Dagon could feel his own mind drifting for what seemed like an eternity. He could, feel, nor hear nothing, and yet, he was consciously drifting. He knew he was asleep, that he was within a void of his own mind. But even so, he had no ability nor will to wake up.
And then, within the void, a faint light began to come to life off in the distance. It was fuzzy and hard to make out what it was distinctly, but Dagon could just barely see what appeared to be.. stars. At first, he couldn't tell what the stars meant or even if they formed any sort of constellation, and then they changed colors.
One set of stars came to the shape of a flaming bird, each star shining a brilliant scarlet. Another changed blue, forming a large, coiled serpent that Dagon recognized with a shiver; a leviathan.
There were two other sets of stars, one of them turning a shimmering gold and taking the shape of a proud, powerful dragon, whilst the others turned green and took the shape of an animal Dagon did not recognize. It seemed to have a similar body structure to a dragon, yet it had feathered wings, fur, and the head of a bird.
A moment later, the stars began to churn and shift, the colors dimming and changing to a red-violet shade. As time passed, the constellations lost their shape and the stars began to dim out after their color changed, until there were none left.
And then.. there was only darkness.
— — —
Mourtas and Zickarys had landed atop a cliff overlooking his marching army. From his view, the countless soldiers looked like little insects crawling in swarms across the snow, brimming with silver metal. And above in the sky were hundreds upon hundreds of drakes, not to mention the dozens of dragons within their ranks.
'They stand no chance against this kind of force.' Zickarys hissed.
It had become the afternoon now, and even with the clear sky and the sun beating down on them and reflecting off the snow, brutally bitter winds still tore across the tundra. Many of the soldiers had frost bite on at least one part of their body, but any who fell behind were simply as good as dead to Mourtas. And thus, they'd be Drake food. This fear drove the soldiers to press on, despite their pain.
Fear is one of the strongest rulers out of all the great kings. If your soldiers feared you, they would never risk betraying you, and they would rather die fighting for you that to die by the horrid death you would give unto them.
'No. Do not underestimate our foes. They are stronger than one may think.. but.. it won't be an issue.' Mourtas responded to Zickarys. 'When push comes to shove, we always have a card to play.'
'Of course.' Zickarys spoke, 'You are truly the most calculating and feared ruler across the lands.'
Mourtas grinned. 'It is truly too bad Nargash and Myru do not realize what the real point of any of this is. Their poor kings, sitting all alone and unguarded upon their thrones of gold.'
— — —
*In the Kingdom of Meagaus*
King Elmond sat upon a throne of silver, his head resting upon his fist. The throne room was a large, expansive room of a circular shape, glass windows letting the light of the sky above shine down on the marble floor.
Elmond wore a set of silver heavy armor, blue markings and patterns etched into it, while blue fabric hung down from his back and over his shoulders. A large sword leaned up against the throne as he stared blankly into the distance.
Elmond was possibly the strongest human in all of Seryad, during the previous war, he had single handedly killed dragons and Kin without the use of any magic or Drakeagen. But, he was not a personal supporter of the war. The only reason he gave his forces to Mourtas was due to the threat the black dragon posed.. he already knew King Alexsys was dead and Mourtas had taken the throne. If Elmond tried to stand up against the black throne of Annagon, he knew his entire kingdom would crumble.
Elmond closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. 'I am sorry..' he thought, imagining the pain and suffering that had been brought upon the dragons. He once upon a time had good relations with the dragonic races… and his wife. But now, she was corrupted.
Myru, the queen of Meagaus, once was a divine, kind woman. But when that accursed man, Mourtas, and that group came into the picture and handed over Abyss… everything began to go downhill.
Elmond wished he had the power to bring down the black throne. He wished he had the power to save the dragonic races and repair the world. He wished, so desperately, he could get the love of his life back. But he could not. And he knew that.
Then he heard something clacking above him. At first, he simply assumed it was birds and continued to space out, lost in his own mind and grief. And then the clacking continued and memories flooded his mind, memories of war, memories of dragons walking towards him across desolate land. His eyes snapped upwards, just as the glass windows shattered from above.
In a dazzling, shimmering rain of glass shards, a dragon descended into the throne room, crashing to the marble floor. The dragon had light gray scales like stone and iridescent stone markings covered it's body. It had two long, coiled horns like a ram and had a long elegant snout. Blue, distant eyes stared blankly at Elmond as the dragon hissed.
Elmond's eyes narrowed, seeing the black armor chained to the dragon's body. He had a feeling this would happen, it was only a matter of time. When Mourtas had killed Alexsys, he knew he'd make an attempt for the other kings' lives.
Elmond stood from his throne, clasping the handle of his sword, the bluish Drakeagen within it shimmering as he raised it in both hands before him.
The dragon gave a hiss, then began to move towards Elmond, teeth bared as it's head shook with the vibrations of it's growls.
"Come, dragon. Witness the strength of a real king."