This is a Ballad.
A dragon, fallen into despair, stripped of her power and identity.
A song carved into the weeping marrow of an ancient star, written not in ink or golden scripture, but in the dark, pooling crimson of a pride that had been dismantled piece by agonizing piece.
Once bold, outgoing, and fearless, now was fragile, emotional, timid, and meek.
Where had it gone?
Where had that untamed wildfire vanished—the ferocious girl who once laughed into the teeth of howling astral tempests, who ripped through enemies with bare, bloodied claws, and whose purple eyes blazed like twin suns of defiance across the battlefields of the upper realm?
It had been smothered beneath the cold ashes of self-doubt.
