After Dagon's wounds had been healed, Sephtis lay by his rider's side, waiting patiently for him to wake up. Roughly two hours had passed by, and Dagon was still unconscious.
"When will he wake up?" Sephtis asked. "There is a war waiting for our return. We can't be here for much longer.."
"I am afraid…" Liorria spoke, her tail slowly waving back and forth behind her as she was perched upon her tower. "That you will not be able to return in due time."
"What are you saying?!" Sephtis asked, worried.
"Dagon will not wake for two to three days. Do not forget, he almost died. The healing process is more than just the physical wounds, little Sephtis."
"What.. but.. the war.."
"I am sorry. But you cannot yet return."
Sephtis dug his talons into the dirt below him, baring his fangs. 'Damnit!' He cursed, 'how did this happen..? How could it..'
"Then what do you suppose I do?" Sephtis asked.
"Wait. Upon your rider's return, everything will be set forth before you." Liorria spoke.
"I'm tired of you speaking in cryptic riddles.. but I guess I don't have a choice but to stay here.."
"Do not forget, Sephtis. Trust your rider."
— — —
Within the depths of his own mind, Dagon wondered through a seemingly endless valley of lush, green grass and life, the Spring breeze rustling his hair and tugging at his clothes. He stared up at the clear blue sky in awe at the beauty and peace of it all, his emerald eyes refracting the sun in brilliant shimmers of dancing light.
The grass seemed to dance, rustling in waves with the wind, as the sound of singing crickets played the orchestra of the world. Butterflies danced across the air, gliding from one brilliantly colored flower to the next, collecting pollen with their long tongues before moving on to the next, their beautiful wings fluttering as they drifted lazily and elegantly.
The valley was immense and seemed to go on forever, enormous hills rising up on either side of the valley forming a sort of bowl. Tall, sturdy trees of birch wood and oak wood dotted the landscape, all of them being evenly spaced out so the valley still held its enormous feeling of endlessness.
The sound of what Dagon assumed to be a bird of some kind came from above him. He turned skyward, looking up to see a gold-feathered falcon, embers burning at the edges of its feathers as though it were in fire, but it didn't seem scared nor was it in pain. Dagon felt a strange familiarity with the bird as he watched it soar over his head, the sunlight gleaming through it's golden wings in a brilliant shine as the bird's golden eyes interlocked with Dagon's. Dagon raised his hand towards the bird, as if to reach for it, but of course, he could not.
And then, suddenly, the sky became dark as black clouds formed, blotting out the beautiful blue sky and the light of the sun. A huge raven double the size of the falcon flew down from the clouds, it's cold red eyes locked in the bird as it slammed into the falcon.
"No!" Dagon tried to scream, but nothing came out. He watched in horror, unable to move or speak, as the falcon crashed to the ground, the raven landing atop it, it's beak stabbing into the falcon's neck, breaking it. Then the raven turned to Dagon with cold eyes, blood coating it's beak as it let out a hollow "caw".
And then Dagon dropped to his knees as the once beautiful and glorious valley turned into a desolate battlefield of death and rot, filled with the corpses of man, dragon, and kin.
The Valley of Scales.
The raven lifted its wings, spreading them wide, and then the black clouds seemed to seep down out of the sky, plunging to the earth before rolling forward like a tidal wave of darkness that soon swallowed Dagon completely.
— — —
Myru sat atop Abyss and stared down at the kingdom before her, at the little tiny insects that dared to rise up and resist against her. She grinned sinisterly, a maddened look if insanity plastered across her expression.
"Gänhir!" She yelled out, "I always had my suspicions about you, but I never expected this!"
"What, the ever-so-calculating witch couldn't see an uprising on the horizon?" Gänhir roared back as he and Shiratt rose into the sky until they were level with their enemy.
Myru sneered. "Watch it."
"Maybe you should pay more attention." Shiratt growled, and just as he said that, the clouds above burst open as three dragons were diving out of the sky straight towards Abyss and Myru.
Myru sneered, and Abyss's patterns began to glow as waves of dark water began to shift about before rising into the air, but they suddenly turned to ice and were dashed away, shattering into tiny particles of mist. Myru glared at Gänhir, irritated as he was the one canceling out her magic.
Shiratt rushed at Abyss as the other three dragons dropped from the sky, barreling towards Myru and Abyss. Abyss curled his body in the air, his wings wrapping over his body as, in his talons, a ball of water formed before shooting in a spray of water that crashed across the ground, leaving cracks in it from the force of it, before shifting towards Shiratt. Gänhir attempted to change the water to ice so he could shatter it, but all the occurred in result was a massive explosion of steam, clouding his and the other dragons' vision.
'What?!' Gänhir though as Shiratt stopped his charge, Abyss now being gone from where he was before. 'Hot water!? Damnit!'
"Shiratt! Get out of the steam cloud!" Gänhir roared. Shiratt shot upwards, flying through the mist before shooting out of it, rising high into the air. Gänhir looked about before his eyes locked on Abyss and Myru. Abyss held two dragons, each by the throat, her talons digging into their flesh.
Gänhir's eyes widened and his heart stopped as Abyss's talons sank into the dragons and tore out their throats, blood spraying through the air before their bodies fell dead, plummeting to the earth.
'Damnit!' Gänhir cursed, his eyes narrowing as swear beaded on his brow. 'We have to kill her now, before the rest of the forces arrive!'
'Easier said than done.' Shiratt growled.
'I know..' Gänhir answered as he glared down at Myru, her expression contorted into a mad grin.