A month had passed since I first hatched from my shell, and the changes in my body were impossible to ignore.
Where I had once been a tiny three-foot wyrmling, stumbling on unsteady legs like a newborn giraffe on roller skates, I was now nearly six feet long, with muscles that finally obeyed my will.
My purple-red scales had deepened in color, catching the lava-light in dazzling ways like a living disco ball with far better fashion sense.
"Look at the little defect," Blazefang's voice cut across the training chamber as I practiced morning fire-breathing, like a sports commentator announcing the world's least popular event. "A whole month old and still producing nothing but colored smoke."
But today, instead of weak wisps that had embarrassed me for weeks like a broken fog machine, a faint stream of purple-tinted flame-smoke emerged from my nostrils. Not proper flame, yet.
"Shut your mouth, developmentally delayed," Infernotail sneered. I ignored him, flowing with my practice.
"Cough, cough… why so much smoke out of nowhere, uncle?" A new voice joined. I turned to see three wyrmlings I didn't recognize approaching the training area—like a gang of critics nobody had invited.
They were clearly friends of my brothers: perfectly normal red-scaled T-Rex, carrying the confident bearing of creatures who had never doubted their place in the world, like people born on third base thinking they hit a triple.
"Who are they?" I whispered.
"Nephews from the branch family," Blazefang replied with dripping superiority. "Coalclaw, Emberstrike, and Blazeheart. Their father is Chief Ironhide, our third brother."
Coalclaw, the largest, studied me like a predator sizing up an unusual prey. "So this is the famous purple wyrmling. Father warned not to get too close. You're… smaller. How funny."
"And weaker," Emberstrike added, sneering. "Uncle Blazefang said you can barely produce smoke, let alone a flame spark. How laughable."
I steadied myself into the fire-spark stance.
Taking a deep breath, I focused on the strange energy building in my chest and throat. Cartilage scraped, flint stones striking against each other.
Spark… spark…
A stream of purple spark smoke emerged, denser than before. Still smoke, not proper flame, but heavy enough to obscure the training dummy.
I sneered. "Oops, I still can't handle real flame yet." The dense smoke sparks drifted straight into their faces.
"Cough! Uncle Rider! Are you trying to kill us with asthma?" Coalclaw barked, while Emberstrike and Blazeheart snickered like hyenas at a bad comedy show, their scales flushing red with embarrassment and anger.
"Let me show you what real flame spark looks like," Emberstrike announced, positioning himself with arrogant swagger. A stream of bright orange flame shot from his nostrils, sustained and hot enough to feel from fifteen feet away, pushing my smoke back.
"That's how a proper T-Rex breathes fire," he declared proudly.
"Maybe the purple means he's not really a T-Rex at all," Blazeheart suggested with false innocence. "I've heard whispers that his coloring is… suspicious."
Coalclaw leaned in. "Some creatures can disguise themselves. Father warned of shapeshifters infiltrating other clans."
"What's going on here?"
Sister Sparkwing's tone cut through the tension as she entered the chamber, calm but commanding, like a teacher walking into a classroom of troublemakers. The visiting wyrmlings froze, caught mid-insult.
"Just friendly conversation," Coalclaw tried quickly, though his confidence faltered.
"Friendly conversation that sounds suspiciously like bullying," Sparkwing said, her glare sharp enough to freeze lava. "Perhaps it's time you three returned to your own family's territory."
The trio exchanged uncertain glances, gamblers unsure if their bad hand would cost them dearly. But Sparkwing's presence left no choice.
"We were just leaving," Blazeheart muttered, sulking.
"As for you two," Sparkwing continued, turning to Blazefang and Infernotail with the disappointment of a teacher scolding students, "allowing outsiders to insult your brother in your own training chamber? Our parents would never approve."
My brothers looked uncomfortable, though faint smirks betrayed they weren't entirely sorry.
After the others left, Sparkwing approached me gently.
"Are you alright, little one?"
"Nothing to worry about, sister. I'm perfectly fine. It's just a matter of time. One day, I'll make them regret their arrogance." Despite the near humiliation, my confidence remained unshaken.
At noon, I journeyed through the Flame Forest toward my secret meeting with Pallet, steps confident, practiced. She was waiting in her lonely cave, a pile of glowing fire-fruits beside her. Tonight, they shone brighter than ever.
"You look different," she observed, tilting her head.
"A little," I admitted, pride rushing through me. "It's been a month since I hatched. Thanks to your fire-fruits and our training, I think I'm finally growing properly."
"The fire-fruit helps," she said warmly. She gestured to a pile of deeper crimson fruits. "Grandmother's special cultivation, volcanic soil mixed with crystal dust. Far more potent than the usual."
I bit into one, and a surge of energy coursed through me—pure lightning made of joy and fire. My veins roared, my scales tingled, my body vibrated with strength.
"How do you feel?" Pallet asked, eyes shining.
"Ah… too spicy! What did you feed me?" I coughed, exhilarated.
"Good chili berries," she laughed. "Perfectly matched to produce results. Try breathing flame outside. These fruits work wonders."
I bounded into the clearing, inhaled deeply, and unleashed everything inside me.
This time, it wasn't smoke.
A stream of pure purple flame spark erupted, bright, smokeless, alive. Hotter, brighter than anything my brothers had ever produced.
"I… I breathed real flame," I whispered in awe. "Purple fire."
"Beautiful," Pallet breathed, voice full of wonder. "It's like liquid amethyst burning."
That night, as we shared our meal, conversation flowed freely. My success brought confidence; her joy made me feel… seen. For the first time, I was the star of my own story.
"Pallet," I whispered, voice low, "thank you. For everything. For believing in me. For being my friend when no one else would."
Step… step…
Distant adult voices echoed through the forest, deep and rumbling.
"…expanded patrol schedule…"
"…suspicious activity reports…"
"…check all boundary areas…"
"That's my uncle," Pallet whispered, panic flashing in her eyes. "He shouldn't be here. He was supposed to patrol the northern ridge!"
"Go," she urged, pressing her claw against mine—a touch like an angel's blessing. "Be careful, Rider."
I darted into the underground passage, running like prey fleeing a predator.
Inside her cave, Pallet exhaled shakily.
"That nasty-faced T-Rex… why show up early?" she muttered. "Good thing I masked his scent with magic. Rider's carefreeness frustrates me. Hard to imagine how someone so ignorant and kindhearted could become evil. If he keeps behaving like this… how will I ever know if he's truly the same dragon "