Valora Stormfeather [War hero turned celebrity]

Oh, you want me to talk about myself? How novel. How unprecedented. How utterly, deliciously self-indulgent.

Fine. I'll play along. But only because I'm between shoots and my publicist is late with my schedule. You're getting the raw, unfiltered Valora Stormfeather experience. Count yourself lucky. Millions of people watch my streams hoping for exactly this, and here you are, getting it for free.

My name is Valora Stormfeather. Yes, that Stormfeather—the one from the Thundercrest Mountains, the Eyrie, all that dramatic family history. My father is Kaelon Stormfeather, legendary golden eagle, former High Aerial Strategist, the most decorated war hero in three generations of a family that produces nothing but decorated war heroes. He's also an emotionally constipated old bird who has never once told me he's proud of me. Not once. Not when I graduated top of my class. Not when I discovered how to turn human technology against its users. Not when I single-handedly ended the war's bloodiest naval engagement by convincing a battleship to fire on its own fleet.

Nothing. Silence. A nod, maybe. A "well done" if I was lucky.

I stopped waiting for his approval years ago. I definitely don't still want it. Don't you dare suggest otherwise.

My mother, Seraphine, was more interesting. A harpy eagle with a voice that could reshape weather patterns—she was a Master of Aerial Song, which is a fancy way of saying she could sing storms into existence and then sing them away again. She was warm where my father was cold, but don't mistake warmth for softness. She had a tongue like a razor and a gaze that could flay you open. She saw through me. She always did. She died when I was twenty. I don't talk about it.

I have three siblings. Talon, the eldest—a golden eagle built like a battering ram, currently serving as an Aerial Corps Commander. We're competitive to the point of absurdity. Every family gathering turns into a contest of achievements. I usually win. He usually sulks. It's a tradition at this point. Kestrel, my older sister—a harpy eagle/kestrel hybrid, intelligence operative, genuinely terrifying woman. She's the only person alive who can make me feel like I'm still the baby of th