New story, trial, another maybe. I don't wanna type 473-5, so she sometimes will just be called 47.

473-5 woke to the fire globe entering her cell, and she quickly scrambled up from her stone slate and followed the orb towards the Training Area.

Along the way, she saw other dragons walking down the halls, following their globes as well. -1s were in high demand, their thick scales and protective nature made them optional.

There weren't many -7s, they were very likely to escape into the night. As 47 reached the Training Area, she saw many -2s and -3s training to be guards.

She made her way over to the line of colorful -5s that looked like her.

Monsoon stood in front of them, his scales a tranquil black with tinges of red and blue.

"Today is choosing day for you all. We have watched you in your General Training and have proven some of you useful and others unusful. Today will change your destiny forever. And for a treat, I will tell you my old numbers." he looked each of them straight in the eye before grabbing his papers.

47 sighed, She wasn't really good at any of the tasks, so she would probably be called unusable and thrown away.

"470-5, Usable, Ornament. 471-5, Unusable. Leave." Both -5s scrambled to their areas, one followed by black clothed dragons and the other to the Sunspots, "472-5, Usable, Guide." When reading the next number, he stopped in front of 47.

"473-5. In Question, Report to office." he looked at her and smirked, "You're special, aren't you? Well, go on. Leave!" Monsoon barked into her ears.

She quickly scampered off to the large black building of the office. A very large -2 stood in front of the door, and at the sight of 473-5, she raised her scorpion tail, "What is your business here, -5?" he bellowed, standing in her way.

Monsoon showed up behind her, "Authorized." he showed the -2 his papers and the guard grunted.

He slowly stepped aside to allow 47 passage.

She slowly looked around before a battle-scarred -5 approached her, "Finally. While you are here, you are no longer a -5, you are what the outside world calls a Rainwing. Your name is Azalea. Learn it. We will call you that for the rest of your time." he turned around, "Call me Blowdart."

I made it short. Deal with it.