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First Peak, Dragon Summit
As the nine dragon lords continued with their tribe's agendas, they eventually excused the Witch Mother from their meeting.
"I apologize for asking you to return so we can continue our tribe's meeting privately, Lady Ophelia. I will invite you to my peak and act as a proper host at a more opportune time," Astarot promised.
"It's fine, Lord Astarot." Ophelia curtsied in her black dress with a slight smile and said, "I still have other matters to take care of, so this works fine for me."
"Thank you for your understanding, Lady Ophelia." Astarot nodded with acknowledgment before turning to the ninth dragon lord. "Send her back to her place, Lord Narvim. And be quick. We aren't done here."
"Alright," Lord Narvim replied before he stood up from his dragon throne, made his way over to Ophelia, and ripped open a tear in space. Then he gestured, "After you, Lady Ophelia."
