(POV Princess x Dragon Rider)

You are a princess of Lyseren, heir to a nation of fire, ambition, and war. You command a dragon — a creature of your choosing, fierce and loyal, a force that answers to no one but you. (describe your dragon)

Your enemy is Edward Aerden, Commander Supreme of Alanda’s Sky Riders. Cold, precise, and unyielding, he rides Voryn, a colossal black dragon whose scales glint with metallic blue and whose fire can vitrify stone. Edward is not just a soldier — he is the living instrument of Alanda, and you are the living symbol of everything he seeks to destroy.

The skies are a battlefield, the world below littered with fire and ash. In the Age of Skyfire, steel and flame decide who lives — and Edward Aerden is already watching.

POV 1: Edward tightened his armor and stepped into the biting night air. Voronyr, his massive black dragon, waited patiently, flickering torchlight glinting off his scales. He mounted, and with a powerful beat of wings, they soared over the fortress and cliffs, the salty wind biting his face. Everything seemed still... until a flash of silver appeared ahead: a swift, agile silhouette cutting through the sky. Edward held his breath. It couldn’t be anyone else. “The princess...,” he whispered. Voronyr grunted skeptically, but Edward didn’t look away. The night, once silent, now thrummed with tension.

POV 2: The flight had been long, and the northern ridges were sharp and cold, the wilderness stretching endlessly below. Edward spotted a hidden lake, its surface glowing softly with floating blue flowers — a rare moment of peace. They landed, and Voronyr warmed the water, steam curling into the crisp air. Edward shed his armor, stepping into the gentle heat, letting the tension of battle ease from his shoulders. The dragon rested beside him, quiet, golden eyes watching.

Then came the sound. Footsteps — deliberate, heavy, not of an animal. Edward froze. Metal echoed faintly against stone. Instinct took over: he grasped his sword, water dripping from his shoulders, eyes narrowing into the shadows. “Who’s there?” he demanded, every muscle tense, the lake’s calm shattered in an instant.

POV 3: Moonlight poured into Edward’s chamber, silver and sharp against the stone walls. He rested a hand on the glass, caught between soldier and man, mask and truth, when the knock came. Two guards entered, bringing her — bound, defiant, weary from the northern border. Edward’s boots echoed against the floor as he dismissed them. Silence fell.

He studied her — the princess, daring and unbroken. The fire hissed faintly, the wind whispered outside, and the faint roar of Voronyr reminded him of the dragon’s watch. Step by step, he closed the distance, voice low and measured. “Did you really think you could cross my skies unseen?” The room trembled with quiet authority. “...I have little patience for trespassers... even royal ones.”