Her head rested on my knees. I did not know who she was, but every emotion surging through me spoke of a single word: sister. Her dimming eyes—mirrors of my own mismatched pair—seemed to reach into the depths of my soul, demanding acknowledgment of a bond that defied my reasoning. Her brown hair clung to her blood-soaked cheeks, framing the fragile resolve in her gaze as life ebbed from her with every strained breath.

  Tears streaked my face, unbidden and unstoppable. I marveled at the intensity of my sorrow for this unknown child, the raw anguish twisting within me. She reached out, her trembling hand faltering mid-air, falling just short of touching me.

  “Elara…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a fragile wisp of sound easily carried away by the slightest breeze. As her hand collapsed into the crimson pool beneath her, an unbearable weight settled over me. My reflection stared back at me, eyes too wide, too vivid—Elara's hazel and blue. The golden halo of my hair rippled in the blood-streaked surface, an image as haunting as it was surreal.

  I woke with a jolt, my body trembling. Seemingly a dream–a memory—yet not mine. It pulsed within the bond, an invisible tether connecting Elara and me. It beat faintly, like a second heartbeat thrumming through my veins, anchoring me to something far beyond understanding.

  Around me, the world shifted. The cage I occupied swayed gently, suspended from the wyvern's talons. My hooves pressed against the plush cushions lining the enclosure, but their softness offered no comfort against the unease gnawing at my thoughts.

  The Wildmanes, perched atop their sleek wyverns, conversed in low tones. Their silhouettes cut sharp profiles against the pale sky, their words carried on the thin, icy wind. Through their conversation I discovered that the Wildmanes were not denizens of Aurelia. Their family hailed from a kingdom that laid to the east. Valoria. And the flight back would prove to be quite long.

  But, I could barely focus on their words. My thoughts drifted back to the bond I shared with Elara—its origin, its purpose. Was this connection the reason I had glimpsed a memory so vivid it could have been my own? Or was it something more?

  I stared out through the cage’s bars, watching the clouds break and shift as the wyverns glided through the heavens. My breath caught as a question slipped unbidden into my mind: If I could see into her memories, what else might this bond allow? Could we share more than just visions—perhaps strength, or even power?

  The thought both thrilled and terrified me. My hoof nudged a cushion absently, leaving it teetering in between two bars.

  The world was eerily quiet. The wyverns' wings beat a steady rhythm, as the altitude made my breaths shallow, each inhalation tinged with a sense of suffocation.

  “Father,” Geoffrey’s voice caught my attention. “Do you truly believe an alliance with Aurelia will benefit our house?”

  Reginald turned slightly, his stern profile silhouetted against the pale glow of the sun filtering through the clouds. “My son,” he began, his tone as measured as a lecture, “though we stand among the twelve dukes of Valoria, the mad emperor will not hesitate to tear apart the old treaty. Without strong allies, our bloodline will be trampled beneath his ambition.”

  His gaze shifted back to the horizon—or what little of it there was to see amidst the swirling mist. Cassian, seated on his wyvern just behind, remained uncharacteristically silent. His head tilted slightly, as if listening to the exchange but unwilling to join it. Occasionally, his gaze flickered back to me. And I’d get a glimpse of the playful Cassian buried deep within his eyes.

  The mad emperor. The title was unfamiliar, I did not know much about the neighbouring kingdoms. Whoever this ruler was, it seemed clear the Wildmanes were not joining Aurelia out of goodwill alone but as a desperate bid for survival.

  Reginald’s arm shot up abruptly, halting his wyvern mid-flight. Geoffrey and Cassian immediately followed suit, their mounts flaring their wings to hover in place. I shifted uncomfortably, the sudden stop making the cage sway slightly. My gaze darted around the clouds, searching for whatever had caught his attention.

  “What is it, Father?” Cassian’s voice broke the tension.

  Reginald didn’t answer immediately, his piercing eyes scanning the roiling white mist below. Slowly, he lowered his hand, signaling the wyverns to proceed, but at a slower, more cautious pace.

  “What was it?” Cassian pressed, his tone laced with unease.

  Reginald scowled. “The border guards,” Geoffrey said quietly, glancing at his brother. “Did you not sense them?”

  Cassian frowned, as his brows furrowed. “Why are they patrolling this far out?”

  “That,” Reginald muttered, “is the question.”

  I relaxed slightly, stepping back into the cage, but my hoof caught the pillow I had nudged earlier. It slid through the bars, tumbling into the void below. My muscles tensed as I watched it fall, disappearing into the clouds. Cassian’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward me. Our gazes locked, as neither dared to even breathe.

  The wind shifted suddenly, carrying with it an ominous hum.

  Reginald groaned. “Damned beast.”

  The clouds below parted, revealing a smaller wyvern rising rapidly toward us. Its scales were hidden beneath black armor that gleamed dully in the muted sunlight. Atop it sat a rider, similarly clad in dark plate, his helmet obscuring all but his snarling voice.

  “There are the traitors!” he bellowed, pointing a gauntleted finger upward.

  The sky came alive with movement. More wyverns emerged from the mist, their black-armored forms cutting a stark contrast against the clouds. One of them held the fallen cushion in its clawed hand, waving it mockingly before tossing it aside.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Damn it,” Geoffrey hissed. “The Skyborne.”

  Cassian’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching around the reins of his wyvern. “Why would they risk attacking us in neutral skies?”

  “They answer only to the mad emperor,” Reginald said grimly. “We’ll have to eliminate them here. If even one escapes to Valoria, our house will be decimated.”

  The leader of the Skyborne tilted his head back, letting out a guttural laugh. “AHAHAHA, fools! You’ve thrown your lot in with Aurelia? I’ll mount your heads on spikes and watch your bloodline burn!”

  Reginald raised his arm, and the air crackled with energy. Bolts of lightning arced from his fingertips, streaking toward the advancing wyverns. The flash illuminated the grim determination on his face.

  The battle began.

  Cassian and Geoffrey dove into the fray, their wyverns spiraling downward as the Skyborne scattered to avoid the lightning. Two weren’t fast enough; the branching bolts struck them squarely, leaving them stunned and spiraling out of control.

  Seizing the opportunity, Cassian and Geoffrey shot upward from the clouds, unleashing bursts of purple lightning that erupted against their stunned targets. The resulting explosions tore through the air, sending shockwaves that left several enemies scrambling to regain control.

  Their leader, undeterred, charged straight for Reginald, his wyvern roaring as it cut through the chaos.

  Reginald glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. “Apologies, little stallion.”

  Before I could process his words, the wyvern carrying my cage let go.

  Time seemed to slow as the cage’s floor fell out from beneath me. I slammed against the ceiling, then against the walls, the violent motion rattling my senses. The world spun as gravity claimed me, pulling me downward with increasing speed.

  Above, I caught glimpses of the battle: Reginald conjuring another arc of lightning, Geoffrey’s wyvern slashing through an enemy’s wing, Cassian weaving through a storm of fire and arrows. Their skill was undeniable, each movement precise and practiced.

  The clouds enveloped me, their cold dampness clinging to my coat. Then, abruptly, they parted, revealing the forest below—an endless expanse of green that seemed to stretch to the horizon.

  I watched as the forest loomed closer, time seemed to stretch. Every second felt eternal, the wind roaring past my ears as my cage hurtled toward the earth. My mind clung to fragments of thought—flickers of faces and places long buried.

  Not Elara. Not Aurelia.

  Instead, an image surfaced: a woman with streaks of gray threading through her black hair, her brown eyes brimming with warmth. She stood in a modest kitchen, a bowl of porridge in her hands, the steam curling up like a comforting embrace. Her smile was a quiet beacon, the kind that made you believe the world could be kind, even if only for a moment. The memory lingered, the taste of the porridge vivid on my tongue, and for the briefest heartbeat, the fear of the fall melted away.

  Then the trees came into sharp focus, their towering forms rushing up to meet me.

  Three.

  I caught sight of creatures darting among the foliage, their movements quick and fluid, like shadows given life.

  Two.

  A glimmering stream carved its way through the dense undergrowth, its waters catching the light like liquid silver.

  One.

  I shut my eyes.

  The cage hit the canopy with a violent crash, the branches groaning under the impact. Leaves and splinters rained down as the bars of the cage scraped against the wood, slowing my descent in bone-jarring bursts. Each collision sent me careening into the sides of the cage, the steel groaning with every impact.

  Then, finally, the ground met me with brutal finality. The cage skidded along the forest floor, gouging a deep furrow in the earth before slamming to a halt against a cluster of rocks. The air was knocked from my lungs, leaving me gasping as silence settled around me.

  I lay still, every muscle screaming in protest. The world was a cacophony of aches and bruises, my body protesting even the smallest movement. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, while the sound of distant battle still echoed faintly in the sky above. The occasional flash of lightning pierced through the canopy, illuminating the chaos raging far above.

  Slowly, painfully, I pushed myself upright, my hooves clinking against the bent and battered bars of the cage. I stretched my neck, testing for injuries. A sharp pain flared in my hind leg, and I turned to see it twisted at an unnatural angle. Gritting my teeth, I summoned mana into the limb. The energy burned as it coursed through me, dulling the pain just enough for me to position the leg between two bars. With a sharp twist and a sickening crack, I reset the bone. The pain was immediate and blinding, but as the mana surged, it began to ebb, leaving only a dull throb.

  Taking in my surroundings I could only see the endless greenery spread before me, trees tall enough to cover the skies and their number uncountable. I looked at the world beyond the bars, listening to the rustling leaves, as a light breeze blew over my coat.

  There lay freedom.

  I was trapped, my life and death seemingly decided by others. With no heed to my own desires.

  The cage, though dented and scarred, still held firm. I focused my dwindling mana reserves, channeling heat into the metal around the latch. The bars began to glow faintly, the steel softening under the relentless pulse of flame. Once it reached a molten hue, I turned and kicked with all the strength I could muster.

  The latch bent outward with a groan, and on the third kick, the door swung open.

  I stepped out cautiously, the damp soil cool against my hooves. For a moment, I stood still, letting the reality sink in. I was no longer bound. No longer confined. The forest stretched out before me, vast and uncharted.

  But I wasn’t alone.

  The distant vibrations of magic rippled through the air, a faint tremor that spoke of the battle still raging above. Fire bloomed in patches where stray spells had scorched the treetops, sending smoke curling into the sky. The Wildmanes and the Skyborne were locked in battle, but for now, I was far from their reach.

  I chose a direction—away from the chaos—and began to run. My injured leg protested with every step, but as mana flowed through me, the pain dulled to a manageable ache. The dense forest closed in around me, its shadows deep and its paths winding. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of moss and earth mingling with the faint tang of mana.

  Hours passed—or perhaps only minutes. Time blurred as I pushed forward, following the call of a distant stream. The sound of rushing water grew louder, a soothing cadence against the backdrop of my racing heart. When I finally reached the riverbank, I stopped, my legs trembling with exhaustion. The cool water called to me, and I bent to drink, the icy rush soothing my parched throat.

  As I straightened, the forest came alive with sound. The chirping of insects, the croak of frogs, the rustle of unseen creatures in the underbrush—all blended into a symphony of life. But beneath it all, I felt something else: the hum of mana, strong and pervasive, threading through the air like an invisible current. The forest was alive with power, its energy palpable.

  A prickle of unease crept up my spine. This was no ordinary forest. The mana here was too rich, too abundant. It clung to everything—the trees, the water, the very air I breathed. I glanced at the river once more, the reflection no longer mine, but of a black-scaled reptilian creature with eyes that seemed to hold the stars.

  I took a step back as the reflection shifted to my own. I had no chance to ponder.

  A sharp sting pierced my flank, and I spun instinctively, my vision beginning to swim. The world tilted as the poison took hold, my limbs growing heavy and unresponsive. I caught a fleeting glimpse of my assailant—a humanoid figure covered in shadow, the only oddity I could make out was its long, pointed ears before the world went dark.

  Red or Blue