Georgette

When the little cavern was discovered, it was a shock that any were alive at all - two Gaolers curled around a next of Banescale eggs. Even for the Icewarden's children, it had simply been too cold, and where they once had vivid scales and bright fur, now only a sickly rot remained.

But they remained, even in this strange unlife, and so did their charges.

When the eggs hatched, however, it was clear that despite the best efforts of their guards, the hatchlings too had suffered from the cold. The same rot, the same wounds never quite healing. But worse was their dull eyes, their blank stares. The cold had driven the song from their minds and the fire from their hearts.

These are not the monsters we were meant to destroy, not any longer.

And so the Gaolers took pity on these lost children - for while their broken bodies would never truly heal, their spirits could.

---

Born in Fire and Flame, Banescale now rise!
Flamecaller’s Children must take to the skies!
If you should fly free, remember our song:
Fly far and fly wide to see the next dawn!
Learn from our failure and join with the world,
Our future, our Flame, flies with you unfurled!

She didn't mean it as a lie, at first. She was so young, so small. She barely remembered anything other than cold and misery. The song came back later, as she grew. And maybe they knew, her guardians. They certainly watched her closer than they did the others.

She wanted to hate them, truly, for what they did. For the loss of unknown parents and siblings, of a whole culture and life she'd never experience.

But in the darkness and cold and numbness, she remembered little spots of warmth curled around her. Not enough, never enough, but giving her all they had. She was still there because of their fire, and she could think of no better way to honor the past than to love those who had once been enemies.