Zephyr, Onyxia, Valkyre, and Saphira carefully studied themselves in the polished surfaces of the surrounding crystals.
The cavern walls reflected them back in fractured shards of light — distorted at first, then clearer as they adjusted their stance.
Zephyr stood slightly taller than his sisters, his frame broader, already carrying more visible muscle despite his tiny size. The inherited memories confirmed it was natural — male dragons were typically more physically powerful, their builds heavier and denser.
But that did not mean females were lesser.
Dragon females were faster.
Sharper.
Just as deadly.
Zephyr's scales were predominantly black — deep and glossy like polished obsidian. Along his spine, small crimson horns sprouted and trailed down his back in a jagged line. The red deepened at his claws, each one gleaming like sharpened rubies.
His eyes were a dark, molten red.
He looked exactly like his father.
King Nocturne reborn in miniature.
Onyxia stepped closer to another crystal face, tilting her head slightly as she examined herself with calculating intensity.
She was mostly black like Zephyr, but where he bore crimson, she bore silver. Delicate silver horns curved back from her head, and faint silver edging traced the lines of her wings and spine.
Black and silver.
Elegant.
Controlled.
Her eyes, however, were strikingly different.
Emerald green.
Cool. Intelligent. Assessing.
Valkyre moved next, her tail flicking with restless energy as she inspected her reflection.
Her body was a seamless blend of red and white — neither dominating fully. The colors twisted together like flame and snow, creating a striking contrast across her scales. Crimson curved across her shoulders and wings while white shimmered along her underbelly and throat.
Her emerald eyes gleamed with stubborn intensity.
She looked fierce, even as a hatchling.
Saphira approached last.
She stared quietly into the crystal, absorbing the image before her.
White and silver.
Her scales were luminous — nearly radiant beneath the cavern light. Silver lined her horns, wings, and tail, giving her an almost ethereal presence.
She looked exactly like Queen Anthea.
Except for one thing.
Her eyes were red.
Not silver.
Not green.
But the same deep ruby red as Zephyr.
A blending of both bloodlines.
The four hatchlings stood there for a long moment, absorbing the reality of themselves.
Royal.
Powerful.
Alive.
Zephyr flexed his wings experimentally — the delicate membranes stretching with a faint shimmer.
Onyxia took an uncertain step forward.
Valkyre followed, slightly too fast, nearly tripping over her own tail.
Saphira tried next — wobbling before catching herself against the crystal nest wall.
Walking on four legs was far different than balancing on two.
Their bodies dragged differently. Their weight shifted differently. Their tails threw off their balance more than once.
They stumbled.
Wobbled.
Overcorrected.
Collapsed into each other in an undignified pile of wings and limbs.
Valkyre huffed in irritation.
This is harder than it looks.
You rushed, Onyxia replied calmly.
I did not.
You absolutely did, Zephyr cut in.
Despite the mild bickering, amusement flickered through their shared link.
It felt… normal.
Eventually, exhaustion crept in.
Their bodies, no matter how magical, were still newborn.
The flood of inherited memories, the shock of rebirth, the emotional weight of everything — it caught up with them quickly.
One by one, they retreated back into the massive nest.
Zephyr curled first, instinctively positioning himself slightly outward, as if shielding the others.
Onyxia settled beside him, tail curling inward.
Valkyre flopped down with a dramatic sigh before tucking her wings close.
Saphira nestled into the center, warmth radiating softly around her.
They pressed together naturally, scales brushing scales.
Four heartbeats.
Steady.
Strong.
Alive.
Through their shared mental link, a quiet vow passed between them.
Even in this new life…
They would stay together.
This time, no one would bully them.
No one would isolate them.
No one would make them feel weak.
They would grow stronger than any creature in this world.
Stronger than fear.
Stronger than memory.
Stronger than death itself.
And anyone who tried to break them again—
Would regret it.