Small paws trotted across cooling sand, sleek bodies moving against the shadows of the sand dunes. A mother Skydancer was leading her four children -- two adolescents, and two hatchlings -- across the sand. It was still slightly hot underpaw, and one of the Skydancer chicks complained.
“Mother, I don’t like this,” Simbi whined, lifting his paws high from the ground. He flapped his wings, fluttering a few inches from the ground, before he inevitably fell back down. “The sand is still hot, and it’s so dark! Can’t we go home?”
The mother Skydancer whirled around to face her youngest son, eyes narrowing. “Quiet, you. This is bigger than you, much bigger, and I do not want to hear your whining tonight. Understood?”
Rosalind glared at her son with an unspoken fury, and Simbi winced, turning his head away from his mother to glance at his older brother. Sulwyn shook his head in response, and Simbi looked back at Rosalind, defeated.
“Yes, Mother.”
The two older Skydancers -- sisters Tania and Drayth, nearly twins -- exchanged a knowing glance with each other. Their brothers were barely old enough to understand their mother’s rage. They would come to understand in time.
They walked in silence the rest of the way to the gathering place. There were few other dragons there, and all Skydancers: Ajah, Opal, and Wendall, with little Lucille tagging along with Opal. The stained princess gazed out from behind Opal’s leg, staring intently at Simbi and Sulwyn.
“Lady Rosalind.” Wendall was the first to speak her name, and he bowed elegantly, folding one foreleg in front of him. Ajah, Opal, and Lucille followed, copying him and repeating “Lady Rosalind” under their breaths.
Rosalind’s feathers ruffled.
“My great Skydancer family,” she finally said. “We are gathered here, at last, to celebrate our last day under the rule of those… barbarians.” Rosalind spat. “Dyan and Jean will rue the day they were betrothed. Dyan had no idea what ze was doing when ze passed me up for a mate.”
“Dyan made a grave mistake,” Ajah murmured, keeping his head bowed and eyes averted. “We will be sure not to repeat it.”
“Indeed.” Rosalind sat on her haunches, lifting one paw and pointing it in the air. “Are our… allies ready?”
“Yes, we have sent messengers to them,” Opal replied. “They know of our plans, and will be here to assist us.”
“Excellent.” A dark smile grew across Rosalind’s face. “Then tomorrow, we will spill the blood of the hierarchy. Starting with the ones most vulnerable.”
