Chapter Text
Qibli’s claws barely made a sound against the stone as he stepped through the dimly lit halls of the Sand Kingdom Stronghold. Even with his invisibility spell covering both him and Winter, he still moved carefully, instinctively avoiding the spots where the stone was cracked or uneven.
He had walked these halls a hundred times before. But now, they felt different—colder, emptier, haunted.
This was Thorn’s home. His home.
Qibli swallowed the lump in his throat as his tail flicked behind him, barely brushing against Winter’s. The IceWing hadn’t said anything since they entered, but his sharp blue eyes darted between every shadow, every potential hiding spot, every patrol passing by. His presence was solid, grounding in a way Qibli hadn’t expected.
He forced himself to focus. He wasn’t here to mourn. He was here to listen. To learn.
To make Vulture pay.
But every corner they turned only brought more memories flooding back.
He could almost hear Thorn’s voice—low and steady, always warm, always sure. He could almost feel the weight of the scrolls she used to hand him, letting him read through her plans, treating him as an equal, as someone whose mind mattered.
Now she was dead.
A cold ache settled in his chest, but he clenched his jaw, pushing it away as he pressed his back against the wall, pulling Winter with him as a pair of guards marched past.
Winter tensed for only a second before settling against him, their scales brushing together in the cramped space. His cold breath ghosted against Qibli’s neck as he exhaled slowly.
Qibli didn’t move. He could feel the tension in Winter’s muscles, the way his body was coiled like a spring, ready to act at any moment.
Winter shot him a glance but said nothing. They had done this before—sneaking, slipping through enemy territory like ghosts. But this was different.
For Qibli, this wasn’t just an infiltration.
This was personal.
---
The council chamber was just ahead.
Qibli had chosen this moment carefully. Vulture had called a meeting, which meant important information would be exchanged.
They slipped into the shadows of the upper ledges, pressing themselves flat against the stone as dragons filtered into the chamber below. Qibli counted them quickly.
Anemone was here. Gill, too. At least six guards. And then—
Vulture.
Even in the dim torchlight, he looked smug, his dark eyes gleaming as he tapped his claws against the stone table. He wore an expression of feigned sympathy as he turned to Anemone.
“I must say, it’s truly a shame what’s happened to the Kingdom of Sand. With no true ruler, chaos runs rampant. Thorn’s absence has left such a terrible void.”
Qibli’s claws dug into the stone.
You don’t get to say her name.
Vulture’s voice was smooth, persuasive. Everything about him reeked of a rehearsed performance. Qibli had spent his whole life studying the way dragons spoke, the way they moved, the way they lied.
And Vulture was a master liar.
“I believe we all want the same thing,” Vulture continued. “Peace. Order. Stability.”
Gill let out a low growl. “You said earlier that an attack might be imminent. From the Ice Kingdom. Are you sure of this?”
Vulture tilted his head, feigning concern. “I wish I could say otherwise. But my sources tell me that Winter—King Winter, now—is already aligning himself with animus magic. And not just any animus.”
He paused for effect.
“My grandson.”
Qibli felt Winter tense beside him. His tail flicked, the tip just barely brushing Qibli’s.
“Qibli,” Anemone said, her voice carefully neutral.
“Yes,” Vulture sighed, shaking his head. “He was once an intelligent young dragon, but now? He’s dangerous. Unstable. He blames me for Thorn’s death. And in his grief, he’s turned against his own tribe.”
Qibli felt his breath catch in his throat.
That’s what you’re telling them? That I’m the villain?
It shouldn’t have surprised him. Vulture was a master manipulator. He needed an enemy to unite his allies. And Qibli was the perfect target. A rogue animus. A grieving dragon. A wildcard.
But hearing it out loud—hearing Anemone nod as if she believed it—made his talons shake.
Beside him, Winter pressed closer, his shoulder solid against Qibli’s. It was a small movement, but it was enough.
Qibli inhaled slowly. Steady. Winter was right here. He needed to focus. Keep listening.
Vulture sighed dramatically, placing a talon over his chest. “I know it must be hard to hear. But I fear he is leading the IceWings into a war against us. And an animus war is not something any of us want.”
Anemone hesitated. “If he’s really that powerful, we should have Turtle counter him.”
“I simply suggest,” Vulture said smoothly, “that we prepare. Just in case.”
Gill frowned. “Prepare how?”
Vulture leaned forward, smiling.
“We have an animus of our own, don’t we?”
Silence.
Qibli’s mind raced. This was worse than he thought. Vulture was going to force Turtle to use his magic against him. Against Winter. Against the Ice Kingdom.
And if Anemone agreed to it, then the battle lines would be drawn.
It would be war.
Winter shifted beside him, his muscles tensed like he was ready to leap down and start slashing throats.
Qibli’s talons found Winter’s in the dark. He gave them a firm squeeze, a silent warning.
Not yet.
Winter’s claws twitched against his, but he didn’t move.
They needed to get out of here. They had the information they needed.
Qibli nudged Winter gently, shifting backward so Winter could follow his lead. One step at a time.
They were almost out.
And then, a voice.
“Hold.”
Qibli froze.
Vulture’s head turned slightly, his black eyes scanning the room.
His tail flicked once. “Something feels… off.”
Qibli held his breath.
Did Vulture have an Animus-enhanced sense? Had he detected them? No—he would have reacted differently. This was just instinct. Suspicion. The feeling of being watched.
They still had a chance.
Anemone frowned. “What do you mean?”
Vulture didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let his gaze sweep over the chamber, lingering for a fraction of a second too long near the ledge where they stood.
Qibli’s heart pounded.
Winter didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Then, Vulture chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, never mind. Just a feeling. Perhaps I’m being paranoid.”
Qibli resisted the urge to exhale in relief.
Anemone rolled her eyes. “Right. Well, if that’s all, I have a kingdom to run.”
Vulture bowed slightly. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
Qibli didn’t wait for more. The second they were clear, he turned away, guiding Winter out through the corridors, moving swiftly but carefully.
It wasn't until they crossed the border to the Ice Kingdom that he lifted the invisibility spell.
Winter exhaled sharply. “That was close.”
Qibli nodded, his mind still racing.
“We need to move fast,” he said. “Vulture is already setting his plan in motion. If he convinces Anemone to use Turtle’s magic against us, the IceWings will have no choice but to retaliate.”
Winter’s eyes darkened. “Then we stop him. Whatever it takes.”
Qibli took one last look at the Stronghold, his claws digging into the sand.
Thorn had once built something beautiful here.
He wouldn’t let Vulture destroy it.
No matter what.