Chapter One

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Seven years later...

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Shrike awoke to the first light of dawn, the soft golden rays filtering through the high windows of the SkyWing palace and glinting off his stormy blue scales. He stretched his strong wings, feeling the familiar morning ache in his muscles from the previous day's training.

Six years. Six long years since illness stole his mother, Stratus, from his side. Life as a lone dragonet had been a harsh lesson in survival. He vividly recalled her relentless struggle, her talons scraping for every copper piece that barely bought them a day's worth of bread. Yet, despite the hardships, the memory of her unwavering love and gentle strength remained a constant ember in his heart, fueling his every action.

As he prepared for his duties, Shrike couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness. He fumbled with his uniform, the clasps of his guard's uniform slipping through his talons more than once before he managed to secure them. He took a deep breath, smoothing down his scales, and tried to muster the confidence he needed to face the day.

The princess. His first task was to check on Princess Cathartes, his charge and close friend. Cathartes was a rather typical princess, or at least Shrike thought so, with her head in the clouds and a penchant for luxury.

Quite frankly, he couldn't help but see the princess as sort of like a younger sister that he had to protect. She was one of the few dragons who could make Shrike feel at ease.

He made his way through the opulent halls of the palace, the marble floors cool beneath his talons. He knocked gently on Cathartes' door, waiting for her musical voice to bid him enter.

"Come in!" The princess called out, her tone bright and bubbly, as it usually was. Shrike pushed the door open, finding the princess lounging on a pile of silken cushions, her sunrise pink scales gleaming in the morning light.

"Good morning, Princess," he said, dipping his head in respect.

Cathartes beamed at him. "Good morning, Shrike! Ugh, I've been, like, so bored. What's on the agenda today?" The dragonet's talons were spent aimlessly trailing through a silky-soft fur scarf thrown around her neck. "You wouldn't believe the dream I had last night, don't let me forget to tell you later."

"We have your morning flight practice, followed by a meeting with your tutors," Shrike replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Queen Markhor also has an announcement to make later this afternoon."

She groaned dramatically, rolling her golden yellow eyes. "More lessons? Boring!"

Shrike smiled awkwardly, trying to hide his unease. "Yes, Your Highness. It should be... interesting."

"Ugh, I hope it's something fun. These lessons are, like, totally draining me," Cathartes complained, flopping back onto her cushions. "Do you think it could be, like, a party?"

"Maybe," Shrike said wryly, though he doubted it. Queen Markhor's announcements rarely involved anything lighthearted, and her parties were reserved for her and her closest, ridiculously rich group of friends where they talked about meaningless politics and the weather.

After a quick breakfast, they made their way to the training grounds. The morning sun was just beginning to warm the sky, casting a warm hue over the sprawling fields. Cathartes stretched her wings lazily, clearly not thrilled about the upcoming session.

Shrike took a deep breath, trying to suppress his jitters. "Okay, Princess, let's start with some basic maneuvers. We need to work on your turns and altitude control."

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