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Me and Eclipse did a swap a long, long time ago. I asked her to write a Kinkanut (Kinkajou x Coconut) story, and she asked me to write a in-character story from Scarlet's perspective where she was likeable. I guess I succeeded. First-person is hard to use, but here you go!

-Matau

Chapter Only

Everyone hates me.

It sounds paranoid, I know, but it’s true. I’ve certainly made a lot of enemies. In my former occupation, I made legal decisions, decrees, and everything from wars to treaties. I had to take care of my kingdom and my people. It’s true, I killed, lied, and manipulated, but that’s just how we leaders have to operate to keep our kingdoms powerful and orderly. As a queen, I was leader of arguably the most powerful tribe in the world.

My name is Scarlet.

And I was once a queen.

It was that awful RainWing’s fault. She did this to me. I had it all—power, respect, treasure, and command of my tribe. I still don’t want to think about it. It’s probably the most painful experience I’ve ever had. If I could undo one thing, it would be letting Glory live. I should have heeded Burn’s advice and killed them then and there. Now they’re at large, causing who knows what damage.

Oh yes, Burn. She’s on my “To-Kill” list too. My former ally made the huge mistake of shoving me into Glory’s stream of venom to save her own worthless scales. I’ll be sure to deal with her as soon as I get out of here.

I had a plan for that, too. I found a little magical artifact called a dreamvisitor. It had been made by an animus long ago.

I contacted one of the only dragons who both had the means and, if she had anything left of the kind dragonet she had supposedly once been, the will to free me. Glory, the dragonet who had ruined my life. I tried to contact her for a while. I still remember what it was like as vividly as when it happened.

I spent days trying to contact her while she was asleep, as those are the only times it works. It took a while, but I finally got through.

Once I did, she was ready to spray me with venom. I, righteously horrified, snarled, “Don’t you dare. Haven’t you done enough already?”

She looked at my dream of a perfect face. Just to upset me, she said, “Oh. You’re not really here. Am I even awake?”

I then informed her of my struggle to contact her. I also showed her my dreamvisitor.

She said, “A dreamvisitor.” I was interested that she would know what it was. Still, I had to hope she would be merciful enough to free me. “I read about those. An animus dragon made three of them hundreds of years ago, right? I thought the last one in existence was lost with the SandWing treasure, when the scavenger killed Queen Oasis and stole it all.”

I said simply, “Apparently not,” and looked down at it.

She said, strangely neutrally, “So you’re really alive.”

I grimly observed, “You don’t sound as disappointed as I thought you would be.”

She flicked her tail, evidently discomforted. “It’s not that I want you dead. I just want you not trying to kill us.”

I pointed out, quite obviously, that I had never tried to kill her. I then tested something. I tried to attack her, but it didn’t work. She just ignored me, and I stepped back.

The insolent awful dragonet who had ruined my life was almost ready to make up for it. If she had done so, I would have spared her life. She asked me, “Where are you?”

I felt a wild hope from within me. I couldn’t believe it. But I had to be sure. I immediately checked, “If I tell you, will you find me and free me?”

She said, “Not likely. Wait, let me think. Absolutely, definitely not.”

It was completely unfair. I stomped my foot, and cried out, “But you owe me!”

With unnecessary spite, she spat, “How, exactly, do you figure that?”

There isn’t much else to say. She refused to help me, I got upset at her, and eventually I left her dream to find someone who would be willing to help me.

It was only then that I saw what she had done. She had raised my hopes just so she could dash them again. It was a truly terrible thing to do. She could have just said “Goodbye” and then told me she wouldn’t free me. Instead, she let me thing I might have a chance of surviving Burn’s clutches, and then she crushed it.

But the most terrible thing of all was that some part of me knew it was just like what I had done to Kestrel eight years ago. I felt a horrible sense of irony, like the universe itself was laughing at me. I curled up, trying to sleep.

That was three days ago.

Now all I can do is wait.

And hope Burn doesn’t kill me.

I was Queen Scarlet, and this may be my last engraving on this stone.

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