Wow, alright...where so I start?

Uh, hey everyone! If you remember me from before, you might remember that I went by PurplePanda1005, then MintRose0608. Now though, I go by Kixotical. I've written a few stories for Wings of Fire, but I decided to take a break for the moment to try out some other things. However, I am back now, and would like to include some updates on several things!

If you look at my profile, you'll see several stories, including Wings of Fire, and I just want to get a few things out there. A lot of my stories I haven't completely abandoned. Some stories, such as "Love, Orken" and "Blood King" will be continued, while others such as "School of the Gifted" and possible "Roommates at 6 A.M" will be rewritten.

Also, this story was a commission for Fraustrix on Wings of Fire Amino! The basic plot and characters do not belong to me.

The sound of her footsteps as her talons squished the wet ground underneath.

The feel of raindrops pattering against her scales, polished to a gleaming white and blue.

The bloodlust already lingering in the air.

Taking deep, heavy breaths, Frostbite narrowed her black eyes to slits, trying her best to concentrate through the pouring rain, slowly seeping into the grassy hillside.

Normally on days like this, Frostbite would go outside and let the rain wash over her scales, running through every rivet, making her multi-color spines stand up with delight. The rain would run through her, refreshing her like a deep cleanse, carrying away any stress, tension, and anger she had previously held.

For some reason, it wasn't working now.

Feeling the mud gather around her in large puddles, Frostbite gripped the ground with pure black talons, hoping she looked more fierce than she felt. A proper queen of the IceWings does not show her inner feelings. At the time, the phrase she had constantly heard hammered into her head time and time again had seemed useless, another unwanted reminder of her position of power.

However, ever since she took the throne she realized just how true that statement was. As a queen, you were supposed to be a symbol of hope, representing IceWings everywhere. They weren't allowed to let their inner emotions interfere with their overall job.

Through the rain, Frostbite managed to focus on the single spot across the hill, the spot that would decide her fate. Young and impulsive, Frostbite's daughter stood, her stance wide and eyes narrowed. Her white scales glimmered as the rain rain down them, the pale green spikes along her spine standing up in hostile manner, an angry glare marring her face.

Frostbite scowled. Over the past few hours, she had started to hate that face. It was the same face she had seen merely hours ago; when a day in the throne room had turned to a kingdom-wide spectacle that would decide the future of the IceWings. The same face she had seen taunting her, boasting about all the amazing things she would do once she "defeated her mother and brought about an amazing age for the IceWings."

Just thinking about it made Frostbite's blood boil. Everything she had right now—she had to fight for it. She had to fight her mother, Freezing Rain, to be queen. She had to fight against the low expectations already set for her rule. She had to fight through the four assassination attempts on her life she had taken the throne. She knew she didn't have it as hard as her mother, who had been half RainWing, but even still her life had never been easy.

And here Orca was, already having the trust and loyalty of almost an entire kingdom just for being born the way she was. She didn't have to struggle for anything; she had always had everything handed to her on a silver platter. When she was boasting to anyone who would listen about what she would do when she was queen, there wasn't a single doubter in sight. She had always tested more popular than the queen herself, and she had more support throughout the kingdom than Frostbite ever did growing up.

A white hot rage flowed through her veins, fueling her body, spiking her adrenaline. Yes. Feel that anger. Use it to your advantage.

An IceWing flapped down to the center of the hill, separating himself from the crowd. Glancing over, Frostbite recognized him as one of her royal advisers, the one that had lived through her mother's rule as well as her own, Hoarfrost. The old IceWing flapped his massive white wings, shaking rain everywhere as he landed in the center of the hill and looked each of them in the eyes; Orca then Frostbite.

Finally, after a moment, the royal adviser broke the silence. "Alright, you both know the rules. A battle to the death. Whoever wins shall take or keep the title of queen of the IceWings. You cannot summon outside help. You cannot harm any civilians. And you both accept death, if it may come to you. Do you accept these rules?" Hoarfrost croaked in a raspy voice, crinkling with age.

"I do," Frostbite replied without hesitation. She was ready to win this battle, and finally prove her worth as queen. Raising the arches above his eyes, Hoarfrost then turned over to look at Orca, who merely gave a devilish smile. Frostbite froze. She knew that smile; it was the Orca used since she was a dragonet; a look that had always said of course I'm amazing, you silly dragon. Did you ever think otherwise?

"I do," Orca said, glaring in her odd sort of determined, devilish smile and widening her stance, preparing for battle. Frostbite quickly did the same.

Looking between the queens one last time, as if he had already accepted that this was the last time that he would see one of them alive, Hoarfrost sighed and flew high above the hill, where he hovered in place. "Alright," he called out. "Begin!"

The battle was a blur. An array of frostbreath and talons split the wet air, enraged shrieks erupting every now and then from either one of them. However, during the fight Frostbite had an upper hand: the rain. Whilst the rain made it harder for Orca, getting in her eyes and making her slip, Frostbite had loved the rain her whole life. The rain had always been her friend, comforting her whenever she felt lonely, sad, or anything—she had learned to use the rain to her advantage.

Still, Orca was not one to give up so easily. Trembling, Orca sat on the ground. Cuts and bruises laced her body, trails of blue trickling through the rivets in her scales. Still, through all the pain she must be feeling, Orca managed to look up at her mother hovering above her, and give her that same devilish smile she had seen so many times before.

"You may think you have the upper hand, mother," she mumbled, shakily getting to her feet as she spit a wad of blood out of her mouth. "But deep down, you know that I am the rightful queen of the IceWings."

Frosbite merely rolled her eyes; now was not the time for this. Rain dripping off her body, Frostbite raised her talon, preparing to strike. Her talon sat there, hovering in the air, just a mere stroke away from Orca's throat. "Any last words?" She hissed, the rain sliding off her snout and splattering onto Orca's face.

Orca merely smiled, leaning her head back. "Yes. You win. Looks like I need to go back to those lessons with Glaze."

The answer was so startling, Frostbite froze for a moment. I won't take lessons with Hoarfrost anymore? What in the three moons was that supposed to mean? And then, like an icy slap in the face, it hit her suddenly, like a lightbulb suddenly turning on.

The memory was so old, Frostbite had nearly forgotten. Orca was just a dragonet, perhaps only a year old, just starting to take combat and self-defense lessons with Glaze, her instructor at the time and a trusted member of the IceWing army.

"I don't like training with Glaze!" Orca complained to Frostbite, standing just outside the training hall. "She's mean! And anyways, I'm already really good at fighting!" To prove her point, Orca flew in the air, kicking the wall with her hind legs.

Frostbite giggled, attempting to hide a smile. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yep. You can stop training with Glaze, if you can prove to me that you really don't need combat lessons anymore." And with that, Frostbite suddenly leaped on her daughter without hesitation, her crown tumbling off her skull. Yelping, Orca released a squeal, her talons squeaking on the slick marble floors as she tried to scramble out of the way. Still, she wasn't quite fast enough. Pinning Orca to the ground gently, Frostbite took her talons and ran them across Orca's body, tickling her daughter until her sides hurt from laughing.

"Okay! Okay!" She squealed. "You win! I'll go back to taking lessons with Glaze!"

This, the same dragon whom she had pinned to the ground and ticked her senseless, was the same dragon whom she was about to stain the ground with her blood.

Suddenly, Frostbite felt as if her talon was being held up by a string, unable to move. That hesitation cost her dearly. Loosening her grip on Orca, the young IceWing gave a small smile; she knew exactly was she was doing. The last thing Frostbite remembered was a talon drawing across her throat, quickly and swiftly, without a moment's hesitation.

And then there was darkness.