didn't intend to be gone for long, but because her training had taught her to move through the world singularly. She could grow the food she needed, find water when she thirsted. All those hours in the forest spent wandering, training with Pelwynn, had strengthened her into something other.

The darkness pressed in around them, the world nothing more than an indistinguishable blur. One hour slipped into two, and then three, and then four. She was alone with her thoughts. It gave her plenty of time to mull over what the King Tree had said. To consider how it aligned with what Saffra had told her. Even without dissecting it, she'd known the moment Saffra woke her, the moment Saffra had revealed her vision, what needed to be done.

If she didn't act, she would carry her regret for a lifetime. She didn't want her failure to morph into a burden that traversed her reign. Spending the rest of her life—a long life, at that—wondering, 'what if' was not ideal.

There were logical decisions, decisions of the mind, and then there were decisions of the heart. This fell towards the latter. She was a woman of intuition, and it felt right to trust her gut on this. What was more, the King Tree had wanted it.

She frowned, wrapping her hand around the staff, reaching out with her mind. "One thing I don't understand," she said, telepathically, "is why you support saving the dragons who are worth saving, when you are for the Sprites?"

There was a long silence and then, Because I am for all that is good, and just, and fair. I am for Dragonwall.

Something warm and powerful surged through her chest. Those words—they felt so...right. So many Sprite queens of old kept to their forests. Some of them, like Isabella, went further, tried to shift the balance in favor of the Sprites. But the King Tree had never truly been for the Sprites, had it? No, not after all she knew. It was for the world, all the worlds, for balance. There would always be evil, sometimes in the form of people like Kane, and the King Tree would always be there, a force to fight for balance, to keep evil from spreading, from rooting so deeply it choked out everything else.

That's what the Tree meant.

It wasn't until the first vestiges of light pricked the horizon that Tourmaline began to slow. If they passed the operatives who journeyed towards Plymlet lake on foot, she did not know. They'd traveled to far and too fast to see anything.

Are we here? Already? It was a silly question, because a lake stretched before her. She could see its opposite shore. She could also see the dragons swooping about, in every color imaginable. She blinked, not quite prepared for the sight.

We are, indeed. There was no mistaking the smugness in Tourmaline's tone.

Wow, she said. That was fast. Nervous excitement settled over her. She lifted the hood of her cloak, revealing herself, in part.

All unicorns travel fast, Tourmaline said. But I am lord of my race. I travel fastest.

His statement was drowned out by a bugle, then another, as her presence was announced. Dragons shifted direction mid-flight. Those lounging around the shore took off into the air, until she had a swarm of them circling. Her throat went dry and she swallowed against the sandpaper feeling of it. "I am queen of the Sprites. I will not be afraid," she whispered to herself. Then she let her cloak fall behind her, revealing her gown, the skin beneath it.

Her hair whipped about her face as a flurry of wings turned the air chaotic. Giant, gem colored bodies dropped to the ground, forming a tight circle. Warning hisses filled the air. Reptilian tongues flicked out of mouths, tasting the air, tasting her scent.

Tourmaline did not flinch. He barely moved, save to paw the ground once, then twice, in warning. She admired his bravery.

Tentatively, she opened her mind, winced, then practiced what she'd learned, allowing the storm of dragon voices to wash over her like a wave, to pass her by and break somewhere on the shore behind her. She would not become the rocky outcropping that took the brunt of their conversations. It would break her mind apart.

She'd once suffered from it, from the force of too many voices in her mind. When she first came to Dragonwall, discovering her ability to hear other telepathic voices had been a shock. But learning to control that ability had been an entirely different matter. Reyr had worked with her, helped her to close her mind. In time, she'd learned how to handle the voices even with an open mind. It took some effort, but she could do it.

"Who is this—?"

"A female—?"

"A unicorn—?"

"What kind of mischief is this—?"

"Where does she come from—?"

"A Sprite—?"

"Get Wrath—"

"Perhaps the Sprites have come to join us—"

"Where is Wrath—?"

She heard them, and yet, it didn't bother her. Taking a deep breath, she let her eyes traverse the enclosure created by their bodies, encircling her. Then, as loudly as her mind could shout, she made her demand, blasting it through their ranks. "Where is your leader?! I wish to speak with them?"

Every voice in her mind fell silent. The world seemed to freeze. Then it erupted, a hundred voices at once. Heads bobbed. Teeth gnashed the air. A ripple of agitation swept from the inner circle, outwards.

"Silence!" She commanded. Once again, in their surprise, they fell quiet. "Where is your leader?" She repeated, putting a queen's demanding force behind the question.

"I am here," came the response. A male's voice. Bodies parted, forming a channel, and she saw him. A giant red dragon, scales the color of blood. His body reminded her of Verath's, but his movements were less refined.

It struck her then. For all the time she'd been around the Drengr, seen them in their dragon forms, these were the true beasts. It was hard to believe none of them could transform into humans, like the Drengr.

The wild dragons parted further and the red beast came to a stop before her. He towered over her, large forearms tipped with lethal talons furrowing the ground where he stepped. His head swung around and then lowered, getting a good look at her with his large, amber eyes. Their eyes were all the same color, she realized, tucking that piece of information away.

"Well, well, well," said the voice, low and syrupy in her mind. Lazy, even. "What have we here? A Sprite queen willing to leave her precious forest?"

She squared her shoulders, lifting her chin as high as it would go. She did not balk. She did not back down. "When needs must," she answered, ensuring every dragon heard her.

"And what, then, was so necessary to bring you all this way, Your Majesty?" He said her title mockingly. She ignored it, rose above it.

"I have come to treat with you."

A roar of laughter rumbled, vibrating his body, sending tremors through the earth. In response, the laughter was taken up by every dragon present until the ground shook with it. When it abated, he said, "Have you no idea who I am, Queen? I am Wrath the Red. Wrath of the Bloodied Scale. Wrath of the Old Blood. But lately, I have been Wrath the Victorious. Wrath the Conquerer. I think that is my favorite name. See? See all that I have conquered?"

She made a point of looking over the dragons gathered around her, made a point of frowning in disgust. "I see a displaced clan. I see a clan that was punished for the sins of its forefathers. A clan that has been forced to live far from home for far too long. But I also see potential. I see a mighty race that encompasses a huge part of Dragonwall's history. A race that has been manipulated by a delusional sorcerer, one that would use you and discard you at his earliest convenience—"

"You think we were manipulated? Hah! Silly queen." She did not appreciate the interruption, but neither would she let him know. "We chose this bloodshed. Hungered for it. We thrive on it. It is the way of our kind. And here I thought a Sprite's memory was long."

"Is it, though?" She asked. "The way of your kind? There were other dragons who did not feel the need for bloodshed—"

"Weak. They were all weak."

"Is that what you tell yourselves? That they were weak? And yet, it was they who inherited Dragonwall. They who became kings. They who now populate the land and rule, while you scrape and claw your way across the kingdom on false promises."

Never mind that the Drengr were a dying race. That their numbers were decreasing as a result of Isabella's selfish desires. As a result of the one child price she had enacted, and then been cursed with, herself. That same curse of loss had come full circle in the form of Claire, who was the long lost descendent of Isabella's daughter, Irelia. Irelia had gone through the Gate beneath Kastali Dun's Great Keep. All of that was a problem for another day, one she hoped she could address, sooner rather than later.

"Why are you here, Queen?" Wrath asked, getting back to the point.

"Because there has been enough bloodshed in the north. Step out from beneath Kane's hold. Cease your death and destruction at once. The Ice Clan of old felt the need to destroy, and look where it got them. Just because your forefathers set the precedent, doesn't mean you must follow it. There are other ways to exist, or co-exist, peacefully."

"Bah! You think to come here in all your queenliness and command us? I well remember what happened the last time our kind treated with the likes of you."

"I am sorry for what Isabella did to the dragon race," she conceded. "She made many mistakes during her reign. Mistakes that cost her. Mistakes that cost all of us."

An uncomfortable shifting of bodies rippled through the gathered mass. Several dragons exchanged surprised thoughts, tongues flicking out in confusion. It was unlike a queen to speak badly of her predecessor, or at least, it surprised them that she did. But it was most likely her apology that confused them. What queen openly apologized? This, they struggled to conceive.

"You admit then, to her wrongfulness?" Wrath's smug tone riddled his words.

"I admit that, yes, she was wrong in many ways, but not in every way. Creating the Drengr was always a way to bring balance to Dragonwall. But in that, she was underhanded and deceitful."

Wrath fell silent. She held her breath. Her admission must have caught him off guard. He shifted, lifting one strong, muscled forearm, and then placing it back onto the dirt. "Be that as it may, you have wasted your time, Queen. There is no place for us here, and so we must take what is ours. And we will take it, with force. Our foes will pay with blood and flesh."

"Is that so?"

"We will not submit to the rule of that boy king."

"Is that what this is about?" She snorted. "The Sprites do not submit to that boy king, as you so elegantly put it. We are a people independent. Your clan would have its own land, be governed by its own rule, as we Sprites are."

"And you think to tempt us with such an offer? That you have the authority to offer up a measly spit of land? A mere pittance of what we might have if we do things our way?"

"I believe you should take the offer."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you will all die." Her words fell like a guillotine. "The least you can do is send your pregnant females away." An uncomfortable murmur of voices erupted in her mind. Good. Her words had left them uneasy. "Yes, I know you have pregnant females with you. I tell you this now: Cease the bloodshed. Send your pregnant females away. Do not tarnish the young before they have the chance to choose their own path, a choice you should not make for them. If you do not do this, I will ensure that every single one of you is slain, left a bloodied mess on the ground, food for the vultures. Your names will be stricken from history. You will be forgotten. You will be nothing." A humming sound filled the air, sending chills over her skin. In her hand, she gripped the Spriten queen's staff so tightly, that she felt the power of her words turn into something strong and ominous. A promise. Foreboding shivers raced through the dragons. They felt it too, felt the power of a Sprite queen, felt the power of the King Tree behind her words.

"And what of the rest of us?" Wrath said. "Do you think that boy king will simply let us live after what we've done."

At this, she laughed. "Most of you don't deserve to live, after what you've done. You've destroyed entire settlements, killed countless humans by fire and bloodshed. I do not believe there is any price you can pay to make up for that. Death would be too easy. But neither should you make things worse. There will be a reckoning, believe me. Either here on the shores of this lake, or in the days to come. The world will remember you one way, or another, but that is your choice. Save your females and their unborn hatchlings. You have two days, or I will ensure you reap the consequences of your choice."

An uneasiness eked into the air. Her words had struck a chord. "And if we decide to leave?" An unfamiliar, female voice broke into her mind. One of the pregnant females, perhaps? "What then, Queen? Where then do we go?"

"Quiet!" hissed Wrath's angry voice.

Hope burst in her chest. "If you decide to leave," she said to the voice, "travel south-east, towards the forest. My people will guide you to a safe place, a place given to you, a place once occupied by dragons of old, a place you can raise your hatchlings when they come."

"I should kill you now, Queen. I should finish what my forefathers started." Wrath gnashed his teeth, biting at the air.

"Oh?" she said, her voice filled with utter confidence. "You think that you could? Very well then, I'd like to see you try. Do your worst, Wrath of the Bloodied Scale. Wrath the Conquerer," she sneered, exactly like a Spriten queen would. "Conquer me!"

Wrath's draconic bellow split the air, sending tremors through the earth beneath Tourmaline's hooves. Around him, gem-colored bodies backed up several paces, unnerved. Anger poured off him, a palpable current that seeped through the air like static electricity. She felt it coat her skin. Her taunt didn't go ignored. In the second it took to blink, he opened his maw, took a deep breath and exhaled, engulfing her in a torrent of flame, hot enough to melt rock.

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐