Gena growled, lowering her head. Dagon knew his words had struck her hard, and he felt bad, but he had to say it. He didn't like the idea of being locked away for all his life, especially not in such a dreary cavern, to forever covet the world outside.
He'd much rather be out in the sprawling world, fighting to make it better and bring about peace and prosperity. He'd rather do something than nothing.
Now that he thought of it… why did his father keep him during the war? Why not just send Dagon away with Gänhir, to where he'd be safe, where he'd be raised by his own kind? He wanted to ask Gänhir why, but he figured it was not the time. He'd have to ask later, but the thought still hung heavy in his mind.
"There are so many.." Bella spoke in awe as she stared back at the bustling city streets.
"Yes, and some humans decided to stay. Turned out, a large majority of the human citizens believe what happened to the dragonic races is actually wrong." Gänhir spoke. "Follow me, Dagon, we will be getting you properly outfitted."
"Properly outfitted?" Dagon asked.
"Yes, proper attire for a king, armor, weapon of your choice, list can go on."
"I don't need armor, actually." Dagon said.
"What? Of course you do, unless you wanna die."
"I am able to create my own armor, same for Sephtis. I can manipulate Mercury and create armor from it, and the toxic chemical does not affect me or him."
"Oh… I see.. and when you fight others, if they touch you, they will just keep over and die." Gänhir said, stroking his beard. "That is actually quite powerful. Either way, you are in need of a weapon, yes?"
"No, I can-"
"Dagon." Sephtis growled, "what if you run out of magical energy? Will you be left completely defenseless?"
"Well.." Dagon sighed, "you have a point. Fine, I'll take a weapon."
"And some real clothes." Gänhir said. "We can get you other useful things as well. Including a replacement for that missing arm of yours."
"What?" Dagon said with surprise. "You can do that?"
"I can, it's pretty simple, really. I mean," he bent down and lifted his pant leg, pulling it up to reveal a metal leg with Drakeagen stones embedded in certain parts of it. "I have a replacement leg."
"How on earth did that happen?" Bella asked.
Gänhir looked over at Shiratt, who looked away. "Ah, let's just say someone was stubborn."
Sephtis chuckled.
"How'd that leg taste, then?" Ellira joked.
"Silence." Shiratt growled.
"That's enough, come along. The dragons will have to stay in the main entrance, the castle halls are not large enough for them." Gänhir spoke. "Although, it is actually not normal nor custom to have your dragon accompany you where ever you go, at least in the old kingdom it wasn't."
"Why?" Dagon asked.
"Because, it would upset the humans and make them uncomfortable. They are naturally scared of dragons, which is understandable seeing the history between man and dragon. Once upon a time, on continents without Dragon Kin, dragons would often raid human encampments and feed on them and their livestock. After years of this, humans came to instinctually dislike and fear dragons."
"That explains a lot." Bella grumbled as she flicked her hair and began up the stairs after Gänhir.
"Yes, it does."
Dagon turned to Sephtis. "I'll be back in a bit, see you then."
Sephtis grumbled something and waved Dagon off. As he began his way up the steps towards the castle, Gena blocked his path.
"What's up?" He asked.
"Do you harbor any hatred for me..?" Gena growled.
"What? No? Why would I?" Dagon asked, confused, although he already knew what this was about.
"I've not been much of a teacher. I haven't raised you as I should have.. your father would ridicule me." Gena said lowly.
"Gena. I already told you, I forgive you. And no, you are right, you didn't raise me as a teacher should."
Gena flinched.
"You raised me as a mother would."
Gena looked over at Dagon for a moment. Her scales shifted momentarily, and then she moved aside. "Be careful." She said quietly.
"Don't worry about me," Dagon said, "I'm not a little kid anymore."
— — —
Mourtas sat upon Zickarys's back. His dragon was adorned in thick, spiked black armor and was perched atop one of the many stone spires of the castle. Below, they stared down in approval at their army of enslaved dragons and drakes. Thousands upon thousands of them stretched on and on, sixteen-hundred strong, not counting the three thousand soldiers, all covered in head to toe with black armor and weapons.
The sky was covered in black, dreary clouds like pillars of smoke. The desert seemed red as it rolled on and on, and a cold wind tore through the land, sending dust and sand flying through the air.
*My army is ready. And now, all that is left to do, is to await the signal from the other kingdoms.* Mourtas said with a grin across his lips beneath his mask.
*And then we begin our march.* Zickarys hummed. *We will decimate everything, and then Laisia will belong to us, and, naturally, the other kingdoms will follow.*
Zickarys reared back his head and let open his jaws, an ear-splitting roar that shook the entire castle tearing through the air.
"Now begins the end."