Prologue

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5182 A.S.

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An EGG? With a SKYWING? Are you out of your mind?

Queen Lamprey's bioluminescent scales were flashing furiously, their radiant light searing through the murky depths of the palace. The shimmering display was a cacophony of anger, each pulse a testament to her growing rage. Prince Swordtip winced as the harsh yellow glow illuminated his dark chamber, the flickering light echoing off the walls and driving daggers into his skull.

Mother, please, we didn't- we didn't mean for it to happen, we just-

Lamprey cut him off with another thunderstorm of flashes, her scales igniting in rapid succession so that he could barely make out what she was trying to say. He caught onto strings of traitor and impure and disgusting half-baked sea slug carcass. Her narrow green eyes were practically burning with such intensity and rage that he flinched.

He hadn't thought that she'd react so... Violently. Was he technically already engaged to a wealthy, albeit boring, one-sided, shallow noble (who, mind you, he had only met once in his fourteen years of living)? Well. Yes, he was, but that didn't mean anything, did it? That engagement was more of a formality, a political maneuver, than anything meaningful to either of them. And what harm would it do if he just so happened to meet the most charming, funny, rebellious SkyWing fishmonger in all of Pyrrhia on a diplomacy meeting (that he also just so happened to fall in love with)?

Really, he was doing her a favor, if anything. Less heirs to challenge her for her dear throne.

As if anyone would dare challenge the most brutal, unrelenting, cutthroat queen that the SeaWings have had in generations, he thought to himself wryly. He had two brothers and a scant few cousins that were still perfectly capable of producing heirs, anyways. He really couldn't fathom why she was so upset.

Swordtip looked back up at his mother, still angrily flashing Aquatic at him with the force of a thousand burning suns.

Are you even listening to me, you dim-witted disloyal snail?

He shifted uncomfortably, the tips of his wings twitching as he dipped his head. Yes, mother, I apologize. It's just that-

No. I don't want to hear it. You have desecrated your tribe's blood enough. You are a disgrace, do you understand that? You are an embarrassment to the royal SeaWing family.

Swordtip blinked back fire-hot tears, sharp claws raking the back of his throat as he fought against his emotions. Don't cry in front of her. Don't let her see how weak you are.

She snapped her pristine, white claws twice, the vibrations reverberating through the water. Guards, she signaled to the two SeaWings standing outside his door, take him down to the prison. I don't want to see him anymore.

He didn't have time to even process what was happening before two strong pairs of talons were suddenly on his arms, digging into his scales and forcefully dragging him out of his own room while he writhed like a caught eel between a dragon's jaws, struggling uselessly in their iron grip. Mother! Stop, please! We didn't mean for it to happen, it was an accident! I promise, please, I can leave the kingdom and you'll never have to see me again, I swear on the three moons, he flashed frantically.

Her mind was made up, her expression a mask of cold determination. As he was hauled out of the room, he caught one final, chilling message from his mother's scales.

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