"Please," Kaia whispers. "I need to know who she really was. Not just the woman who raised me, but who she was before my father took her."
I settle back against the pillows, organizing my thoughts. Isolde. It's been decades since I allowed myself to think about her properly, to remember the vibrant dragon who disappeared without a trace. "I was much younger when I knew her," I begin. "Still learning what it meant to be a dragon, to wield our magic and navigate court politics. Isolde was older than me by several decades, already fully established in her power and position."
"What was she like?" Kaia asks, her voice small and hungry for details.
"Beautiful," I say immediately. "Bright and so happy it was almost infectious. When Isolde walked into a room, you knew it. Not because she demanded attention, but because her presence was like sunshine. She had this laugh that made everyone around her want to laugh too. People gravitated toward her naturally."
Alessia makes a sound of agreement. "I remember her laugh. It carried through the halls, and you couldn't help but smile when you heard it."
"But she was also a bit of a troublemaker," I continue, unable to stop my own smile at the memories. "Always exploring, always discovering new things when she should have been safe at home. Isolde couldn't stand being confined. She'd sneak out of the castle to explore the mountains, to fly through storms just to feel the wind and rain across her scales, to visit villages and talk to common folk rather than staying isolated in royal circles."
Kaia shifts slightly, and I can see the recognition in her eyes. "That sounds like something I would do."
"You inherited more than just her magic," I tell her gently. "You got her spirit too. That need for freedom, that refusal to be caged. It's dragon nature, especially for Omegas. We're not meant to be hidden away and controlled."
"Tell me more," Kaia pleads. "What did she look like? What were her colors?"
"Gold and cream," Alessia says before I can answer. "Her scales were primarily gold, the same shade as honey in sunlight, with cream accents along her belly and throat. She was stunning in flight, catching the light and throwing it back in patterns that looked like liquid gold."
"She was a royal but not in line for the throne," I continue. "A distant relative to the ruling family, close enough to have privileges and responsibilities but far enough removed that she wasn't weighed down by expectations of succession. It gave her freedom that direct heirs didn't have, and she took full advantage of it."
"What happened?" Kaia asks. "How did she disappear?"
I take a breath, remembering that awful time. "At some point, she disappeared on one of her many adventures. It wasn't immediately unusual. Isolde would sometimes be gone for days exploring or visiting other parts of Embrath. But after a week passed with no word, we started to worry. I only learned later that she had been on a routine scout. After two weeks, we started searching. We sent scouts to every place she was known to frequent, questioned everyone who might have seen her."
"And you found nothing," Kaia says quietly.
"Nothing," I confirm. "Everyone just waited for her to come back, convinced she'd show up with some wild story about what she'd discovered or seen. But she didn't. And then we were told her magical signature disappeared entirely. One moment it was there, faint but present, and the next it was just gone. Like she'd ceased to exist."
Alessia's hand finds mine, squeezing a little. She remembers this too, the grief and confusion that swept through Embrath when we lost Isolde. "We got no closure," she adds softly. "No idea where she went, if she was alive or dead, if she'd been captured or killed or simply chosen to leave. It was torture not knowing."
"That was just when the Shadowlands were starting to form," I continue, the pieces clicking together in my mind even as I speak. "A certain darkness began spreading over the lands between all of the kingdoms, separating us from our neighbors. Travel became dangerous, communication became difficult. We assumed Isolde had been caught in that darkness somehow, that she'd been one of the first victims of whatever magic was creating the Shadowlands."
"It makes sense now," Kaia says, her voice heavy with understanding. "If my father took her, if he somehow captured her and brought her to Valoria, her magical signature would have disappeared from Embrath's awareness. Especially if the Shadowlands were forming at the same time, blocking magical connections between kingdoms."
I stroke her hair again, wishing I could take away the pain this knowledge brings. "It's not your fault, sweetheart. You didn't know any of this. You were just a child when she died, and she clearly chose not to tell you the truth about what she was or where she came from."
Kaia sighs, the sound carrying years of accumulated grief and confusion. "I thought it odd that my father turned evil one day, demanding treasures from a place I didn't even know existed. But if he's always been looking for it, or thought he was owed something because of being married to my mother, if he believed her wealth and her people's wealth belonged to him by right of that forced marriage..."
"It doesn't excuse what he's done," I say firmly. "Nothing excuses kidnapping someone and keeping them prisoner, forcing them into a bond they didn't choose. Nothing excuses sending warriors to kill innocent people. Your father's actions are his own, and he'll pay for them."
Kaia nods, but I can see the guilt still weighing on her. I need to shift this conversation, to help her remember the good partsof Isolde rather than dwelling on how it ended. "Tell me," I say gently. "How was Isolde as your mother? I bet she was gorgeous even in human form."
Kaia's entire face lights up at the question, the grief temporarily pushed aside by happier memories. She sits up a little, leaning back against Solace but turning so she can see both Alessia and me. "She was," Kaia says, her voice warming with affection. "She was absolutely stunning. She had these eyes that were almost amber colored. Her hair was long and wavy, the same golden blonde as her scales apparently, and she always wore it down even though the court ladies told her it was improper for a queen."
I smile, able to picture it perfectly. That sounds exactly like Isolde, refusing to conform to expectations even in captivity.
"She was caring and loving in ways I didn't appreciate until she was gone," Kaia continues. "She'd hold me when I had nightmares, sing songs in a language I didn't understand but that felt like home somehow. She'd sneak me treats from the kitchen when my father said I needed to learn discipline through deprivation. She'd defend me when he criticized me for not being the daughter he wanted."
"She sounds like she was a wonderful mother," Alessia says softly.
"She was," Kaia agrees. "And she taught me to fight. Not the way the castle guards taught, all rigid forms and proper techniques. She taught me to be creative, to use my size as an advantage rather than a weakness, to fight dirty if necessary to survive. We'd practice late at night in one of the abandoned wings of the castle, just the two of us. She said I needed to know how to protect myself because she wouldn't always be there."
The implication of those words hits me hard. Isolde knew she was going to die, or at least suspected it might happen. She was preparing Kaia for a life without her protection.
"She taught me about magic too," Kaia adds. "How to sense emotions, how to detect lies, how to shield my own feelings from others. She said these abilities were gifts that would keep me safe in a dangerous world. She made me promise never to tell anyone about them, especially not my father."
"Because she knew he'd try to use them," I say, anger simmering in my chest. "He'd turn your abilities into weapons for his own purposes."
