Chapter 61: Segregation for Power

Royal Decree of Queen Yuqi

To all dragons of every class and clan:

It is with a heavy heart and unwavering resolve that I address you now, dragons of every color, clan, and lineage. For generations, we have lived under laws and customs whose roots we never thought to question. We trusted in the wisdom of our ancestors and the righteousness of our traditions, believing they existed for the good of all dragonkind. Yet the time has come to confront a truth long hidden from us—a truth that strikes at the very heart of who we are, and who we might become.

Through careful study and the unsealing of ancient records, I have discovered that we have all been deceived by a powerful and cunning ploy. The very customs that shaped our society, that separated us by class and forbade bonds between dragons of different standing, were never designed for our protection or well-being. Instead, they were crafted to keep power concentrated in the hands of a privileged few, while the majority of dragons remained divided and subdued. The deception was so complete, so deeply woven into the fabric of our history, that even the noblest among us came to believe it was for the greater good.

The so-called prohibition against dragons mating above or below their social station—the law that was passed down to us as a sacred tradition—was, in truth, a calculated falsehood. We were told that these restrictions existed to protect our people, to preserve the sanctity of the mate bond and to prevent abuses of power. But these justifications were a mask for the real intent. The lie was crafted by the noble class of old to ensure that power, magic, and influence would remain tightly bound within their privileged bloodlines. By forbidding unions between dragons of different classes, the nobles prevented the natural sharing and equalization of magical strength that occurs through true mate bonds. Any dragon born outside the noble houses was deliberately kept from ever gaining power that could threaten the established order. The law was not an act of protection, but a weapon wielded to keep the majority of dragons divided, disempowered, and unable to unite in challenge against those at the top. This was the great deception: that what we believed to be a safeguard was, in fact, a chain.

When two dragons complete a true mating bond, even if their power levels differ greatly, something extraordinary occurs. The magical nature of the bond itself bestows a gift upon the weaker partner, drawing upon the strength of the more powerful dragon to lift the other up. The lesser dragon does not simply gain a trivial boost—they receive a profound surge in magical energy and abilities, closing the gap between them and their mate. Over time, this power equalization enables both dragons to stand side by side as true equals, each supporting and complementing the other. The bond is not a shackle, but a channel through which both dragons are strengthened, ensuring that neither is left vulnerable or diminished. This truth was hidden for centuries: that the mate bond was always meant to empower, never to oppress.

The nobles of ages past viewed this natural balance as a threat to their authority—a danger that could topple the hierarchy they had so carefully constructed. Fearing the rise of powerful new bloodlines that might challenge their dominance, they devised a system of rigid social classes and enforced it through law and tradition. By outlawing bonds between dragons of different classes, they not only concealed the truth of the mate bond’s power but also engineered a society in which privilege would be inherited and never earned. Generations of dragons were born into weakness not by fate, but by deliberate design. Any hope of upward mobility was extinguished before it could ignite; the classes became cages, and the nobles the keepers of the keys. Through this manipulation, the ancient nobles ensured that the power and influence at the top would never be diluted, and that those below would remain divided, powerless to unite and challenge the status quo. The true tragedy is that this scheme was so insidious, so successful, that it became invisible even to those who suffered under it.

This deception endured for so many centuries because those who orchestrated it took deliberate steps to bury the truth. The records that described the mate bond’s true nature were hidden, altered, or destroyed, so that no dragon outside the most privileged circles could question the new reality. Over time, even the descendants of the original conspirators forgot the reasons behind the law, and it became a pillar of society—unchallenged, unexamined, and accepted as fact. Generations lived and died under a system whose origins had been erased from memory, their lives shaped by a tradition no one was allowed to question.

Before I uncovered these ancient truths, I made the decision to abolish the prohibition against mating across social classes. My heart told me that every dragon deserved the chance to love their true mate, regardless of lineage or rank. Now, with the truth brought into the light, you all can understand why such a law was put in place so long ago, and why it must never be allowed to return. My hope is that by revealing the true history, every dragon can reclaim their right to love freely and see the wisdom in letting old wounds heal.

My duty as your Queen is not to preserve an unjust hierarchy, nor is it to serve the comfort of those who have benefited from centuries of inequality. My crown does not give me license to uphold traditions that harm our people or to silence those who question the past. I do not exist to maintain the status quo for its own sake, or to protect the interests of a privileged few at the expense of the many.

My true duty is to strengthen dragonkind. It is to ensure that every dragon, regardless of birth or lineage, has the opportunity to fulfill their potential and live with dignity. It is to bring truth where there has been ignorance, unity where there has been division, and hope where there has been despair. I am called to lead with honesty and courage, to listen to the voices of my people, and to use my authority to heal old wounds rather than deepen them. Above all, I believe it is my responsibility to empower every dragon to rise, so that together, we may build a future worthy of our kind.

I will not allow fear to dictate our future, nor will I permit the ambitions of a privileged few to suppress the potential of the many. Let dragons choose their mates freely, without regard for status, and let our people grow stronger through the bonds that nature itself intended.

I choose to strengthen our race, not hold it back.

This is the purpose behind my revelations—not to divide us, but to unite us through truth. I share this history so that we may finally break free from the chains of old lies and build a future together, one where no dragon is held back by secrets or unjust tradition. My greatest wish is that dragonkind grows stronger as one, with every bond formed in love and trust serving to lift us all. May you find the courage to seek your true mate without fear, and may love—not the demands of the past—guide your heart. Let us move forward as a people renewed, forging a realm where strength is shared, and happiness is not sacrificed for the sake of an outdated status quo.

With hope for our future,

Yuqi

Queen of All Dragons

Once I pressed my palm to the parchment and pushed my magical power into the paper, the decree awakened with a brilliant golden light. Ancient runes flared across the page, carrying not only my words but the force of my intent. In that instant, the truth I had written was woven into the very currents of dragon magic, ensuring that every dragon—no matter how distant—would receive the message. The knowledge would appear before their eyes as if delivered by fate itself, impossible to ignore or deny. In this way, my decree would cross every mountain, river, and sky, uniting dragonkind in a single moment of revelation.

I leaned back in my chair at my small, cluttered desk, the last traces of magical shimmer fading from the loose-leaf paper in my hand. The familiar hum of the house drifted in from the hallway—a reminder that, here in the Earth Realm, Sapphire and I were just two teenagers trying to pass as normal humans. We wore our cute pajamas, our eyes heavy from a lack of sleep, and the only thing marking us as different was the secret thrum of dragon magic beneath our skin—a magic neither of us could fully unlock.

"There," I whispered, my voice tight with awe and disbelief. The decree was gone, carried away by magic I could finally control, destined for every dragon in every realm.

Sapphire sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by textbooks and half-folded laundry. She looked up, her eyes wide. "You actually did it."

I managed a nod, suddenly aware of the weight of what I’d done. "I did."

Sapphire let out a low, nervous laugh. "You know this is going to start a riot, right? The nobles, the old families—they're going to freak out. Even the regular dragons... no one’s ever seen anything like this."

I grinned despite my nerves, the unreality of the moment settling in. "Yeah. It's going to shake everything up."

We sat there in silence for a moment, two teenagers in pajamas, living in a world that didn’t know dragons existed. But somewhere out there, in places we’d only been told about the Dragon Realm, our words—my words—were about to change everything. The powerful would be furious, the weak would find new hope, and the old lies would finally be dragged into the light.

And all of it had started here, in a cramped bedroom on Earth, with two dragons who still looked like ordinary kids, daring to imagine a better world.

The former nobles would see it as an attack on everything they had built. Lower-class dragons would realize that generations of weakness had been manufactured, not ordained. Historians would begin digging through forgotten records. Families would question traditions that had existed for centuries.

I could already picture how quickly this would blow up in the Dragon Realm. By sunrise, every dragon who could sense magic would have seen my words flash before their eyes—nobles waking in their palatial halls, laborers pausing in their fields, students gossiping in the city squares. The news would travel faster than wildfire, igniting every conversation, every gathering, every den and council chamber. Dragons who had long accepted the old order as unchangeable would be reeling, questioning, scrambling to make sense of it all.

By midday, I imagined, the first arguments would erupt in public: nobles denouncing my decree as heresy, commoners daring to hope aloud for the first time in generations. Allies and rivals alike would be forced to take sides. By nightfall, the Dragon Realm would be in uproar—every tradition, every alliance, every unspoken rule suddenly up for debate.

By the next morning, my prediction was no longer just a possibility—it was unfolding across the Dragon Realm with breathtaking speed and intensity. Messages flooded in from every province and city: some dragons wept with joy, others raged in disbelief, and everywhere the air crackled with argument and anticipation. In the grand halls of the nobles, outrage and panic reigned as ancient families scrambled to contain the fallout. In the marketplaces, dragons of every color and age clustered together, whispering and shouting, their voices rising above the clamor as old certainties shattered in real time. News outlets ran endless stories, scholars debated in public forums, and even the youngest hatchlings sensed that everything had changed overnight.

The Dragon Realm had erupted into chaos, just as I had foreseen. But beneath the chaos, I could already sense the first embers of something new—hope, defiance, and the raw energy of a world waking up from centuries of silence.

Every major news outlet in the Dragon Realm was ablaze with headlines about my decree. The airwaves and news scrolls were filled with heated interviews, panel discussions, and live debates. Scholars, historians, and magical theorists crowded into public forums and university halls, poring over ancient manuscripts and dissecting every word of the revelation. Some argued passionately in favor of the evidence, pointing to long-overlooked passages and hidden truths. Others clung stubbornly to tradition, insisting that the old ways could not have been based on such a grand deception.

On every street and in every den, dragons from all walks of life were glued to their scrying stones and listening crystals, eager for the latest expert opinions. The question echoed across the realm, from the grandest city to the smallest mountain village: Had they been lied to for centuries? The debate was relentless, and it seemed that every dragon with a voice or a pen was determined to weigh in.

The response from the noble houses came with calculated speed and precision. Almost every major house released a carefully worded public statement within hours, their messages flooding the airwaves as if coordinated in advance. They insisted, "Queen Yuqi has misinterpreted the ancient records," and declared that the prohibition against cross-class mating was always intended to protect the vulnerable from exploitation, not to cement inequality. Some even painted dramatic images of powerful dragons coercing the weak, claiming that such laws were necessary safeguards.

The noble houses framed their narrative in language that sounded noble and self-sacrificing, painting themselves as guardians of the lower classes. "Without such laws, powerful dragons could force weaker dragons into unequal mate bonds," they argued, ignoring the well-known magical truth that a true mating bond could never be forced.

They went further, suggesting that the Queen's conclusions were based on a selective or incomplete reading of the historical texts, casting doubt on the authenticity of the evidence presented. Some houses even went so far as to claim that the original purpose of the law had always been one of compassion rather than control, rewriting history and casting themselves as benevolent protectors.

It was a masterclass in gaslighting: denying the truth, distorting the past, and appealing to the public's emotions—all in an attempt to maintain the status quo and protect their own power.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I scrolled through the noble houses' public statements on my phone. The justifications filled the screen—layers of flowery language and self-congratulation, all trying to reframe centuries of oppression as benevolent stewardship.

"They're trying to rewrite history while accusing me of rewriting history," I muttered, my voice edged with disbelief and a hint of amusement.

Sapphire, sprawled on her bed and reading over my shoulder, let out a loud snort. "They're not even being subtle. Look at this—one of them actually wrote that their family 'sacrificed their own happiness for the stability of the realm.' As if they weren't the ones benefiting the whole time."

I shook my head, both exasperated and unsurprised. "No. They're doing exactly what I expected. They don't care about the truth—they care about staying on top, no matter what it takes."

Sapphire leaned closer, scanning another statement. "It's like they're hoping if they say the same lie enough times, everyone will forget it was ever a lie."

"That's the oldest trick in the book," I said. "But this time, the evidence speaks for itself. The truth is out, and they're not going to gaslight us back into silence."

At first glance, the nobles' argument seemed almost reasonable. If a powerful dragon truly could force a weaker one into a mate bond, then it would make sense to have strict laws to prevent exploitation. The story tapped into a primal fear, painting the old nobility as protectors of the vulnerable.

But that argument unraveled the moment you actually stopped to think about how true dragon bonds worked. It was well known—taught in every introductory lesson about dragon magic and relationships—that a true mating bond could never be forced. It required the willing acceptance of both dragons. Without mutual desire and consent, the bond simply wouldn't form, regardless of how much power one dragon had over the other.

The nobles knew this perfectly well. Anyone with even a basic education in dragon biology understood it. Their narrative only sounded plausible if you didn't pause to question it—if you trusted their word more than your own common sense. They were banking on the average dragon being too distracted or too intimidated to look beyond the surface of their argument. But for anyone willing to think for just a minute, the truth was obvious: their justification was a smokescreen, nothing more.

Sapphire looked over at me, her eyes searching my face for some sign of a plan.

"So... what are you going to do about the nobles' claims?" she asked quietly.

I hesitated, fingers drumming restlessly on my desk. "My father was the one who first told me the old stories didn’t add up. He never challenged the law openly, but he said there were records—real proof—hidden in the Queen’s Library. That’s how I knew where to look. The problem is, the Queen’s Library can only be accessed by a reigning queen. And even then, only in the Dragon Realm."

I slumped back in my chair. "I’m not even sure when I’ll be able to get there. I haven’t fully awakened yet, and without my true form, I can’t travel between realms."

Sapphire hugged her knees to her chest, looking thoughtful. "So they’re betting you can’t get more evidence to shut them down. They think you’re stuck."

I nodded. "They’re hoping the public will forget, or that their gaslighting will work before I can show the rest of the truth. But if I ever do gain access to the Queen’s Library, I know there are more records—maybe even accounts from the dragons who made the laws in the first place."

Sapphire’s eyes narrowed, a spark of determination lighting in her gaze. "So, until then, we fight them with what we have. And when you finally awaken, you bury them in proof."

I managed a smile, feeling the familiar fire of stubbornness burn in my chest. "Exactly. They really have no idea how much I enjoy proving people wrong."

A Response from Queen Yuqi

The response from several noble houses has unfolded exactly as I expected. First, they deny—not just the evidence, but even the possibility that the old laws could have served any purpose other than protection. Then, they deflect—drawing on emotional appeals and worst-case scenarios, hoping to distract dragonkind from the very real evidence before us. And finally, they attempt to diffuse the issue by offering an alternative explanation, rewriting history in a way that conveniently keeps their power and privilege intact.

This is a time-worn playbook: deny, deflect, and distort. It is not a defense of truth, but a desperate attempt to maintain the status quo. I urge every dragon to look closely at what is being said—and what is not. Notice how quickly the conversation shifts away from evidence and toward fear, how the nobles rely on your trust in tradition rather than your trust in facts. When those in power are challenged, they rarely invite scrutiny; instead, they attempt to bury the truth beneath layers of rhetoric and nostalgia.

History has shown us that, when those in power are confronted with an uncomfortable truth, their reactions follow a familiar playbook. First, they deny the new information, hoping to sow doubt and confusion. Next, they deflect, redirecting attention to emotional arguments or unrelated fears. Finally, they attempt to distort the narrative, rewriting history so that their actions appear justified or even noble. This pattern is not unique to our time or our kind—it is the reflex of anyone who feels their authority threatened by the light of truth.

But there is a way forward, and I offer it to the noble houses now. The law that divided us was put in place so long ago that its true purpose has been lost to history. I do not believe most of you knowingly perpetuated a lie. Like many of us, you inherited a tradition without ever receiving its full history. You acted on what you were taught, as generations before you have.

For those who wish to see the evidence for themselves, I invite you to consult the records preserved in the Queen's Library—the only place where the original documents detailing the origins and motives of these laws have been safeguarded for centuries. The truth is there for any who would seek it. Let us move forward together, not as adversaries clinging to old wounds, but as a people willing to learn, to grow, and to heal.

Throughout this turbulent time, I have remained in close contact with my parents. Despite the distance between the realms, their wisdom and support have been an anchor for me. They are always a message or dream away, ready with advice or comfort whenever I need it most. My father, in particular, played a crucial role in guiding me toward the hidden truths of our history, whispering stories and questions that led me to seek out the records in the Queen’s Library. My mother has often guided me in my duties and dragon ways even from the God Realm. While she is not allowed to interact with me directly, she still offers me guidance and a direction to look for answers.

The truth is, until the very night I sent out my decree, I had no history at all with my father. I didn’t know his face, his voice, or even his name. He was a mystery—an absence I’d learned not to question, because there were never any answers. The night everything changed, he appeared for the first time, and in that moment I realized how much of my own story I was still uncovering. Since then, his guidance has been invaluable, but it is all so new—sometimes I feel like I’m learning to trust both him and myself at once.

My mother, on the other hand, has been a quiet presence throughout my journey to awakening my dragon nature. She has never been able to reach me directly—her place in the God Realm keeps her at arm’s length—but her voice has come to me in dreams and moments of doubt, nudging me toward the right choices. Sometimes her words are gentle, other times fierce, but always full of love and the wisdom of one who has seen more than I can imagine.

Though we are separated by realms and circumstance, my parents have never let me feel entirely alone in the responsibilities I bear. Their help—sometimes practical, sometimes simply the reassurance that I am not alone—has been vital as I navigate the challenges of truth, tradition, and change.

For generations, dragonkind has been ruled by fear—fear that sharing power would disrupt the hierarchy, fear that common dragons might one day stand beside nobles as equals, and fear of losing privilege above all else. The powerful have sustained their rule not through transparency or merit, but by instilling anxiety and mistrust, ensuring that every challenge to the old order was met with suspicion or outright hostility.

I reject this way of ruling. I will not govern through fear, secrecy, or the desperate clinging to power. My reign will be defined by truth and accountability. I became your Queen by virtue of my bloodline, but I intend to remain worthy of that position only by earning the trust of dragonkind—through honesty, fairness, and the willingness to be questioned.

If any dragon—regardless of class, title, or station—believes I am mistaken, I invite you to come forward. Bring your evidence. Bring historical records. Bring facts. I welcome scrutiny and debate, for the truth does not fear examination, and neither do I. I will not accept opinions, assumptions, or traditions whose origins have been lost to time as proof. We must seek what is real, not what is comfortable. Only through this commitment to truth can we hope to heal, to grow stronger, and to build a realm where no dragon need fear losing what makes them whole.

—Yuqi
Queen of All Dragons

This response made my position unmistakably clear to all of dragonkind. I was not seeking blind loyalty or obedience simply because I wore the crown—I was inviting scrutiny. My rulings would stand or fall on the strength of evidence, not on the weight of tradition or the authority of my title. I openly acknowledged that I could be wrong, and that if anyone—noble or common—could present facts or historical records that truly contradicted my conclusions, I would listen, reconsider, and if necessary, admit my mistake and change course.

For too long, the crown had been a shield for the unchallengeable power of those who ruled. I meant to break that cycle. I wanted my people to understand that truth and accountability would be the foundation of my reign. Only in a realm where even the Queen can be questioned—with proof, not prejudice—can we ever hope to find justice and real progress.