Hi! Welcome back! Sorry for the long wait. As you know if you have read my disclaimers on the previous chapters, this chapter was meant to be different. If you're curious, read on!

Also, shoutout to ! Thank you for your support.

Here's chapter 3!

POV: Darkstalker

The smoke was thick in the air. Too thick. The NightWings wouldn't survive another week with this poor quality of oxygen.

I turn my gaze to the ocean, overlooking its beauties and only focusing on what lies beyond my line of sight.

A home with good air, fresh food, abundant supplies for shelters. Every NightWing is suffering from a cause they are responsible for.

Every dragon from every other tribe is at fault for our suffering. They will not share their territory with us.

I look down at my claws, shaky with fear for the future of the NightWing tribe, supposedly the most powerful clan in Pyrrhia.

I have power, the most power any dragon has ever had. I should use it against all of Pyrrhia. It's only revenge. And if the other dragons would have seen our misery and actually cared for us, I wouldn't be plotting their demise.

But where to start? It must be a punishment that lasts years, decades, even centuries. But even I, Darkstalker, would never live that long to continue Pyrrhia's punishment.

It'll require some thinking. But I know that in the long term, it'll all be worth it to see the other tribes suffer just as we have for decades.

I trek back to my cave beneath the steaming rocks. Scrolls and lanterns with only as much of a padding mat as I could scavenge are my only possessions.

Among my scrolls is one that I must never lose. That if the volcano gave way and all was sunken in its perilous lava, I must risk my life for it.

And that is my talisman, with all my special spells and curses written out on it. When I was younger, I transferred my powers to it, entrusting the scroll with all of my animus magic. It has proved to be useful.

That is the very thing I will use against Pyrrhia.

I spend the next few days pondering a punishment that would live on, even without my existence.

I try to ignore the hacking and gasping of NightWings outside of my caves, but it only makes me angrier and more motivated to continue this project.

After a week, I learn that almost a third of the NightWing population has been killed due to the smoke and heat. And I still have yet to come up with something.

Finally caving from the burden of my frustrations, I pack a satchel with a few fresh mangos stolen from the Rainforest Kingdom, a feather pen and bottle of ink, a blank scroll, and of course my talisman.

Perhaps exploring Pyrrhia from an aerial view will spark some kind of idea in my mind.

I realize how out of breath I am myself as I take flight into the smoky night. The ocean is rough and unsettled below me, just like my tribe.

Water sprays my underbelly as I continue to dip lower from exhaustion.

Not wanting to use my magic to cure my tiredness, I fight through the aching muscles and shortness of breath, only looking ahead.

It's multiple days before I finally see a slab of land in the foggy distance. When I land, I can immediately tell it's the Mud Kingdom. The wet swamps and humid smells annoy me, but I focus on what I came here for.

The surroundings are very different from what I'm used to at home.

I see big open areas, unused, and lots of free space.

As I tour the other kingdoms, I realize they all have something in common. Large areas of untouched space.

Perhaps that could mean something.

My last kingdom is the Kingdom of Sand. I enjoy the coolness of the desert at night, yet there's still some heat to feed off from.

I settle in a dune and flesh out a plan. The ultimate punishment hanging in my mind is death upon all dragons. But then there would be no population and the punishment would only last a matter of minutes. That seemed to be too horrible a punishment.

But yet I still feel like death must be a part of it, since NightWings are dying back home. I scratch the word "death" with my feather and ink on the blank scroll as a reminder that I must include that.

Then an image of two dragons fighting each other pops into my head. Maybe in an arena?

I write down "arena" and "fight."

But then, where would the arena be? I suddenly perk up. All of the empty, unused space in Pyrrhia, of course.

But then question after question blocks my path to victory. How will the arenas be built? I'll command healthy NightWings of course. Or perhaps dragons of other tribes. But no, they're all part of the punishment.

How will I choose the dragons to fight? I'll handpick the worst ones first, and we'll go from there, I guess. Wait, that doesn't work once I'm dead–who will pick them? And the punishment isn't just on a few guilty dragons–it's on the entire population. Maybe I'll write every dragon's name on pieces of scroll, and the dragons who will fight will be picked at random. That way, even when I die, that roll can be passed onto literally anyone else.

My talon tires as I frantically scribble down notes, not wanting to miss any details. And the questions keep on coming.

Should I make sure that the slips of scroll with the names never perish? So that perhaps no one ever has to rewrite the names? No, that doesn't make sense since new dragons are born every day and dragons die everyday. Everyone's a part of the punishment. But what if the person writing all of the names decides to exclude a particular dragon? I'll just enchant the bowl with the names to always make sure that the dragon with that duty is loyal to the punishment.

And a part of the punishment will be to always use the same choosing bowl. But how will one bowl fit every single dragon's name? I'll divide the names by gender, so there are two bowls, and I'll enchant both of them.

But still, there are at least a billion of each gender. All the slips will never fit into the bowls. Perhaps it shouldn't be all dragons. But then which dragons would it be? Maybe just the adults, just the dragons ten and above. But it seems crueler to make dragons nine and below the candidates. Yes, that seems like the better option.

Wait, but newborns aren't able to fight. Perhaps not the little ones. So what should the age range be? Three years old is when you start to develop sense and fighting skills. And age nine is the last year of being considered a dragonet. Dragons aged three to nine makes perfect sense. That way, an interesting fight will still go on, and it'll also make the parents cry. That narrows the population for this punishment down.

Just when I thought I had fleshed out my plan, I realized I was missing a lot of details.

Will only one fight go on? Will it be one male and one female chosen only? That seems like too short of a fight and too little of a punishment. Perhaps we should choose more. But how many? Maybe a few from each tribe.

We could have a total of seven fights if we choose two from each tribe. Maybe one male and one female. So should each tribe have their own two bowls–one for male and one for female? Yes, I think so, and I'll just enchant them all with a loyalty code.

And how will they be chosen? Will someone just secretly pick two names, one from each bowl, and announce them the next day or something? No, because maybe the dragon picking will switch names out to their satisfaction. It should be public. Each tribe should have their own "choosing ceremony" on a specific day of the year with everyone from that tribe present. No, perhaps not. That could get complicated.

Maybe on one specific day of the year, every dragon will attend the ceremony in one place where one dragon picks all of the dragonets who are fighting where everyone can see. That makes sense.

That means fourteen dragonets will be chosen. Should I make them go two at a time in the arena? That seems about right. Wait, but how will I choose who goes in against who? Another choosing ceremony seems a bit excessive.

Perhaps it will be more entertaining if they all go in at once and fight whoever they want. That's not a bad idea. One shall come out victorious, and whoever that is, they shall be granted an abundant supply of food and a nice home.

It seemed only fair to give the champion a reward.

Should the dragonets have supplies like food and water and weapons to help them win? Yes, they should, or else they'd die quickly. The supplies would be around a landmark in the middle of the arena, perhaps known as the cornucopia. The dragonets would fight for the supplies in the first active event known as the bloodbath.

Whatever they get, they can keep for the duration of the fight. Dragons from outside should also be allowed to send in supplies to whichever dragons they favor.

This plan is going along way better than expected. But I still need titles for certain things.

Calling the fighters just dragonets could mean any dragonet. It has to be specific to the fighters. Perhaps they should be known as "tributes" because that's basically what they are. And the public ceremony shall be known as the "reaping" for we are reaping children to partake in this event. And the punishment seems more like a game.

This one stumped me a bit. What is a name that everyone could remember? They would remember that I was the one that created it, that I am responsible.

And just like that, I feel a light bulb go off in my head. The Shadow Games.

It's just the perfect title for a punishment. I know that to make the games a reality, I must write all of the details down onto my talisman, not missing one word, or else this could all backfire.

But I'd rather do it back home, surrounded by the shadow of the NightWings. I realize that I am including NightWings in this punishment, but it's only fair, for they are also a part of Pyrrhia's population.

I roll up the scroll and tuck it into my satchel, making sure it's safe.

I spread my big black wings, taking care to make sure no one is watching, and push off of the ground, flapping majestically into the moonlit night.

Home is at least a three day flight away, so I'll have to find hidden shelter along the way.

The first night is peaceful. The second, rough and windy. And the third, abnormally cold. At daybreak on the fourth day, I see my smoky homeland, all of its flaws almost beautiful to me.

I land smoothly on the stone, avoiding stray lava streams as I waddle back to my cave, ready to rest.

As soon as I see the coziness of my cave, I can't resist but close my eyes, throwing my satchel to the ground, unaware that the scroll is lying open on the floor.

I'm awoken by the sound of footsteps exiting my cave. Who was in my cave? It's too early to figure anything out, so I'm about to close my eyes again when I notice that my notes scroll is lying on the floor, open.

The dragon who just intruded my cave must have read it. I have a silent panic attack, knowing that those who know about the punishment before it happens will try and imprison me at the best, kill me at worst. But they can't kill me. I am Darkstalker, the most powerful dragon in Pyrrhia. How would they kill me?

I think positively, trying to silence the panicked voice inside of me.

The day goes normally, so I think nothing of the incident that morning.

That night, however, I have unsettling dreams and barely get a wink of sleep. But after having a particularly bad one, I jolt awake, sitting up in the process. It takes me a moment to register that I don't have dreams. I have visions.

I envisioned a swarm of dragons, a powerful animus among them, locking me somewhere that even I couldn't get out of.

And I knew this was going to be a reality. I decide to leave my cave forever in a desperate attempt to escape what has already been written.

I keep my satchel packed for the most part, except I take out my talisman and place it under my wing, hidden from view, in case I am caught, because in that instance, the talisman is the only thing that will fulfill what I have written out. It is the only thing that can make the Shadow Games a reality.

I walk down the short tunnel and out of my cave. As I turn the bend, my stomach turns, and I am in for the worst.

Three hefty NightWings along with one scrawny little dragonet stand in my path, the dragonet hiding behind the other three and shaking with fear. And that's when I know that this little dragonet is the snitch, the one that read my plan.

I manage an evil grimace at the dragonet, who cowers even more, before reluctantly allowing the other three to grab me by the arms. I'm lucky they don't grab my wings, fearing that my talisman will slip from my grasp.

The three dragons pull me all the way to the ocean, where I look down at the crashing waves and seafoam floating everywhere.

We fly over the ocean, leaving the little one behind. I just made this trip literally two days ago, so my wings feel like paper as they cut through the wind.

I'm still clueless about where we are going, but according to my vision, it's somewhere where I'll be trapped for a long, long time, perhaps forever if I'm extremely unfortunate.

Right before we took off, I was able to sneak my talisman into my satchel, which I'm surprised they haven't taken away.

The rain that begins to fall stings my aching wings and scales, but I ignore it and grit my teeth, struggling to show no signs of pain.

We land two days later on the same portion of land I had on my previous trip, except it took a day less time because of the pace we were going at.

I recognize the swamps, looking muddier than ever, as we weave our way through the tall grass protruding from the dirt.

We take off once again. I find it very difficult to fly with three dragons clutching my arms and tail, but I live with it.

We make it hours later to a destination I don't recognize. I can't even sort it into a kingdom. It's just a big old mountain in the middle of Pyrrhia.

A fresh vision appears in my mind, and that's when I realize that they're planning on trapping me in this mountain.

I almost laugh out loud, also realizing that none of these dragons are animuses, so there's practically no way to do such a thing.

We land at the foot of the mountain, but the three NightWings still have a firm grasp on me, much to my annoyance.

From behind a tree, another NightWing appears, this time a skinny female. Clearsight. She must be against my plan as well.

She approaches me cautiously, like I'm some wild dog, and exchanges a few mumbly words with me.

Then she takes my wrist, and I don't notice that she's placed some sort of bracelet on it until it's locked on and unable to be taken off.

I lock eyes with my love once more before feeling something new, like there's no emotion in me.

I'm led to the entrance of the mountain and down a hundred tunnels before finally being settled in a random cave somewhere in the mountain.

I quickly take my talisman out, still having a desire to make the Shadow Games a reality.

They snatch my satchel from me and exit the cave, blocking it with boulders so it's inescapable.

I stare at the cave's blocked entrance, not feeling any need to escape. I realize how sleepy I'm becoming, and knowing Clearsight, she enchanted that bracelet so I would fall into a deep sleep I could never get out of.

But somehow, I still felt the need for revenge on all of Pyrrhia. Just before the feeling of sleep was too strong to manage, I grab my talisman and scratch in with my claw all of the details I had come up with for the Shadow Games.

It's messy writing and I can barely read it, but I know the talisman will know what I mean. I recite a few words in a sing-song voice. It's a spell I learned as a young animus, the way to make things come true when written on talismans.

I finish within a matter of minutes, feeling satisfied and very, very evil. I can't see it or hear it or feel it, but I know a spell has been cast on Pyrrhia, a spell they can't break. A spell that will make the Shadow Games come true.

Oh, how I wish I could see how it all turns out. But I can't, because I'm trapped here. But somehow, knowing that it worked is enough.

I sigh, letting sleep take over. My eyelids feel like boulders themselves. I close them, drifting away into a dreamless sleep with one thought glued to my mind.

Revenge is mine. Let the Shadow Games begin.

That was chapter 3. I really hope you enjoyed it. I'm so very sorry for the long wait, but I'm pretty busy with school starting back up and all of my other stories, so this one may only be updated once or twice a month. Anyways, thanks for tuning in and have a nice day!

See ya in the next one.

Ducky :)