The Mothers Who Burn

The TCOSA Fronts' Mother Dragon, Ildilyntra.

High General of the Sky-Crest Wyrmarches, Half Azruv, Half Dragon. Known as "The Scaled Matron of Flame"

Nobody refers to her as "Commander."

Nobody is brave enough to name her "General."

She is just Mother in the TCOSA dominion's skies.

To thousands.

To millions.

All dragons, whether metallic, cosmic, chromatic, ash-born, or even broken-bloodlines, bow to Ildilyntra because she believes in them like a mother would, not because she gave birth to them. And that's everything for dragons.

Ildilyntra, the daughter of the Sky-Shard Broodmother and a pureblooded Azruv tyrant, was never meant to live. Her scales are inscribed with glyphs that existed before she was born, and her veins are infused with the blood of power and devastation. It was predicted that her very presence would shatter battlefields. And it did.

She created a haven in the sky, however, where dragons who had previously been enslaved or abandoned were given names, status, and a purpose to battle for something other than flame, rather than leading with cruelty. Throughout TCOSA's whole war doctrine, her dragonkin forces emerged as some of the most well-trained aerial legions. Her devoted followers refer to her as Aelythvaar, which translates to "The Sky-Mother Who Watches All Hatchings."

Indeed, she's been known to thrash entire generals for treating even one injured wyvern badly.

Notable Features:

• The ancient wyrm Eldorak gifted her with sacred threads from the First Sky Nest, which she wrapped around her left horn.
• She has the unique power to silence magic within a large radius due to her Azruv ancestry.
• She is surrounded by wounded dragons that come to her for warmth as she sleeps sitting up.

Rumor has it that she reportedly threatened to set a TCOSA war council on fire after one of her scouts was called "just another scaled beast."

She spoke lullabies no one else knew, and some dragons say they saw her cry while she held the bones of a fallen drake.

They claim that Ildilyntra is not angry. She grieves--with a blaze.

Only three of the Onyx Gulf's dragons came back after TVD's artillery assaulted them. Their eyes dimmed, their wings ripped, their scales burned. They didn't weep.

However, she did.

With wings wide enough to block out the midday sun, she descended that day--not on a horse, not through a portal, but on her own wings. Silently, she landed. Before the ash had even settled, she entered the charred field, knelt in front of the charred earth, and placed a polished bone fragment in the ground.

Then, using her flame rather than her voice, she screamed up at the sky.

The scream turned into a hurricane. Whole fleets disappeared. They did not blow a war horn. Ildilyntra made that call.

For days after that, no one reportedly saw her. The only survivors of a hatchery hit during the war, she had a net of baby drakes clinging to her back and a new scar down her collarbone when she eventually came out. She wouldn't give them to caregivers.

She reared them herself.

Her left flank is now under the command of one of those drakes. Her right, another. The third? She still holds him, big now, yet when she sleeps, he curls up against her like a hatchling.

No matter how tired or injured, dragons are always welcome to her tent. Even hybrids affected by Azruv poisons bow their heads in awe of her, not out of fear. She rarely speaks, but when she does, her words are decisive, like a divine whisper of judgment.

Nobody dares to order her to do anything, not even the other commanders.

She works for TCOSA.

However, the dragons?

She is served by them.

Nyrrhavale Realms

Most dare not utter her name, afraid to even mention her full name, Syvarellithraeza Vioranyxa.

She is simply referred to as "Viorra" within Zaellithraëynnaëxaelivornythra's tight inner circle.

She is She-Who-Binds-Fury to the dragons with spiral wings and void-glass scales that kneel in her shadow.

The Nyrrhavale Realms, a region of dragon land concealed within Zael's obscured universe, are under her authority. Eleven-layered sanctums, rather than a single world, fold into one another via recursive celestial gates. Some are blazing deserts engulfed in violet flames. Others, mind-linked drakes humming in silver forests. And one, which is merely called The Hallow Aether, contains creatures so big that they inhale galaxies into their nests.

They are all ruled by Viorra.

She doesn't speak louder.

She doesn't have to.

She came alone, wearing warlight pearls and obsidian silk, where a new breed of blood-horned wyrm attacked the ninth sanctum. The animals showed their teeth. She merely glanced--and their heads fell back in embarrassment, their tails curled in surrender.

Her dragons show loyalty based on recognition rather than a relationship. They are aware of her identity. What she conceals.

She is more lethal than any fire-twisted version, yet she does not have Azruv in her blood.

They claim that because she is half-demon, she can tether her monsters with her mind rather than chains. When her footsteps touch the stone, even the wild breeds--the ones that have eaten gods--stop.

In contrast to Ildilyntra, Viorra does not grieve.

She gathers the bones of the deceased and uses their memory to construct temples.

She keeps the skull of a Titan-class dragon who betrayed her in one of her hallowed sanctuaries.

Its lips are agape in perpetual contrition.

Even so, she only kneels once in spite of her dominance, strength, and eleven kingdoms' worth of beast-lords.

To Zael.

The Source.

She refers to the sole entity as Sovereign.

Viorra is lovely, unreadable, and terrible, walking like dusk-made flesh. Her presence distorts instinct, and her eyes contain whole storms. Without being told, even the most fearless dragons bow.

Although she doesn't talk about her background, the scars under her silks reveal the tales that predate recollection. Some claim that because she was half demon and half something worse, she was once chased as a child. However, she lived. No, she won.