A month had passed since I first hatched from my shell, and the changes in my body had become impossible to ignore,
Where I had once been a tiny three-foot wyrmling stumbling on unsteady legs, like a newborn giraffe on roller skates, I was now nearly six feet long, with muscles that actually responded when needed.
My purple-red scales had deepened in color and gained a subtle iridescent sheen, catching the lava-light in dazzling ways—like a living disco ball with far better fashion sense.
"Look at the little defect," Blazefang's voice carried across our family's training chamber as I attempted my morning fire-breathing practice, like a sports commentator announcing the world's least popular event. "A whole month old and still producing nothing but colored smoke."
But today, instead of the weak wisps that had embarrassed me for weeks like a broken fog machine, a faint stream of purple-tinted flame-smoke emerged from my nostrils. It wasn't proper flame yet.
"Shut your mouth ,developmentally delayed." infernotail comment ,i ignore and continue my practice flow .
"Cough, cough… why so much smoke out of nowhere, uncle?" added a new voice. I turned to see three wyrmlings I didn't recognize approaching our training area—like a gang of critics nobody had invited.
They were clearly friends of my brothers: all perfectly normal red-scaled T-Rex, carrying the confident bearing of wyrmlings who had never once doubted their place in the world,like people born on third base who thought they'd hit a triple.
"Who are they?" I asked quietly.
"Nephews from the branch family," Blazefang replied, his tone dripping with superiority, as though he were introducing celebrities to peasants. "This is Coalclaw, Emberstrike, and Blazeheart. Their father is Chief Ironhide, our third brother."
Coalclaw, the largest of the three, studied me with the calculating gaze of a predator, like a cat sizing up a particularly interesting mouse. "So this is the famous purple wyrmling. Father mentioned not to get too close to you. You're smaller than me how funny."
"And weaker," Emberstrike added with a sneer, like a bully who had practiced his insults in the mirror. "Uncle Blazefang told us you can barely produce smoke, let alone flame spark. How laughable."
I steadied myself, positioning into the proper fire-breathing stance. Every lesson from my secret practice sessions with Pallet flashed through my mind, like a student preparing for the most important exam of his life. The fire-fruits she had shared with me had made a real difference—warm energy now flowed through my body in ways I had never felt before, like a car finally given premium fuel.
Taking a deep breath, I focused on the strange energy building in my chest and throat. Cartilage scraped and ground together, striking like flint stones.
Spark… spark…
A stream of purple spark smoke emerged, denser than my previous attempts. It was still smoke rather than true flame, but heavy enough to obscure the training dummy I had aimed at.
I sneered at their earlier insults. "Oops. I could not handle my flame yet." The condensed smoke sparks drifted straight into their faces.
"Cough, cough, cough—stop! Uncle Rider, are you trying to kill us with asthma?" Coalclaw said dryly, like a food critic reviewing stale bread. The other wyrmlings snickered like hyenas at a bad comedy show, their scales flushing with embarrassment and anger like a traffic light stuck on red.
"Let me show you what real flame spark looks like," Emberstrike announced, positioning himself with arrogant swagger. His flame spark burst forth in a stream of bright orange, sustained and hot enough to feel from fifteen feet away—like standing too close to a roaring barbecue grill. His flames clashed against mine, pushing them back.
"That's how a proper T-Rex breathes fire," he declared proudly, like a teacher demonstrating the obvious. "None of this purple smoke nonsense."
"Maybe the purple means he's not really a T-Rex at all," Blazeheart suggested with false innocence, like a snake offering helpful advice. "I've heard whispers that his coloring is… suspicious."
"Just that some creatures can disguise themselves," Coalclaw added darkly, like a conspiracy theorist sharing his latest secret. "Father spoke of shapeshifters—creatures that infiltrate by hiding in the skin of others."
"What's going on here?"
Sister Sparkwing's tone was deceptively calm as she entered the training chamber, like a teacher catching students in the act. Her larger, commanding form immediately silenced the visiting wyrmlings, like a principal walking into a food fight.
"Just friendly conversation," Coalclaw replied quickly, though the cockiness in his voice faltered, like a tough guy realizing he had picked a fight with the wrong person.
"Friendly conversation that sounds suspiciously like bullying," Sparkwing said coldly, her glare sharp enough to freeze lava. "Perhaps it's time for you three to return to your own family's territory."
The visiting wyrmlings exchanged uncertain glances—like gamblers unsure if they should risk a bad hand. But Sparkwing's presence left them no choice.
"We were just leaving anyway," Blazeheart muttered like a sore loser, and the trio slunk away, sullen and embarrassed.
"As for you two," Sparkwing continued, turning to Blazefang and Infernotail with the tone of a disappointed parent at a parent-teacher meeting, "I'm ashamed. Allowing outsiders to insult your brother in your own training chamber? Our parents would never approve."
My brothers looked uncomfortable, though their faint smirks betrayed that they weren't entirely sorry. After the others dispersed, Sparkwing approached me gently.
"Are you alright, little one?"
"nothing worry sister, i am perfectly fine , it's just matter of time, I am still weak cub " inspite of nearly meet nephew disgrace , my confidence is perfectly maintained .
At noon, I made my now-familiar journey through the Flame Forest toward my secret meeting with Pallet, like a commuter heading down a well-worn road. My steps were more confident than ever.
She was waiting in her lonely cave, a pile of glowing fire-fruits beside her. Tonight, they seemed brighter than usual.
"You look different," she observed, tilting her head like a detective noticing a clue.
" I feel little different " I admitted, a rush of pride in my chest. "It's been a month since I hatched. Thanks your fire-fruits and our training, I think I'm finally growing properly."
"The fire-fruit is definitely helping," she agreed warmly. She gestured to the fruits she had prepared—these ones glowing with a deeper crimson light. "These are my grandmother's special cultivation grown in volcanic soil mixed with crystal dust. They're far more potent than the regular ones."
I bit into one, and immediately a surge of energy shot through melike lightning made of pure joy and fire. My veins felt ablaze, my scales tingled, my body roared with strength.
"How do you feel?" Pallet asked, her eyes shining.
"Ah… too spicy! What did you feed me?" I coughed, though I couldn't hide the exhilaration in my voice.
"Good chili berries," she laughed. "They're working perfectly. Try breathing flame but aim outside. These fruits can produce surprising results."
I bounded outside, braced myself, and inhaled deeply. The power roared inside me, a volcano straining to erupt. With a final push, I exhaled everything.
This time, it wasn't smoke.
A stream of pure purple flame spark burst forth bright, smokeless, alive. Hotter and brighter than anything my brothers had ever produced.
"I… I breathed perfect flame spark," I gasped in awe. "Real fire. Purple fire."
"Beautiful purple fire," Pallet corrected softly, her voice full of wonder. "It's like watching liquid amethyst burn."
That night, as we shared our meal, our conversation felt more intimate than ever. My success filled me with confidence, and Pallet's joy made me feel… valued. For the first time, I was the star of my own story.
"Pallet," I whispered, voice low, "thank you. For everything. For believing in me. For being my friend when no one else would."
Step… step…
The moment shattered. Distant voices echoed through the forest—deep, rumbling, adult voices.
"…expanded patrol schedule…"
"…suspicious activity reports…"
"…check all boundary areas…"
"That's my uncle," Pallet whispered, panic flashing in her eyes. "He shouldn't be here. He was supposed to patrol the northern ridge!"
"Go," she urged quickly, pressing her claw against mine—a touch like an angel's blessing. "Be careful, Rider."
I darted into the underground passage, running like prey fleeing a hunter.
Inside the cave, Pallet let out a shaky sigh of relief.
"That nasty-faced T-Rex uncle ,
why show up so early today? Good thing I masked his scent with my magic.
rider too carefree by nature, and it frustrates me.
It's getting hard to imagine how his ignorant and carefree personality turned evil and vision .
Frustrating ,If he keeps behaving kindly… how am I supposed to know if he's the same person?"