The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the violet-glowing sconces embedded in the obsidian walls. Daena sat at the head of the long table, her leathery wings draped behind her chair like a cloak. To her right, Queen Verida leaned back, her golden eyes sharp and scrutinizing. On her left, Queen Nyssara sipped delicately from a crystalline goblet filled with an inky black liquid, her expression contemplative. Neither of them looked particularly pleased.
"So," Verida began, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "The scales."
Daena sighed, massaging her temples. "Yes, the scales. They appeared briefly during the fight with the Hellbeast. Black as night, cold to the touch, and radiating an energy I'd rather not think about."
Nyssara's silvery brows arched. "Cold, you say? That's not typical for our kind. Darkfire burns hot, not cold."
