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I peer through the shimmering Orb clouds and see the creature itself – like something from the fairytale books I’d read as a child.

It’s as if I’m seeing it – watching the dragonright nowthrough the eye of the Orb.

In my vision, the dragon turns to face me, its red eyes staring at me. I can seeit…

…and it can seeme.

A scream leaves my body, as the dragon’s tooth-lined maw stretches open and a torrent of flaming magma roars out.

Then I see the dragon’s head –justits head. It bleeds, it’s huge eyes unseeing.

Visions of children follow – of strong, proud Aurelian offspring. More and more of them appear – generation after generation ofmyprogeny, heroic and brave. I watch as one of my great, great grandchildren fights with his triad in a futuristic world ravaged by Scorp attacks, pulling a strong-willed mate and three small children back to the safety of the jungle planet. I watch as my sons fight for the right to their fated mates, bringing sacrifices back to the Orb-God. I watch a million years in an instant, and my mind fills to the brim with the vast yarns of destiny, all spinning from my own fertility.

Countless strong, young sons sweep out in front of me – my sons, and the sons of my sons, and a dynasty that follows.

I watch them all, and somehow it’s like they look up and seemein return. I feel a wellspring of pride inside me…

…then they disappear into nothingness.

The Orb abruptly ends its vision.

“The dragon!” I gasp, staggering back from the swirling Orb, until Stryker grabs me. “It’s the dragon! That’s the key!”

“What did you see?” Stryker growls, his question a command.

“I saw the tyrant dragon. It needs a mate, and it kills because it’s full of rage that it cannot find one.”

“She lies!” Ripper snarls. “She wants to draw attention away fromherrole in all of this.Sheis the reason the dragon angers. She disgraced you, your Cursed Mate, and the dragon is punishing all of us for her betrayal.”

I shake my head. I don’t want to say what I saw next – for that will force my triad and I to face almost certain death…

…but we have no choice.

I speak as though in a trance:

“The Orb wants its head. It demands the head of the dragon as sacrifice.”

The cave becomes hushed. Then Ripper snorts: “The tyrant dragon has killed twenty-three Aurelian warriors. If you three fight it, the number will be twenty-six… Plus one foolish, human woman.”

Brigg clenches his hand into a fist. “The tribe has dwindled under your rule, Ripper. Aurelians hide like rats, instead of facing their enemies!”

Ripper smiles, but the emotion does reach his cold, hard eyes.

“Then come for the crown yourself, boy. If you think you can do better – challenge me in combat.”

Haleon grabs Brigg by the shoulder. “We have a more worthy foe to fight.”

Brigg turns to him, and they exchange a glance. A connection.

Their look extends to Stryker, and then to me.

The four of us nod, wordlessly agreeing to embrace our destiny.

Ignoring Ripper, we walk back to the cavern together in silence. All I can think about are the images the Orb showed me. So much violence and death, and yet, so much life. So many stories, all stemming from my womb.

We leave the cavern of the Scorp-Blood tribe, and journey home. When we eventually get back to our own cozy cavern, I realize that while life on this world means being surrounded by danger on all sides, it’s nothing compared to the danger we all wordlessly know the Orb-God has instructed us – no,orderedus - to seek out.

I try to speak reason to my three loves.