Spectro stared out the window, contemplating. The medics were shocked how right he was about his wings. They never fixed themselves, and he was landlocked. Spectro beat them uselessly, but the torn membranes and crushed bone would not support flight. He was trapped on the ground. Spectro did not mind too much; he could live like this. But until Flash came back, he had to stay in the palace of a million colors. He wandered the halls. The new queen, the last heir of the throne was the egg he had spared. She was named Dazzling, to Spectro's disgust. But it was a tradition, and the egg was to be the fourth Dazzling. He heard that in just a few days it would hatch, but by then he hoped to be gone.
He wandered, his claws clicking quietly on the smooth marble.
The singes and ashes of burnt furniture, tapestries, and dragons scattered the floor. The maids were quickly sweeping them away with long peacock feathers, scattering them outside. He turned, and walked down a thinner hall. It lead outside. He opened the door, and felt the fresh air tingle his scales. Spectro walked across the earth, seeing small flowers unfolding and birds chattering in the trees. He reached a wall. The Dazzling memorial. It was made of stained glass and had many mounds around it. The casualties. The glass showed Dazzling, crouching over hundreds of dragons and hissing. It was very melodramatic, but fit. He walked some more, and saw windows with more pictures. Three armies, clawing at each other. Queen Flash fighting Adamant, the Mudwing king. Dazzling executed. Spectro falling from the tower, his wings crumbled. Spectro admired how accurate they made the pictures. He continued walking. Night was coming soon, so he would have to go to bed. He looked out at the horizon, spotting the mountains and sands of the Sandwing and Skywing kingdom. He headed back in.
The next morning he wasn't surprised when a young Rainwing came to tell him that Flash is late because of injuries. She would come in a month.
He did not care.
He could wait the month.