The glorious canyon and plains rolled out in front of my new cave landing, with the great River South flowing fast through the canyon walls. Flitting through the canyons, a rainbow of draconic scale flashes against the walls. If the sun was at its zenith, the canyon would glint like the emperor’s horde. Though, as it is during the start of the day, the lesser dragons haven’t awakened yet, and the cavern was nigh on empty. When the sun sets the sky ablaze, the flitters will awake, and the canyon will be blinding once more with the happy chattering of lesser who have naught to do but fly free, protected from the war, their scales shined to luster unimaginable.
I looked to my own, the scales of a warrior. Chipped in my few struggles, I can still count the battles I have killed in, and the number I have killed, though that number is soon to be forgotten. Over my left wing, one got through and buried an axe in the hardest shell he could. In trying to dislodge it, I reached behind and crushed him. After the battle, a lesser removed the thing. Many other smaller injuries dot my body, each with their own hurt. It’s part of being a war dragon; one wouldn’t understand…
The only noise she made was her tail sliding on the ground, which I must admit I hadn’t heard till she was abruptly at my right. I turned and stared into the eyes of the most beautiful dragonelle I have ever seen, to this day. Her bright, deep reds of her back mixing fluidly with the soft yellow of her underside, her wings well-oiled and slim against her side. She looked at me, confused at my expression.
“You have that look you get when you are thinking too deeply for your own good. Might’s well tell me.”
Too blunt for her own good, I guess. “The North men haven’t been doing anything,” I told her, “though I’ve flown over and saw them run to cover a disc of some sort. I’ve asked for more scouts to observe, maybe a lesser or two, but nobody will respond. Still all jealous of my title. I should just fly down to the canyon. I could fly down into that canyon now and send a hundred lesser north and nobody would know until they were gone.” I stamped my feet in frustration.
“Now I know you wouldn’t, and you do, also,” she sighed and stalked out of the cave, towards the canyon, now glinting once or twice with the early rising lesser. Her wings unfolded, each longer than she long, the veins showing against the early sun as they stretched the cramps of rest away. She craned her neck towards the sun, armored ridges over her neck fanning out to catch the warmth. The muscles rippled under her skin as her hearts beat faster to prepare for the ascent. She crouched low, priming the leap off the hard granite landing with anticipation of a flight in a cloudless morning. As if responding to a call far off, she leapt high in the air, her wings dragging behind her. The wings then snapped up and then down in a powerful stroke, sending her further towards the heavens.
I watched her fly off to the canyon, scales shimmering on the edges of a frame shadowed by the sun. A glorious day indeed.