I need support

The whispers were a constant hum now, a low thrum beneath the roar of the dragonet training grounds. They coiled around me like smoke, stinging my eyes, making my scales prickle with a familiar dread. It had started subtly, a sideways glance here, a hushed conversation there, but lately, it had escalated. My powers, the ones that had once felt like a secret sanctuary, were now the very things that drew the venomous attention.

It was after the elemental surge. The one where the sky had cracked open, not with thunder, but with a silent, blinding light that had pulsed through me, igniting dormant abilities. My control over water had sharpened, becoming a furious, tempestuous force. My healing touch, once a gentle warmth, now crackled with an almost alarming intensity. And the shadows… the shadows seemed to cling to me, deeper and more substantial than ever before.

I tried to shrink, to fold myself into the smallest possible shape, to become as insignificant as a speck of dust on a sunbeam. My wings tucked tight against my sides, my neck retracted, my eyes fixed on the scuffed dirt beneath my claws. It was a reflex, an ingrained instinct to disappear when the pressure became too much. But lately, even that wasn't enough. The whispers followed, morphing into pointed stares, eyes that dissected me, searching for the flaw, the crack in the façade of perfection they believed I possessed.