Everything was blank. Blackness was his only vision at the moment, but he could swear he heard something. A chant. Hundreds of voices shouting at once, demanding blood, wanting to witness death and violence. It grew louder every second, every stomp, every shout. It became so loud, almost unbearable, and he forced himself to move.
Six-Claws sat up and gasped, taking deep breaths, hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating to the point of bursting. He calmed himself after a few seconds, then stood up, and examined his surroundings. It looked as if he were in a dome, or a tent, considering that there was a gigantic red covering over him. He looked to his left and right, and saw oval shaped entrances, blocked by metal bars - an arena. Once he came to that conclusion, Six-Claws dreaded where he exactly was, but did not want to believe it either way.
"Feel at home yet, Desolate?" Said a voice. Six-Claws turned around . . . and there stood his adversary. "This is where it all started, remember? When we were real dragons . . . when the world was soft . . . when the violence began."
" . . . This is all your fault," Six-Claws growled back, stomping towards him.
"She had it coming."
The two dragons stood face to face.
"She did not deserve to be killed."
"You do not know the half of it, Desolate. I thought the same thing you do now. Oasis was a great queen. None could ever rival her, none could ever challenge her - who could? The day I accepted her as some . . . protector . . . that was when I learned the truth."
"What truth is there to spoil, other than the fact that you killed her?"
"The one you never wanted to believe - I didn't either until that night. . . . It was after we were announced to be the greatest fighters in the kingdom. I was going to thank the queen for her . . . gratitude, towards us. I peeked into that room . . . and I saw that everything she stood for was a lie. Her daughters, three sisters, three queens who Blister, Blaze . . . and Burn. Ever wonder why they are so cruel? . . . It is because of their mother. I watched her try to kill all three of them that night; shedded blood, left scars - I saw it all happen. I never had a real mother. In some way . . . heh . . . Oasis took that place. I was too ignorant to realize, just how idiotic I was acting. You think you had a rough life? Mine was very different from yours, Desolate. That trauma never left me. For the first time in my life I felt hope when you were my 'friend.' Things change though . . . and it all did that night.
"Why do you think Burn has all those scars? From the battles? That's half of it. The rest is from the violence she went through along with her siblings. Blaze lusts for jewelry to get her mind off what happened to her as a dragonet; Blister knows what drives a dragon's fear, and she uses it to help herself forget about her fear of the past, but still hides away from her troubles; and Burn . . . she grew stronger, more violent because of what happened. The past lays heavy on her still, which is why she is cruel. It lays heavy on me as well. Oasis was exactly like my mother . . . so I . . . did what had to be done."
Six-Claws stared at him, trying to contemplate all of this. " . . . So that's it, huh? You killed Oasis to erase what happened to you in the past?"
"Do not tolerate trauma, Desolate. You and I both know very well, the past was cruel to you as well."
"That's why I became your friend, Three-Eyes. You were different, and so was I."
"Yet the world does not accept dragons like us . . . which is why I am cruel . . . because I am more of a dragon than anyone else on this continent. They are all weak, and so are you, and you always have been."
"I know my life was filled with abuse from my parents and siblings because of what I am," Six-Claws lifted his arm, " . . . because of what I hatched to be." He clenched his fist, and set it down. "But that doesn't mean I should be as evil as them. That is why I left the Stronghold, because I did not want to fall victim to violence because of Burn. You could have done the same, Three-Eyes. You could have been better than what the world taught you to be. Instead you endured it. You let it into your life, and now this war happened because of you. All these deaths, this brutality, it happened because of you. If the truth got out, one would say the Prophecy exists all because of you."
"They won't find out - I heard you tried to convince them about it. As I mentioned before, you have always been the soft one. Always seeing the different side of dragons. That is what makes you weak. That is what makes every dragon in Pyrrhia weak. They are nothing compared to the dragons that led us during the Scorching. Everything that you see, and everything that has been built will be brought down because of what I have done."
" . . . You're insane."
"They will all kill themselves."
"Is that what you want? A world painted in blood? Eventually, someone will come along and bring an end to everything that you have done."
"That is why I have returned, Desolate. The Prophecy will do nothing to stop this war, and it never will. It will rage on for a hundred years . . . but you know the truth. You know if you kill me . . . all of this will stop. The war, the violence, the fighting, dragons will move on from it. This world must be stronger. They must remember what we used to be! As I have said, Desolate: A real dragon deserves a proper death." Aftermath walked over to the far corner of the arena towards a rope. " . . . And it must be done . . . in front of the world!"
Aftermath pulled the rope. The giant red cloth above started to fall, bringing the sound of a hundred dragons. Six-Claws was right: He was in the Stronghold, where it all began. SandWings stood in their seats, some in armor, some not, but all who have pledged their loyalty to Burn. They stomped, they clapped, chanting the tune that asks for blood:
"Ho, Ha. Ha Ha.
"Ho, Ha. Jya Jya.
"Ho, Ha. Ha Ha.
"Ho, Ha. Ra Ra.
"Ho, Ha. Ha Ha.
"Ho, Hjya. Jya Jya.
"Ho, Ha. Ha Ha.
"Ho, Ra. Ra Ra."
Aftermath laughed. "Welcome back to your past, Desolate. The place where you were first accepted by a dragon who never cared about you. Do not think I have forgotten how much you have dreaded this place . . . and the last dragon . . . you would ever want to meet."
Aftermath turned and looked up, Six-Claws following his gaze, and so did the entire crowd. There, coming out into the light, in all her glory . . . was Queen Burn herself. She wore black armor on her torso, legs, and arms; her helmet covered almost the entirety of her face; there were long, thin spikes around her armor; holes were scattered across her wings; horns filled with cracks; large, bloody scars were seen around her body, from battles . . . and mistreatment.
No one said a word as the queen walked above the crowd, menacingly, threateningly, followed by her brother, Smolder, who did not so much as look up at her as they walked. When Burn was a few steps away from her throne, she jerked her head . . . and stared dead in the eyes at Six-Claws. He froze, looking back at the queen with fear in his eyes, and noticed that Burn's right eye was almost scratched out, making it look pale white.
Burn slowly sat down on her throne, not daring to take her eyes off of Six-Claws, and Smolder not bothering to even lift his head.
Silence fell, and the queen spoke: " . . . Come crawling back . . . I see."
" . . . You were a tyrant," Six-Claws called back.
"No one has ever talked back to me in a long time. Are you Six-Claws? Or are you Desolate? The real 'Six-Claws' would not speak to me like that . . . nor would he come back to face me, or," she turned her head, " . . . him."
Desolate followed her gaze, towards Aftermath. " . . . Why? She would kill you without hesitation."
"But she knew the truth," Aftermath replied in a voice only they could hear, "and she thought my intentions of killing you would be . . . necessary. The flames of war must be fed . . . and you try to douse them."
"What quarrel would Burn have with me?"
"Isn't it obvious, Desolate? She collects . . . trinkets, from around the world . . . bloody, trinkets. Not only does the queen want you dead . . . but your 'Six-Claws' . . . would be perfect to add to her collection."
Six-Claws did not dare let fear come over him. He stood his ground as the crowd awaited the moment of brawl.
Aftermath took off his hat, revealing his third eye, and tossed it aside. He strained his claws and roared: "You are here to end your past, to end the war once and for all. Show me, what a true, dragon, is."
Desolate and Aftermath glared each other down as the crowd stomped their feet, cracked their claws, shouting the chant, begging for the fight, pleading for blood. The two dragons roared, and charged at one another, soon taking flight, and clashed. They thrashed as hard as they could, but all strikes were diverted. Eventually, Aftermath shot fire, blinding Desolate. He growled in pain, then Aftermath clawed his head, almost knocking him out of the air. Six-Claws forced his eyes to open, and slashed. Aftermath looked unharmed. He smirked, thrusting himself, bringing Six-Claws to the sand, lashing at his face, then flew away, getting at a distance. Desolate sat up, in a daze, but that was when he was bombarded by flames, and roared in pain. The next thing he knew was that he was kicked in the back, and landed hard on his face. He was lifted up by the tail, and thrown to the wall.
The crowd's cheer was like an earthquake. Desolate thought for a moment that he had died, but he got up, and was slashed in the face by Aftermath, kneed in the stomach, and shoved to the ground. Aftermath grabbed Six-Claws by the head, but he quickly flew away from him. Six-Claws turned back around, and blasted his fire. Aftermath ran, the flames following his movements. He took flight, and charged at Desolate. He took another breath, and shot fire. Aftermath averted his flight pattern, spun in circles, and lashed his tail, deflecting the flames at Six-Claws, bringing him down.
This was when the blood started falling, and Burn leaned forward, eager to see the red. Aftermath laughed as Six-Claws struggled to his feet. Once he stood, the crowd screamed at them, demanding that Aftermath would kill him already, to tear off his limbs, his wings, tail, and head. Desolate put his hand to his mouth and coughed. He looked at his palm, and saw red droplets. He turned to Aftermath, who bared his teeth, awaiting a battle. Six-Claws roared. He will not die like this. He will not die a coward.
Desolate threw his tail, but Aftermath barely dodged the barb, and backed away from the next three strikes. He grabbed Six-Claws' tail, and threw him aside. He lashed his claw, but Desolate rolled out of the way, and kicked him in the leg, forcing him down to one knee. Six-Claws thrashed at his adversary, wanting to hurt him as much as he could, and soon throwing blood. This made the crowd cheer, but it wasn't as enthusiastic.
Desolate soon ran out of breath. He hunched over, hands on his knees, but the rage stayed on his face. He jerked his head when he heard Aftermath laughing, face covered in scratches, eyes filled with malice. Six-Claws roared and threw his tail. Aftermath caught it, and shot a fireball. Desolate yelped in pain and backed away. Aftermath lunged at him, wrapping a claw around his throat, and slamming his head against the ground. He thrashed for a while, then grabbed the tail barb . . . and ripped it off of Desolate's tail. The SandWing shrieked in pain as the crowd cheered and roared at the sky.
Aftermath grabbed Six-Claws by the throat, and growled: "You are a coward . . . and you will die like one."
Burn was happy as a dragonet. Aftermath dug his claws into Desolate's throat, drawing blood, and placed a hand on his forehead. Aftermath rammed Desolate against the sand, and as Six-Claws roared his last scream, Aftermath twisted his head left, right . . . and that was all he needed to do to end his life.
The crowd was silent for a moment, then cheered and roared at the top of their lungs as Aftermath stood up, glaring down at his beaten adversary. He grabbed the corpse's arm, and dug his claws into the wrist, releasing the hand from the limb. Aftermath lifted the six clawed hand above his head, and the crowd continued to scream.
Complete silence fell when Burn landed on the ground, blowing sand and dust in all directions. She stood up, all eyes fixated on the dragons below.
" . . . Congratulations," Queen Burn hissed, " . . . you have won my excellence."
" . . . The prize is noble, isn't it?" Aftermath said.
"Indeed." Burn walked towards him, her pace somewhat menacing, as if she would kill him right then and there. Burn took the claw from his grasp, and held it to her face. "You have fought well. Blood was drawn."
"As it has been for the past fifteen years."
" . . . Yes." Burn examined the hand, then set it down. "I must thank you for your . . . gratitude, for retrieving me that . . . wonderful object."
"And I must thank you for giving me my vengeance."
" . . . Yes, of course. Except, there is one more trinket I must have."
" . . . That is?"
"Oh, Aftermath . . . I thought that would be obvious for you to figure out . . . ."
They stared at one another. The malevolence in Queen Burn's eyes did not fool Aftermath for what her true intentions were.
He smiled up at her. " . . . Of course you would find my difference would be perfect for your collection . . . and I have had enough experience to take you on."
Burn smirked back. " . . . We'll see."
The glare in their faces was eternal, and served as a sign for one of the greatest battles in the history of the arena. The crowd sensed this, once again starting to chant:
" . . . Ho, Ha . . . Ha Ha.
" . . . Ho, Jya . . . Jya Jya.
" . . . Ho, Ra . . . Ha Ha.
" . . . Ho, Ra . . . Ra Ra."
Burn was the first to strike. She roared, leaping off the ground and throwing a hard claw. Aftermath dodged the strike, and slashed at her stomach, but because of the armor, it barely hurt her. Burn easily grabbed him by the horns, threw him in a circle, then to the ground. She charged. With quick thinking, Aftermath flew out of the way, spun round, and kicked the queen in the back of the neck. He breathed a plume of fire, then backed away. Burn turned, giving off a malicious scowl. She roared while blasting fire, Aftermath returning the strike. The flames collided, except Burn was much bigger and stronger, thus she was able to throw her adversary to the ground, almost burning him alive.
Aftermath roared in pain, but managed to douse the flames and stand back up - his coat was scorched. Burn charged, and so did Aftermath. Once they came into impact, Aftermath jumped, breathed a fireball, and flew over Burn's head. She growled in pain. He landed and threw a claw at her leg, bringing her down on one knee. He then jumped on her back, wrapping an arm around her throat and thrashing as hard as he could. Burn growled and took flight, the crowd cheering on their queen. She grabbed Aftermath by the head, trying to pull him off, but he leaned back, choking her. Burn tried to maneuver her flight pattern while attempting to shake her enemy off. Aftermath leaned forward, diverting themselves straight down, and before she knew it, Burn was thrusted into the wall just as Aftermath took flight and watched her fall.
Burn hit the side of the wall, a loud cracking sound echoing on impact. The crowd gasped and stared wide eyed at their fallen queen. Aftermath touched ground, and examined the body. For a moment, nothing happened, and the crowd thought their sovereign was dead.
Then there was movement. Burn groaned, and slowly stood back up, pieces of her helmet falling off her head. The crowd cheered as their queen stood, and glared at Aftermath. Her eyes were filled with rage, revealing the face covered in the scars of her past and previous battles.
Over the screaming crowd, she roared, and charged at her enemy on all fours. Aftermath charged as well, but was not ready for what Burn was about to do. She sidestepped and kicked him hard in the side, then brought a claw down, instantly drawing blood. Aftermath growled. Burn grabbed him by the neck, digging her claws into his scales, kneeing and thrashing at him as hard as she could, releasing all of her anger out on him. The queen lifted him above her head, the crowd cheering and chanting at the same time, demanding that she kill him in the most painful way she could think of.
Burn threw him a few feet, ripping off his coat in the process. She threw the coat to the sand and charged again, ramming into Aftermath before he could get a chance to stand back up. She growled, raised her tail . . . and drove the barb into his infected arm. He roared in pain as she lifted him with her tail, the poison already beginning the course through his veins. The crowd was having the time of their lives. Burn dropped her adversary, ripping off pieces of scales. She stared down at him, and realized he was still alive.
Burn knelt down and grabbed Aftermath by the head, lifting him up until they were face to face. They gave off the hardest scowls. She roared in his face, Aftermath doing the same. Burn raised a claw, and drove it at his head. Aftermath caught her arm, preventing her from striking. Burn's glare became more threatening as she tried to thrust her arm forward, but Aftermath used all his strength to stop her from doing so.
The crowd sensed tension rising, and their chant became louder and faster as the battle was nearing its end. Burn and Aftermath growled, which soon became a roar, and continued to scream even as they were running out of breath. With one last strike, Burn drove her claw into Aftermath's third eye. He roared in pain as blood trickled down his face.
Burn let the pain sink in. After a few seconds went by, she pulled her arm out of his head and watched her adversary fall. The crowd cheered at the top of their lungs as Burn looked at her reddened claw. She clenched her fists, and roared at the sky.
A few hours passed, and the day turned to evening, but not even a beam from the sun shined down in the darkened room. This room was large, engulfed in shadows. Aftermath was on his knees, face covered in dry blood, wings bound and arms held above his head by chains. He smelled the stench of decay from the skeletons around him. He examined his surroundings, but the bones were the only things he could see.
Suddenly, the large door in front of him creaked open. Queen Burn walked in, followed by two guards. Her armor was gone, but her glare was still plastered on her face. She and Aftermath stared each other down, the guards standing at the entrance while silence filled the air.
" . . . I could kill you," Burn said, " . . . here and now . . . but I take pleasure in watching dragons suffer and rot in the Underworld."
"Remember that it was I that killed your mother, Burn," Aftermath hissed. "That is the only pleasure you have received from me."
" . . . Yes . . . and the war as well. . . . You and I only know the truth."
Through all the pain he was enduring, Aftermath smiled. " . . . And I know a secret you will never find out for as long as I live."
Burn tilted her head, then grabbed him by the throat. "Yes . . . and that is why I am letting you live . . . temporarily, that is. . . . Where, is, the Eye, of Onyx? You were the one who killed my mother, and she never took that thing off . . . where, is, it?"
" . . . Heh . . . heh, heh. . . . It is already too late, Burn . . . the war has gone on for fifteen years . . . it can't be stopped now."
"Where is the Eye?"
" . . . You should have been cautious, Burn . . . ." The life drained from Aftermath's face, and in his final moments, sputtered: " . . . Blood will fall . . . for years to come. . . . The war will rage . . . it will kill millions a day. . . . My blood lives on . . . my legacy lives on . . . in the lines . . . of war . . . ." His head fell back, his last breath escaping his mouth.
Burn stared. Her scowl returned, and roared at the corpse. "Assemble all soldiers in the area, search the lands from every corner of this continent. FIND ME THE EYE OF ONYX!"
Five years later, the Stronghold is as gruesome as ever. A graveyard of corpses never given a burial ground, hanged as trophies for a sick museum of victories. It smelled of decay, littering the room as flies claimed them as their home.
Sunny the SandWing and Prince Smolder walked past these artifacts, trying their best to ignore them, but Sunny's fear could not take her eyes away from them. The bodies hung all around, stuffed like the prize of the century; the dislocated arms preserved in tanks; odd fish creatures Sunny never knew existed; and hundreds of bones lying on the floors.
" . . . Why does she do this?" Sunny asked.
Smolder turned to her. "Burn? No one ever knows why . . . but I could take a guess."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't want to talk about it . . . that's only between family - a dead one. Come on, Scarlet does not like to wait on her food."
Sunny stared at him, then at the Scavenger on his shoulder, who did not so much as look at any of the collections. " . . . Why do you do this?"
"Do what?"
"Follow your sister's orders? You don't have to stay here."
"Where would I go? How could I leave? Burn will find me eventually, and bring me back to give me hours of torture. She says it keeps her feared by everyone in Pyrrhia."
"That's awful."
" . . . Yes, it is."
Sunny turned back to the trinkets. "How could anyone keep something like this?"
"Burn is delusional, and psychotic. She always finds interest in these things, saying that, quote: 'They make me feel comfortable, and make me happy every second of the day.'"
"Goodness!"
They continued to walk, soon seeing the stairs to Scarlet's cell. Something caught Sunny's eye. . . . It was a skull. She realized something else about this skull, something that sent shivers down her spine. . . . The skull had three eye sockets.
Reluctantly, she asked: " . . . Is that . . . real?"
Smolder stared at the skull for a long moment, then replied: " . . . Yes. The strangest dragon to ever exist on the continent . . . and the most dangerous."
"More dangerous than Burn!?"
"That's what they said when he was alive. You don't know the full story, but now is not the time to talk about it. If I ever find time to tell you about it . . . you probably find out why you are one of the Dragonets of Destiny."
Sunny stared at him wide eyed upon hearing that statement, then turned back to the skull. "What did this dragon do?"
" . . . Horrible things. In his death, he left behind a legacy that will write history and be remembered for thousands of years . . . the only dragon who almost succeeded in killing Burn. . . . His name was . . . Aftermath."
