Dragon Queen

The fire-queen stands on a burned mountain, wind carries ash through her kingdom. A crown of gold, now turned to black, and tears fall like embers into the earth. Dragons weep in the darkened sky, wings beating like a grieving heart. One was hers—her fire, her life— now he lies dead in the cold dust. “Wake,” she whispers to his bones, “for my world burns without you.” But silence answers, deep and endless, and night devours her prayer. Her blood drips on shattered scales, her fire rises in wild agony. Her heart twists in hatred and grief, her love becoming a destroying flame. She rides alone over scorched lands, a dragonless queen, cursed to live. Those she loved are now only ashes, carried away by a cold wind. In the final light, she looks to the sky, seeing shadows of wings that never return. “I was a mother, I was a queen— now I am fire… and nothing is mine.” So she burns until the world falls, her story sleeping in ash. But when dragons rise again— they still call her broken name