Icemoon froze, her spiked tail tightening around her hind talons like a coiled serpent. A faint scrape echoed down the corridor—claws on stone? Her IceWing instincts screamed danger, but she forced her posture to stay rigid, regal. Imagining things. As if luck's ever been on my side.

Behind her, the two RainWings had already dissolved into the murky greens and browns of the stronghold's crumbling walls. Only the faint shimmer of Mangrove's anxious scale-shifts betrayed them—a flicker of chartreuse in the shadows.

"Hey!" A voice rasped, sharp as a scorpion's sting. "What're you doing here, ice-breather?"

Icemoon turned slowly, her star-studded wings snapping shut to hide the RainWing softness of her underbelly. A SandWing guard loomed in the flickering torchlight, his left wing mangled—a ragged tear splitting the membrane like rotten cloth. His amber eyes glinted with malice, lingering on the black stars speckling her frills.

"I'm here to see Queen Burn," Icemoon said, her voice colder than the midnight tundra. "Stand aside."

The guard limped closer, his barbed tail dragging a jagged line in the dust. "You're a hybrid," he sneered, jabbing a claw at the constellations etched into her wings. "Those stars—NightWing trash. What's a freak like you want with Her Majesty?"

Icemoon's pulse roared, but she let her lips curl into an IceWing's trademark smirk—thin and venomous. "Queen Burn collects oddities, doesn't she?" She raised a claw, examining it lazily as frost began to crystallize along its edge. "I'm sure she'd adore a trophy as... unique... as you."

The guard stiffened, his good wing twitching. For a heartbeat, the corridor hung silent, save for the drip of distant water and the creak of his ragged breath.

Then—"You're lying." His tail lifted, the venomous barb glistening. "Burn's dead. And you're no IceWing envoy."

Icemoon's frost spread, creeping up her foreleg. *Think. *Think. Burn's dead, but Blister—

"Then perhaps I'll settle for your head instead," she hissed, lunging forward with a snarl. The guard stumbled back, his broken wing tangling in the rot-eaten banners hanging from the wall.

In the chaos, Glory's voice cut through the dark like a knife—"Move!"—and the corridor erupted in a blur of amber scales and RainWing fury.

The guard's barbed tail lashed wildly, gouging the air inches from Mangrove's throat. Icemoon snapped out of her daze—Move, you frozen idiot!—and lunged, her claws slamming into the SandWing's scarred flank. He bucked, his mangled wing flapping like a torn sail, but Glory was already on him, her fangs sunk deep into his uninjured wing joint.

"Get—OFF—!" the guard roared, thrashing as venom dripped from Glory's serrated teeth, sizzling against his scales.

Icemoon didn't hesitate. She slammed her talons down on his throat, pinning his head to the floor, and unleashed a torrent of ice across his crumpled wings. The frost crawled fast, cementing his tattered membranes to the stone.

"Agh—SCORCH YOU—!" he howled, the cold seizing his muscles.

"Shut it, you blistered lizard," Glory snarled, her voice low and lethal. She pressed her venom-coated fang to his neck, where the pulse throbbed frantic under thin scales. "One word. One sound. And I'll melt your spine where you lie."

The guard's breath hitched, his good eye darting between Glory's lethal glare and Icemoon's icy grip. Mangrove hovered behind them, his scales flickering between battle-ready crimson and terror-stricken gray.

"Tie him," Icemoon ordered, her breath still frosting the air. "Use the banners."

Glory didn't look up. "You. Lizard. If you value that ugly snout, tell us where Burn's pet projects are hidden."

The guard spat a glob of blood near her talon. "Burn's dead. But Blister's got new pets now. Freaks. Like her." He jerked his snout at Icemoon. "You'll end up skinned alive in her lab—AHH!"

Glory's talon crushed his wounded wing deeper into the ice. "Wrong answer."

Icemoon's spines bristled at the word freak, but she kept her voice glacial. "He's wasting time. Let's drag him to the viper nests. See how long he lasts."

"Wait—!" The guard's bravado cracked. "Third tower—undercroft! But Blister's dragons are already there—"

Glory slammed his head against the floor, knocking him silent. "Move," she barked at Mangrove, tossing him a shredded banner. "Gag him. Tight."

As Mangrove fumbled with the cloth, Icemoon caught Glory's eye. The RainWing queen gave the faintest nod—good call—before stalking toward the stairs, her scales blazing like a desert sunrise.

Icemoon lingered just long enough to freeze the guard's talons to the stone. Let Blister's lackeys find him like this, she thought bitterly. A statue of his own shame.

SCENEBREAK

The chamber reeked of blood and rust.

Icemoon's frost-coated talons slipped on the slick stone as she staggered back. Chains hung from the walls like dead serpents, their jagged hooks glinting in the thin shaft of light from the ceiling. And there, coiled beneath them—

Oh no.

Orchid's scales were dull, the vibrant greens and golds of her RainWing heritage bleached to ashen gray. Her wings—moons, her wings—hung shredded, the delicate membranes torn into ragged ribbons. A pool of crimson darkened the floor beneath her, still glistening.

Mangrove didn't scream. He didn't roar. He made a sound like a snared animal, half-choked and raw, before collapsing beside her. His talons trembled as he cradled Orchid's head, smearing blood across her snout. "No—no, no, no—" His voice splintered. "Orchid, my star, my light—please, open your eyes—"

Glory shouldered past Icemoon, her scales blazing venomous yellow. She pressed a claw to Orchid's throat. "Pulse. Faint. Mangrove—let go."

"They mutilated her!" he wailed, his scales flickering between grief-stricken black and a sickly, dying green. "Her wings—she'll never fly, she'll never shine—"

"She'll never breathe if you crush her!" Glory snapped, shoving him back. "Icemoon—help me with these chains!"

Icemoon stood frozen, her IceWing composure cracking. The chains weren't just iron—they were branded into Orchid's ankles, the metal fused with scorch marks. SandWing fire. Her gaze drifted to Orchid's face, where three claw marks raked across her eyes. Not just torture. A message.

"Icemoon!" Glory's snarl snapped her back.

"I... yes." She lunged forward, blasting the chain links with a targeted jet of frost. The metal groaned, brittle now, and Glory shattered it with a whip of her tail.

Mangrove scrambled to scoop Orchid into his arms, his sobs hitching into broken whispers. "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here..."

Glory rounded on Icemoon, her eyes slitted. "Hybrid. Look at me." When Icemoon met her gaze, Glory's voice dropped, low and urgent. "Can you carry her?"

Icemoon's throat tightened. Carry a broken dragon. Through a stronghold crawling with enemies. While Mangrove unravels. She glanced at her claws, still smeared with the guard's ice-blood. "Yes."

"Then move," Glory hissed. "Before whatever did this comes back."

But as Icemoon reached for Orchid, the RainWing's eyelids fluttered. A choked whimper escaped her, and her mangled wings twitched—a frail, instinctive attempt to shield herself.

She's alive, Icemoon realized, her chest aching. But whatever's left of her... might wish she wasn't.