Above is a map of Miras

Myra's Point-of-View

Myra Isidore stood proudly on the top of the mountain as the sun rose, not feeling the cold that trickled through. The light of today's dawn was brighter than usual, even for summer, the one bearable season in the mountains. The wind rustled through her dark red hair, blowing strands back. She gazed from the second-highest peak in the Hawk Mountains, down on the queendom she was heir to.

The Hawk Mountains was home of the valkyrie warriors. It was here that Miras' mighty army resided, and here that the mountains kept their ancient vigil over the land, protecting it from what lay to the south.

Down on the fields surrounded by the mountain range, the faint forms of valkyries warred, the gleam of steel streaking across the plains. They were up before the dawn to spar each day, ready, as always, for war.

Myra would have been with them if she didn't have her own preparations to make, not for battle but for the Initiation Ceremony that would take place in mere hours. Simply putting on her ceremonial armour took an unjustified amount of time.

It was made of enchanted steel stolen from the elves for this very purpose, painted blue and decorated with dragons. Made up of the boots, the body and the helmet, it barely allowed her the room to breathe, which was why she had taken off the helmet, more of a steel mask designed to look like a dragon's face.

She knew that if anyone was to look at her, they would see a warrior: her dark red hair that looked so much like blood tied back, her piercing blue eyes cold, her face proudly bearing a scar that had almost sliced into her eye.

Silent, she stared out at the ocean so beloved by her people, the ocean where valkyrie children crawled out of the sea.

She heard the footsteps behind her with the ease of the valkyries' sharp senses and turned to see Queen Viktoria. Her mouth quirked into a smile as she beheld her familiar face: her black hair neatly wrapped around her head in braids, her dark olive skin flecked with the scars that she knew too well. Her deep brown eyes were filled with a compassion that had helped Myra through the death of her mother, and a humour that had driven her insane the rest of the time.

"Are you ready?" Viktoria asked. She only nodded.

"Do you think they are?" She asked her queen, after a moment of silence.

"Of course. You have trained them well." Myra was silent, considering.

"You worry too much," Viktoria chastised her. "It's Initiation Day. You're meant to be happy. Lyra certainly knows that you were over the moon on your own one."

Despite herself, Myra smiled at the fond memory. The day was the culmination of nine years of training to join the valkyrie armies, nine years of waking at dawn and not sleeping until long after night had fallen. It was the day that determined their entire lives and she remembered how glorious it had felt, to feel the blades of Viktoria and her predecessor, Celia, on her shoulder. To swear the oath to protect the cities, the other valkyrie queen and her heir-still unchosen at the time. To be named the Dragon, a name she had carried with honour and held almost as dear as the secret and infinitely precious True Name she kept nestled deep within herself.

More glorious than that, though, was to be crowned High General of the Valkyrie armies after saving Viktoria's life in battle.

Myra closed her eyes, the wind whipping in her face, and thought back to that day...

The valkyries were being pushed back, giving up more and more land as they fought. The elves rode pegasi against the wyverns of the valkyries' forces, and the two clashed in a thick of fighting, swords and arrows from one side, lightning and fire from the other.

Exhaustion was heavy through all three units: calvary, foot soldiers and riders, but the queen and her generals tried to keep the morale high. The world had become nothing more than a cluster of steel and flame as Caelia, her wyvern, was forced to move as swiftly as the wind itself to avoid the lightning and fire raining down on them. She was half-blind from those flashes of erratic storm.

Then the word went across the lines: The Queen has fallen. Celia is dead.

After that, everything happened so quickly she didn't have time to think. She had led Caelia through the panicking ranks of wyverns to find Viktoria, because she needed to name her heir immediately or the army would collapse. She had seen the wave of fire in her peripheral vision and the next thing she knew she was jumping off Caelia and pushing Viktoria off her wyvern, and the two were tumbling down through the air, Viktoria's dead steed unable to save them.

Then came a sudden, loud thud as she hit the back of Caelia-still gripping onto her High General-both of them covered in burns and bruises.

Her wyvern had flown them to the medics soon afterwards, but she still possessed considerable burns on her shoulder. Viktoria had named Myra her heir a mere twenty minutes afterwards, and the word of it spread down the army ranks like wildfire.

It had caused quite an uproar at the time-traditionally, the heir was chosen from a group of officials far higher-ranked than Myra had been. Certainly not a fifty-year-old warrior, who was the valkyrie equivalent of nineteen.

"Come on, day-dreamer," Viktoria urged, and Myra blinked, and her friend gave her a lazy grin. Together, they hiked down from the mountain. By the time they reached the ground, the sun was a bright stream through the mountain peaks.

It took an hour for everyone to assemble, but in the end, they stood, on the tired field, the initiates in the front. Their faces were filled with a nervous excitement and she allowed a smile in memory of the day she had been one of them.

Myra Isidore gazed at the ranks of her army, and felt power crackle in her veins. She wore a cloak of darkest purple that billowed in the wind, kept on her shoulders with silver claw-like clasps. She was tall and lithe, wearing brutal scars from swords and magic alike. One was dangerously near her left eye and had almost left her half-blind.

Her hair, pinned in a tight braid, was as red as blood on her pale skin. Her armour, whilst ornate and impractical, was rather beautiful. Her long boots concealed short, sharp daggers. Twin sheaths dangled by her side, concealing swords even more ornate than her amour. The blades was blue and sharp, the hilts an elaborate affair, crafted to look like dragons. In fact, the girl seemed to follow that theme of them, with the dragon symbol on her armour and the cold steel crown that warped and twisted hiding a dragonfly hairclip.

Myra was beautiful in the way that ice was beautiful. Cold. Glacial. Unyielding.

The Hawk Mountains stood proudly against the sky, ringing the plains and watching the beloved sea of the valkyries. The warriors who called the mountain range their home stood proud too. Everyone in the Hawk Mountains was a trained soldier, deadly warriors to the bone. Each had senses beyond mortal comprehension, reflexes swift as wind, speed and strength that meant humans stood no chance against them, not to mention supernatural healing and endurance that made them the greatest warriors to ever walk the earth.

They were so far apart from their gentle sisters, the Keepers who stored knowledge and practiced arts and sciences. The Keepers they were sworn to protect.

Leading the valkyries, leading Miras, were the two sister-queens: Queen Viktoria of the Warriors and Queen Vera of the Keepers. Viktoria now stood beside Myra, watching her army with the same assessment. Myra was striking, yes, but this woman was imperial. She was a queen. Her cloak was deepest blue, flying in the wind, her crown spiked and cold, made of sapphires and steel

Vera's crown was sparkling quartz, elegant, beautiful and shaped like a phoenix. Her hair was black and flecked with grey, cascading down to her elbows. Unlike the women standing beside her, she had a kind smile, a motherly smile. Her eyes were a sparkling green, her skin olive like Viktoria's. She was tall, not as tall as Viktoria and Myra, but more graceful than either. She did not wear armour, but a long, white dress that was lined with gold. She wasn't imperial or striking. Neither young nor old. She had the grace and beauty and timelessness of a swan.

Viktoria spoke first, no notes in her hands, because she had already memorised her speech.

"Thirty years ago, a brutal and bloody war with the elves ended at last. For centuries, millions of valkyries lay down their lives to protect our sisters in the cities. To protect the children of Belle as we have always been destined and proud to do.

"Warrior Queens, their heirs and their generals laid down their lives along with their soldiers. We did not hide behind our titles. We were willing to die with them, for we see them as just the same as we are. For we are sisters. Sisters in our souls, sisters of the sea.

"That is why we fight every day, for the dreams our ancestors shared. To protect the cities of learning and knowledge, to defend the bright candle of truth we valkyries have always defended and will always fight for.

"It is now upon us, upon you, to honour that legacy. To be worthy of all of those who gave the lives to protect what we now have today. Be brave. Be strong. And do not let the candle go out. Sisters in soul,"

"Sisters of the sea." The crowd replied, the words ringing in their ears.

"May Rose Lisell come forward." Myra called out. Instead of going by alphabetical order, the valkyries went by order of success. This girl would be the top of her class, as Myra had been so many years ago. The girl stepped forward; her blonde hair carefully braided in typical Initiation style.

She knelt before Viktoria and Myra as she reached them but kept her head held high. Over the past nine years, the initiate had earned that privilege.

"Rose Mariasdaughter Lisell, you are here today to be recognised as a soldier of the valkyrie army. You have spent nine years in training and been placed the highest of all your fellow students. This is a great honour, and a great pride." Myra smiled.

"Captain Maria Lisell, please come forward." A red-haired, green-eyed young woman stepped forward, beaming with pride at her daughter. Finally recognising the name Lisell, Myra nodded at the valkyrie, and passed her a gleaming sword. She placed it on her daughter's shoulder. Myra took the blade, getting her usual nerves about slicing the girl's head off, and carefully lying the sword on Rose. She then passed it to Viktoria, who repeated the motion.

"Do you swear," Myra began. "To serve your comrades honourably, to never flee from danger and to spend your last breath fighting for your fellow warriors?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to give your life, your pride, your dreams, your glory, and all else you possess up if necessary to protect your fellow soldiers, to protect the Keeper cities, the Queen Vera, her hidden heir and all that might follow them?"

"I do." Rose said again. All around them valkyries held their fingers to their foreheads to seal the oath. They weren't just here for the ceremony. It was their duty to witness and bind each initiate's vow.

Turning around to take a sword with a hilt shaped like a howling wolf, she passed the blade to Rose. The sword would mimic the initiate's animal form-the shape that every valkyrie possessed, Keeper or Warrior, and could shift into at any time. Myra's own was a snow leopard; it was only her achievements in the army that had kept her from taking the name of Snow Leopard, like Rose would take the name of Wolf.

"Then I name you Wolf, a daughter of Sarai, and welcome you into our ranks." Rose gazed at the beautiful hilt with awe, then rose to her feet. As she walked away, Myra didn't fail to notice the tears in her eyes.

"May Mia Karasdaughter Surducan come forward."

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With one hundred to be initiated, the ceremony dragged on for hours. Even Vera was losing the diligent air of a holy goddess on earth that she had somehow mastered.

Myra found herself scanning the faces of every new initiate in the crowd, searching for something in their eyes, the something Viktoria had told her to watch out for. She found that mettle shining back at her in only two eyes:Rose and Mia's. Of course. They had proven themselves best in their group.

Indeed, Myra had assigned them under the care of a captain known to take chances with younger warriors and expected them to shoot through the ranks like most of the others called first had. Naturally, they couldn't be told this. It only served to inflate their egos, which were usually already plenty healthy.

The various celebrations that followed the official ceremony were far more enjoyable than the Initiation itself. It was one of the rare occasions when the valkyries allowed themselves to indulge in things like chocolate and even fireworks.. Between Vera, Kestra and Viktoria she hardly ever got to enjoy sugar, because the two queens were surprisingly good thieves, and her daughter need only look at her with those big blue eyes to ensure that Myra's share of sweet treats was donated.

Oh, Lyra and Belle and Sarai too, that fudge was good. She turned to see Viktoria unceremoniously down two and poke out her now brown tongue.

"Behold Her Majesty, Queen Viktoria Isidore."

"Speaking of Vera," Viktoria replied, cunningly changing the subject. "Are you excited to finally stop staring at the calendar waiting for her heir to arrive?" Myra smiled slightly at the thought of the long summer holidays, at the thought of spending the coming weeks with Kestra. Kestra, the Keeper heir and her daughter. Viktoria continued talking, seemingly unaware that Myra was lost in her thoughts.

"At some point, you need to delegate the upkeep of the army to one of the Unit Generals-I recommend Ruby-and come to Azul, for goodness sake. You have no idea what you're missing out on. There is so much more fudge there-enough for all four of us. You'll get to see Kestra every day-are you listening, Myra? Myra-" Viktoria sighed and shook her shoulder. When she didn't react, she waved her hand between her eyes and the distant horizon she was staring out at.

"At some point, you can stop being the Dragon. You know that, right? I know everyone thinks you're some untiring demigod and I've seen you fight-I'm not disagreeing-but you have a family. We may not be normal, but we're still people. You can't miss your daughter's childhood."

"I don't," Myra disagreed, but her protest was a weak one and both of them knew it.

"You see her on holidays and long weekends," Viktoria moaned. "Even then, you're all very busy. Vera and I can't do all of it, you know." Myra sighed. As much as she loved her friend, she could be a tad manipulative, playing on the guilt she already had. Seeing she had the advantage, Viktoria ploughed on.

"And you've done so much for the past thirty years-you've rebuilt our whole army! Come on, Myra-kat. No one will think less of you if you moved into the palace and left Ruby to deal with day-to-day business. You can always come back if there is sight or sign of war. You know you've been preparing Ruby to take over from you. She'll make a good High General when the time comes, and she can handle some of it now."

"My life is here, Viktoria." She protested weakly.

"No," the queen said firmly. "Your life is in Azul. It is waiting for you there, my friend. It paints and eats all your chocolate and answers to Kestra. You can still spend time here-I'm not asking you to leave it behind-and train with me every day in the palace. But our family is incomplete without you. We don't need the Dragon-your daughter doesn't need the Dragon. We need Myra-Kat."

"Fine." She said weakly.

"Really? Yes!" She exclaimed and shoved some more fudge in her mouth for emphasis.

"So queenly," Myra laughed. "When Kestra heads back to school, I'll come back with her." She smiled weakly. "You're right. Recently...I'm less needed than I used to be. They don't need me to rebuild the army. Presuming of course, that the fifth member of our family gets to come..."

"You can bring the damn wyvern." Viktoria mumbled. "As long as she doesn't chew on my boots again."

"She was a chick!" Myra protested.

"You didn't say that then. No, the lovely and much-missed Private Myra grovelled at my feet after her wyvern went on a rampage and destroyed the high general's boots."

"Private Myra is a creature of the past."

"Well then, let's head off. Kestra can't get herself to the top of the mountains no matter how much we call her Kestrel or how much she wishes her form was a bird rather than a snow-fox."

Kestra's form was unusually powerful for a Keeper, even though it was rather small for a fox. The silvery-gray animal, swift as an arrow and highly intelligent, that she could shift into was extremely rare, and only ever found deep within the mountains. Those who could assume its form were equally uncommon. Kestra loved her form-but she would also have loved to be able to scrape the tips of the sky with her wings.

Hand in hand, queen and general walked down the long-trodden path to the small gap in the mountains, humming a tune on their way. Kestra was coming, the girl that they both loved dearly. The semblance of calm abandoned Myra entirely when the valkyrie heir's carriage came to a stop at the pass, and the Dragon rushed to her daughter, no longer a Dragon at all.

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Please tell me what you think! Layla and Myra's worlds are very different. What point-of-view do you prefer so far?