A man from Portugal, a talent scout or perhaps just a kind stranger with connections, heard her singing at some dirty alley, a forgotten corner of the city where she had gone to practice in private away from the judgmental ears of her neighbors.

He loved her voice, he had told her directly, and he gave her his card with his contact information written on it.

He said he would see what he would do for her, what opportunities he could open, and what doors he could unlock.

Maria was very happy, overjoyed beyond words, because her family might finally be saved by this unexpected stroke of luck and this generous stranger’s intervention.

Her dreams were so close to becoming reality, so close that she could almost taste the sweetness of success on her tongue.

But sadly, when she was writing one specific song in her room late at night, focused entirely on her notebook and her lyrics, armed men broke into their house without warning.

They kicked down the door and stormed in, shouting and making demands.

Maria quickly ran out of the room, drawn by the sounds of screaming and crashing, to see her father already shot, his body dropping to the ground with a heavy, final thud.

While the rest of her family lay in pools of their own blood around him, some still moving, but most already still. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"They said, ’ah, there is one remaining, kill her too,’ and then something really hard and heavy struck my forehead with enormous force," she was smiling while recounting this horrific memory, her lips curved upward and her eyes soft, but the content of her words was not easy to swallow or process or accept.

Her smile made the story even more disturbing, somehow, as if she had detached herself so completely from that past life that she could discuss her own murder so casually.

She continued; "And then... I found myself breaking out of an egg, cracking through the shell, to find Irina and Lazarus’s faces hovering over me, looking down at me with curiosity and concern. I was not a human anymore.

"When I thought about it much later, I realized; I was shot on the forehead, right? That was what killed me.."

"...Mhm. Uhm, I-I do not even know what to say, Violette. It is... a lot to take in all at once, I’m sorr--"

"Please, don’t apologize," Violette’s smile deepened, becoming something more genuine and less mask-like, though the pain behind it was still visible. "Do not pity me for the life I lost or the family I left behind. I have already moved on from that tragedy.

"It was truly tragic, what happened to me and my family, but I know that my family is in a better place now, somewhere safe and peaceful where no armed men will ever break down their door again..."

"Right. You are very strong, Violette, to have survived that experience and come out the other side with this strong spirit," I said, as the night breeze blew gently on my hair, cooling my skin and carrying the scent of the Wilds across the distance between us.

"Well, in Elyndor," she blushed slightly at my compliment, her pale cheeks darkening with color, "one has to be strong, otherwise they will die very quickly. There is no room for weakness here... So even the great Irina, as powerful as she was, was not immune to that harsh reality...?"

We talked a lot more after that, hours of conversation flowing between us as easily as water flowing down a river.

And I could feel her becoming way more comfortable around me, and vulnerable and... childish?

The stern and authoritative armor she had worn at the beginning of our encounter had completely fallen away, replaced by something softer and far more endearing.

Though, somehow she was now sitting in front of me on the stone platform.

Her back pressed warmly against my chest, happily telling me everything that had transpired from the moment she first arrived in this world as a confused and frightened hatchling.

All the way through her growth and her battles, then her friendships, until the point when she had fallen asleep.

She also mentioned that the "stupid daughter of the Crimson Flame Dragon" had suddenly gone off script during the critical stages of the war, abandoning the agreed-upon plan and the strategic coordination.

Then she attacked their own Trump Card — Seraphina. One of their most powerful assets on the battlefield.

"Seraphina was her own aunt, can you believe that level of betrayal...?! And family drama?!" Violette turned her insanely beautiful face to look at me, her dark eyes shining with residual anger and disbelief even after all these thousands of years.

Ah, and I noticed that she smelled like wet earth and fresh flowers.

It was a surprisingly pleasant and natural fragrance that suited her more than any perfume ever could.

Ah, but I think Dynamis and Titania had mentioned something similar before, back when I was still an Arch human. Which was literally last week!

Dynamis called her the red dragon, I remember, though she did not go into great detail about her nature or her family connections.

Violette also added that, the villain being described as the "red dragon" was a common mistake many people made about her.

Tëhznarā is the villain’s name, the daughter of Jöezhēdeath, the Crimson Flame Dragon.

And because she could appear even more dreadful and terrifying than the real red dragon himself, she was often mistook for him.

The red dragon, she explained, is actually still the Crimson Flame Dragon; a Primal dragon god of immense power and ancient lineage.

Oh, and he’s also the brother of Seraphina.

He has a dragon kingdom located somewhere in the "monster realm," a dimension that caters primarily to demihumans and other non-human beings.

Though some humans also live there under his protection and rule.

It is a place of power, danger, and ancient traditions, where strength is respected above all else and weakness is quickly culled from the population.

"His daughter, Tëhznarā, had always been insane," Violette explained to me, occasionally nuzzling against my chest like a cold puppy seeking warmth. "But no one would’ve ever thought that she would betray us so suddenly, turning on her allies in the middle of the war. She was seriously trying to kill her aunt. Someone who was meant to fight the strongest devil, Lucifer himself, in single combat to determine the outcome of the war.

"That single act of betrayal, that one selfish and shortsighted decision, made the war strain on for this long, dragging out the conflict for centuries longer than it should have lasted. Who knows how many lives were lost because of her madness? Who knows how much suffering could have been avoided if she had simply followed the plan?"

Her voice grew quiet at the end, trailing off into a sad and reflective silence, and I felt her body relax against mine, trusting me not to push her away.