Rykirus sank his teeth in to the deer he just killed, ripping out chunks of flesh and swallowing them. He thought back to what Vyrix told him, "Find other races, huh," he murmured thoughtfully. Something caught his ear and he cocked his head before following the sound of talking. He stalked toward the voices and peered at them through the vegetation. It was a human and four dwarves, the human was waving a sword carelessly and sneering down at the others.
But what made Rykirus bristle was what he was wearing, orange-red scales (His mother's if you forgot) that gleamed in the sun was molded into armor and around his neck was a chain of teeth, dragon teeth, his MOTHER's teeth. A barely perceptible growl rumbled in his throat and a closer dwarf whirled around, "What was that?" he asked fearfully.
The scale armored individual laughed derisively, "Oh calm down scaredy cat," he jeered, "I, the great Zyco, will protect your pathetic hide," he laughed and walked towards Rykirus. Rykirus drew upon the fire inside of him and waited. When Zyco swept the bushes hiding the drake away, Rykirus prepared to release his flame- "Huh, there's nothing there," Rykirus froze, flame flickering out in his gut. Zyco turned and laughed at the four dwarves watching the area in terror, "Ha, you old fools jump at the slightest breeze! Not to worry though, I was the one who struck a lethal blow on the dragon king," he said, puffing his chest out in pride, "They gave me the scales of the beast's mate because the coward hid himself away when he saw my intimidating figure," he bellowed, roaring in laughter.
Rykirus stiffened as he gazed at the human, the human that killed his father and desecrated his mother's corpse. White-hot fury welled up inside him and his muscles tensed as he prepared to leap out and skewer the human before him like he did with the other fools. Something made him stop though, a memory of his visions, "Rykirus," his father breathed, curled around his egg the night before the attack, "Remember, it is not always strength, numbers, and power that win a battle, there is also wisdom, courage, and the morale of your soldiers. Fighting and winning is important, but you must know when to fight and when to retreat, because the lives of your comrades, your friends, are not worth your pride. Know when to fight and when to back off, because that's what makes a good leader."
Rykirus let out a hiss of anger and frustration before relaxing his muscles and waiting, watching. "Hey Zyco!" one of them called, "Don't you have something to protect? Back at the capital."
"Hm? Oh, you're very well informed for a peasant," Zyco said, examining his sword disinterestedly. The one who spoke growled lowly under his breath, much like the black spot hiding in the bushes wanted to do, but otherwise didn't do or say anything. "Anyway, you're right, the sword of Alcatraz, the demon king, entrusted to the great me for protection. Don't worry, I have my best soldiers guarding it," he said, spreading his arms out dramatically.
One of them grunted, "I think you should guard it more carefully, it's the only thing stopping the demon race from attacking us. Don't know why they care so much for a friggin' sword, but it helps us so I won't ask. You know, if it gets stolen and returned to the demon king or the demon race somehow gets it back, we will get attacked."
Zyco sneered at him, "Well, luckily for you, I don't care what you have to think, in fact, maybe you should check in with a doctor, poor you might've busted a brain vessel," he teased, lips pulling into a cruel smirk, "Besides, even if the demon race attacks us, we're much stronger than them, we'll eradicate them."
Another shook his head, "We're not stronger than them, we just have more numbers, if the demon race attacks, millions of humans will die, and besides, if someone retrieves the sword, they'd have to be strong, giving the demon race an advantage-"
The rest Rykirus didn't hear. 'Bingo' he thought, 'Take the sword, give it back to Alcatraz, gain their allegiance, unite the demons with NightBlade, and annihilate the human race.' With those thoughts, Rykirus crept out from behind the bushes and snuck away, a cunning smirk set on his face.