The room Luminara was assigned within the stronghold was far from luxurious, but it carried a sense of practical comfort. The stone walls were cool to the touch, offering a reprieve from the relentless desert heat. Tapestries hung in neat, deliberate arrangement, their faded edges hinting at their age but not detracting from the stories they told. Each scene wove a tale of SandWing history—battles fought, alliances forged, and the rise of queens who had shaped the scorching expanse beyond these walls.

Luminara's gaze wandered to a particularly large tapestry that dominated the room. It depicted a NightWing, unmistakably Queen Vigilance, standing proud among her court. Her dark, regal figure loomed over others in the image, her eyes a commanding presence even in woven form. Luminara felt her chest tighten, her heart twisting painfully at the sight.

The reminder of the NightWings, of their history intertwined with hers, of him, was a bitter ache she hadn't expected to resurface here, of all places. She brushed a claw lightly over the edge of the tapestry, tracing the intricate stitching that outlined Queen Vigilance's wings. It felt strange to be in a SandWing stronghold, surrounded by reminders of NightWings, as though the past refused to stay buried no matter how far she traveled.

She pulled her talons back sharply, as if the tapestry had burned her. Shaking off the sudden wave of memories, Luminara moved to the narrow window cut into the stone, looking out over the sprawling dunes bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. Her moondrop necklace pulsed faintly, as if in quiet sympathy with the emotions swirling within her.

This room might have been her sanctuary for now, but the stories on these walls reminded her she couldn't linger. The past was too close here, too insistent, and she had a mission to complete, one way or another.

With a resigned sigh, Luminara turned her attention to the doorway, where a smaller, leaner SandWing slipped into the room. This dragon was strikingly different from the brawny, armor-clad guards Luminara had encountered earlier. She had an air of casual indifference, her golden horns adorned with delicate bands that caught the light, and a pair of thin glasses perched on her snout, giving her an intellectual, almost bookish appearance. Her gaze was sharp, despite the languid droop of her eyelids, and she carried herself with a relaxed confidence that hinted at a mind always working beneath the surface.

"Admiring the tapestries, are we?" the SandWing asked, her tone as cool and dry as the desert winds outside. She stepped further into the room, her tail swaying behind her in lazy arcs, and her wings brushed lightly against Luminara's as she moved past.

Luminara offered a polite nod, unsure of this new dragon's intentions. The SandWing stopped beside her, eyeing the tapestry of Queen Vigilance with faint amusement. "This," she remarked, tapping a claw lightly against the edge of the fabric, "is the only one we're allowed to have for the NightWings. An exception, you might say." She snorted softly, her tone turning wry. "SandWings and NightWings aren't exactly what you'd call 'friends.' And as for the IceWings..." Her voice trailed off, but her expression twisted into a sardonic smirk. "Let's just say we don't exchange Hearthwarming gifts."

Luminara studied the SandWing carefully, noting how her words carried layers of meaning, sharp as a knife beneath her nonchalant delivery. "It's a beautiful tapestry," Luminara said cautiously, though her thoughts lingered on the dragon's cryptic demeanor. "A shame there aren't more like it."

The SandWing let out a dry chuckle, adjusting her glasses with a flick of her claw. "Beautiful, sure. But alliances aren't built on beauty. History's messy. Blood stains harder than ink, as they say."

Her amber eyes flicked over Luminara, assessing her with a look that seemed to pierce right through her RainWing disguise. "You're not like the other RainWings," she said, tilting her head slightly. "You don't have that... what do they call it? Ah, yes—aloofness. You're too tense. Too aware." Her smirk deepened, her tail flicking lazily. "You're hiding something, aren't you?"

Luminara's heart skipped a beat, but she managed to keep her expression calm. "Perhaps I'm just adjusting to being so far from home," she replied smoothly, lifting her chin with feigned ease.

The SandWing raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to press further—at least for now. "Well, RainWing," she said, stepping back toward the door with an air of casual dismissal, "watch your step while you're here. This stronghold can be... unforgiving to outsiders who don't know their place."

As she turned to leave, her tail flicked toward the tapestry one last time. "But do keep admiring the art. Sometimes, history is all we have to remind us who we're not." With that, she strode out, leaving Luminara alone with her thoughts and the unsettling realization that this SandWing might know more than she let on.

💙💜

After about a week in the stronghold, Luminara found that while the SandWings hadn't fully grown accustomed to her presence, they seemed to have reluctantly accepted her existence—if only for the sake of avoiding unnecessary conflict. The sharp stares and tense shoulders remained, especially when Queen Burn wasn't nearby to act as a deterrent. Most of the dragons shot her sour looks in passing, their expressions a mix of distrust and thinly veiled disdain. It was as if her mere presence upset the precarious balance of the stronghold.

Still, there were a few exceptions, and one of the more notable ones was Jaguar, the bespectacled SandWing with a knack for being everywhere at once. Jaguar had quickly emerged as an unusual ally, her sharp wit and sharper tongue cutting through Luminara's initial wariness.

"Bossy" was an understatement for Jaguar's demeanor. She had a habit of ordering dragons around as though she were next in line for the throne instead of Burn's unofficial archivist. Yet, beneath the brusque exterior, she possessed a certain charm—a dry humor and a tendency to help Luminara navigate the stronghold's labyrinthine halls without making it seem like charity.

"You're still here," Jaguar had commented one morning, adjusting her glasses as she found Luminara studying the fortress's walls. "Surprising, considering half the guards want to toss you out, and the other half probably dream of feeding you to the scavengers."

"Charming," Luminara had replied with a raised brow.

Jaguar had grinned, her tail flicking as she leaned against a nearby column. "Relax. I said dream. Burn's too busy preparing for her next battle to care about one stray RainWing."

Despite her biting remarks, Jaguar's company had become a strange source of comfort for Luminara. While most SandWings either ignored her or treated her like a pest, Jaguar seemed genuinely curious about her, asking questions about the Rainforest and its dragons, though her interest always came with an edge of sarcasm.

"So," Jaguar had asked one evening, sprawled out on a pile of cushions in the library, "are all RainWings this... reserved, or is that just your thing? I always thought your kind were all about napping and throwing fruit at each other."

Luminara had smirked faintly, tossing a mango her way with just enough force to make her flinch. "Maybe you'll find out if you ever visit."

"Pass," Jaguar had replied, catching the fruit mid-air. "Too humid. But thanks for confirming the fruit-throwing thing."

Despite herself, Luminara found she didn't mind Jaguar's company. She was blunt, nosy, and occasionally frustrating, but her presence made the days in the stronghold feel a little less suffocating. And though Luminara still felt the weight of her mission pressing down on her, she couldn't help but wonder if Jaguar's growing curiosity about her might eventually become more of a liability than a comfort.