When weariness began to take over, Plato had allowed the three new dragons to stay in his home. He lied awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what Aethra the SkyWing had meant when she talked about a world beyond the caves. Could it be true? If so, what did it look like? How have they not known about it yet? What was on the outside?
While contemplating this, Plato was about to reenter slumber until he heard voices. He jerked his eyes open, and sat up in bed. There was a conversation going on right outside of his home. Quietly, Plato stepped out of his bed, carefully walked over Cuan the SeaWing and Nostradamus the NightWing, realizing that Aethra was gone. He came to a thought that maybe she might be outside, talking to somebody? Plato stayed behind the rock wall, not wanting to be seen, and listened closely.
The voice was definitely Aethra . . . and the other voice she spoke to was very familiar to him. Plato's eyes went wide, recognizing the voice after hearing it more. He had not heard it in a very long while, and never thought he would hear the voice, or meet the dragon again. There was no doubt. The voice Aethra was speaking to . . . was the cloaked dragon!
Plato knew that voice - that horrifying, life defying voice - he could practically feel the fire burning against his face. He could sense the evil, the pure wickedness plaguing his soul . . . and it scared him.
He stood there, listening to the conversation until he heard talonsteps come back. Almost instantly, Plato dashed over the dragons, and dove into his bed, lying on his side. He was facing the wall, and the feeling of dread was gone. Plato knew it was Aethra coming back into the cave, lying down, and going back to sleep. The hybrid could not believe what he had heard . . . and knew he must discuss the situation with someone . . . but who?
When everyone was beginning to wake up, Plato found Nostradamus standing outside of his home, admiring the jars and other interesting artifacts around the entrance to the cave. Plato knew he had to talk to someone about what he heard.
He took a breath, then said: "Hello, Nostradamus."
"Hello, Plato," the NightWing replied.
"How have you slept?"
"Very well. You?"
" . . . I was disturbed while I was sleeping."
"Disturbed by what?"
Plato was hesitant at first, and considered not discussing what he heard, but knew he had to say: " . . . You say you read minds. I guess we both have something in common - we possess great power. Yet, I must ask you something: Have you had . . . suspicions or doubts about Aethra?"
Nostradamus stared at him with a hint of confusion. " . . . What do you mean?"
"I am only asking: When she came to ask you to join her in attempting to travel to a supposed outside world . . . did she look, or act . . . a little odd?"
The NightWing was silent for a moment, then replied: " . . . I thought it was strange that she had those cuts and bruises - I didn't think too much of that. But, it was very strange that she somehow knew I was a mind reader. I never told anyone I could read minds or predict the future, somehow she knew. I tried reading her mind, but . . . ."
"What did you see?"
Nostradamus was hesitant for a long moment. He put a hand to his mouth, trying to calm himself. Finally, he said: " . . . I saw darkness - at first. I saw fire . . . a never ending wasteland of fire. There were dragons . . . and other species, screaming like I had never heard before. After that I saw a dragon. It wore this . . . pitch black cloak . . . fire was raging inside its mouth . . . it didn't have any scales . . . and . . . ."
"Burning red eyes," Plato answered for him.
Nostradamus turned towards him. "What?"
" . . . I have . . . seen that dragon before . . . a long while ago. I thought . . . I heard Aethra speak to it . . . when we were all asleep."
The NightWing stared at him. " . . . Plato . . . have you ever heard of . . . the Lord of Flies?"
"The . . . Lord of Flies? What does that mean?"
" . . . It is a creature that is bred from pure wickedness and the most heinous of sins. No one knows where it came from, no one knows how it came to be . . . but its power is eternal, and grows more every time someone sins. Anything can tell lies, anything can sin . . . and the Lord of Flies harnesses that power. It rules the Underworld . . . and has since the beginning."
"Why do they call him the Lord of Flies?"
"It is not a he - it is a living embodiment of evil; they all refer to the creature as 'it.' They call it Lord of Flies because it is as cruel as them, and is always seen with those bugs. . . . You have encountered it?"
" . . . Yes."
"What did it say?"
" . . . I don't remember."
Nostradamus stared at him with untrustworthiness. "What I saw in Aethra's mind . . . I do not think her actions are her own. Her consciousness may be there, but . . . she is poisoned with wickedness."
"Is that how she knows about you and me? About a world beyond the caves?"
"I believe so . . . because the Lord of Flies told her about it."
"Then . . . what do we do?"
"Try to convince her to stop this. . . . The Lord of Flies must not spread its evil."
Plato nodded slowly in agreement. He looked at his hands, and knew exactly what the cloaked dragon meant when it said, "I rule flies."
" . . . What do we do now?"
" . . . I don't know."
"She didn't listen to us."
"I know."
" . . . I guess we're actually doing this."
" . . . It seems so . . . ."
Plato and Nostradamus sat talking to one another right outside of Aethra's home. They thought this would be the best moment for conversation, seeing as not everyone in the caves were awake.
" . . . You have been there before?" Plato asked. "To the surface?"
" . . . Yes," Nostradamus replied, solemnly.
"Why haven't you told anyone?"
"Because I knew what they would do. I knew the risks every dragon in these caves would do. They would take that world for themselves, and kill all of the Scavengers to get it."
"They killed your parents."
"Yet they don't deserve to suffer like we have. I don't want dragons to be like this, I don't want any dragon in all these caves to become savages."
"We're already savages."
"Scavengers have a consciousness, they're not animals."
"And you feel pity for them? Why do they have that world instead of us? Why do they live in beauty and perfection, while we live in darkness and misery?"
" . . . Have you ever loved someone?"
"What?"
"Someone you cared about? Someone who has always had your back? Someone who changed your opinion about everything? Have you ever hated your life, but someone helped you see the better side? The better side of everything?"
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
"I'm saying there can be a better outcome for all this. We don't have to kill the Scavengers, we don't have to burn the world to make it ours. I've seen a future, Plato, a future where we make peace with all the Scavengers throughout the entire world."
"So you are saying we fail in this scorching?"
"No, I'm saying we make peace with them, and live as one for many years."
"Then we must fight harder, strike with better accuracy, and use our flames to burn everything we can."
"No, we don't have to. I have not lived very long, but I am wise enough to know that there can be another outcome to this. If we just try to convince Aethra about her actions, then maybe we can share that world with the Scavengers, so we do not make them miserable. If we do not make peace with them now, there is still a chance that we can. I've seen it, Plato, far off into the future, where all wars are over, and all evil sovereigns are dead."
"Then you doubt your own strength as a dragon."
"All I want is peace between all breeds of dragons, and all Scavengers. No matter what we look like, no matter how we act, no matter how they look, and no matter how they act, we can still have peace. I doubted those words before, but my parents saw that doubt as the complete opposite. We can have prosperity, we can have freedom, even with Scavengers. Please, you have to believe me."
"No, Nostradamus, I refuse to believe every word that comes out of your mouth. We are dragons, and we deserve that land."
"What about the Lord of Flies' plans? What about its goal to spread as much sin and wickedness as it can? I have seen a future, where that monster takes over this entire world because of all the sins committed by us. If we do this, if we commence the Scorching, then this world, becomes the Underworld."
Plato glared, then said coldly: "We have been living in the Underworld our entire lives. I have the greatest power ever known to dragon kind. None has ever witnessed this strength other than the hybrids. . . . I can kill the Lord of Flies with just one enchantment, Nostradamus . . . if I have to, I will use it." With that, he walked back into Aethra's cave, while saying: "This 'peace' that you see belongs to us."
Nostradamus watched him disappear into the shadows, saying to himself: " . . . But I have seen peace, and it is real . . . and dragonets bring it with them . . . ."
. . . It was over . . . it had taken them two months for the Scorching to take place. When it had concluded, Plato announced that Aethra shall be the first queen, and since it was a female that led them, he declared all sovereigns of all tribes shall only be queens.
Five years had passed since the Scorching had come and ended. Even still, Plato thought about what Nostradamus had said about the Lord of Flies being able to spread its chaos. The creature could consume all the sins throughout the continent, and use it against the dragons. He thought about Aethra's supposed involvement with the Lord of Flies, and had consulted on the matter with Nostradamus. The NightWing had said that he would go to Aethra, and ask about the cloaked dragon.
Plato was living in the Rainforest Kingdom - which was ruled by Queen Astrid - waiting for Nostradamus to return. After a long while, he saw him fly down, and land in front of him.
"What did she say?" Plato asked, standing up from his seat on a rock.
"Well," Nostradamus replied, " . . . she seemed skeptical, but . . . ."
"But what?"
" . . . I kept asking her if she had heard about a dragon without scales, fire burning inside its mouth, wearing a black cloak, and had red eyes, but she wouldn't listen. She also seemed to know exactly what I was talking about, yet ignored me almost the whole time. I barely even got a word of any information."
"She didn't even mention the Lord of Flies? Or any hints of involvement?"
"Nothing Aethra said was related to that topic. It was a waste of time, but she definitely seems to know something."
Plato contemplated this for a moment, then said: " . . . Alright . . . what do we do now?"
"We should keep an eye on her for the time being. If she truly has any relation to the Lord of Flies, then we should stop its rise to power as soon as we can." Plato nodded in agreement, then Nostradamus asked: "What about you?"
"I'm sorry?"
"How are you doing? It seems to me that we have not been friends for a very long time. Even though it has only been five years, it feels to be a lifetime since the Scorching."
" . . . I'm doing alright. I can feel my power get stronger everyday, and every single time I use it."
"Does it ever hurt to use it?"
"No, but . . . I always feel strange whenever I do."
"What do you mean?"
" . . . I'm not sure."
Nostradamus hesitated for a moment, lost in thought. He turned to leave, saying: "Stay safe, Plato . . . use your Animus Magic wisely."
"I will. Say, Nostradamus. Do you remember Aethra's old friend? I think his name was, Cuan?"
"Yes, I do remember him. Why do you ask?"
"Do you think he's . . . still down there? In the caves?"
" . . . I tried to see a future where he comes out of the caves . . . I do not see him ever stepping into the light of the sun ever again. I think . . . he is still there, down in the caves - I hope he is thriving well . . . . Good day, Plato." Without saying anything else, Nostradamus took flight.
Later on in the day, Plato decided to take a walk through the rainforest as dark clouds loomed overhead. He liked the rain, and the forest as well. It always brought a calming feeling to his mind, and was nice to experience droplets of water fall from the sky. The rain was calm, quiet, even when it thundered. Lightning did happen to roll around in the clouds every once in a while, and Plato looked forward to a nice relaxing evening in his home, listening to the sound of nature.
A few minutes went by and Plato decided to head back to his home. As he did so, he heard something in the trees. It could only be a bird, but he lifted his head out of curiosity. He did not see anything, and decided to ignore it. After a moment, he heard something again. Plato got a little concerned at this point, and strained his claws. Just then, something large fell from the trees right in front of him. Plato let out a yelp, but realized it was a dragon, a SilkWing to be exact. He cautiously walked up to the dragon, making sure it was not hurt. Then it stood up.
"Oh!" The SilkWing said. "Hello!"
"Uh . . . hi," said Plato, "are you alright?"
"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"
"You fell from the trees."
"Yeah . . . that was a mistake."
"What were you doing?"
"I was trying to use my flamesilk as a rope."
" . . . Right."
"What's your name?"
"What?"
"I said, what is your name?"
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Because I want to know your name. Plus, aren't you one of the dragons that led us in the Scorching?"
" . . . Yes. My name is . . . Plato."
"Plato?"
"Yes."
The SilkWing tilted her head. " . . . Hm . . . what an interesting name. I mean, it's not bad at all, it's just . . . interesting. My name is Cleotha."
"Cleotha? . . . That's very beautiful."
"Oh, heh . . . thank you. I like your name too. It's very creative."
"Thank you."
Thunder boomed overhead, and Cleotha jumped. She turned to Plato, and asked: "Heh, hey, uh . . . can I . . . stay with you? At least until the storm stops?"
"Uuh . . . sure, I guess."
They walked back, and reached his home just as the rain began to fall. Plato prepared himself a small snack and some water as Cleotha examined his place. She admired all his collections and artifacts.
She turned to him and said: "I like your home."
"Thank you," Plato said, sitting at his table.
"Sorry I'm interrupting your privacy."
"It's alright. The rain is very nice, but it can cause some complications." A moment of hesitation, then Plato decided to ask: "What were you doing out there in the middle of the rainforest?"
"Well, uh . . . ." Cleotha was hesitant, and she sat across from him. " . . . It's a long story. I . . . had my parents' funeral the other day."
Plato stared at her. " . . . I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's fine . . . I just, wanted to clear my head, you know? These past few days have been very rough for me."
"I understand. I . . . lost my parents at a very young age."
"Oh . . . I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault. It was back when we all lived in the caves . . . and before hybrids were seen as regular dragons - we were hated back then."
"I'm so sorry."
" . . . You're very kind. You know, you remind me of someone."
"I do?"
"Yes . . . her name was Brier - she was a LeafWing SkyWing hybrid. Like I said, back in the caves, hybrids were despised. Let's just say: . . . She was hated, and . . . ."
Cleotha stared at him with saddened eyes. " . . . I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry we weren't nice to you before."
" . . . It doesn't matter now, it's in the past. . . . You are very much like her."
"Was she pretty?"
"Very pretty. I only knew her for a very little while."
"Oh. . . . You must have liked her very much."
" . . . I really thought I could have a real friend after so long."
Cleotha was silent for a moment, then asked: " . . . Can I be your friend?"
Plato lifted his head, a little amount of hope forming on his face. " . . . Of course you can."
They easily became friends after that, living in the same house from then on, and getting to know one another better everyday. Three years went by, all the while Plato keeping an eye on Aethra and keeping in touch with Nostradamus . . . and proposing to Cleotha. They had two children not long after that; one a SilkWing NightWing hybrid, the other a SilkWing RainWing hybrid. The son named Darius, the daughter named Isadora, hatched at the same time, and both looked similar to their parents in some way.
Throughout this time, Plato had forgotten about Nostradamus' theories about the Lord of Flies, and would ignore him every time they spoke, only paying attention to his family. One night, they were having dinner; they laughed, they played, everything was perfect. Plato had a family. All his anguish and grief had disappeared. Unaware of the cloaked figure standing a few feet away from his home. It watched him be happy with his family, saw him have no worries in life . . . at least, for now. The figure had not seen Plato in a long time . . . now thought it was the best time for him to release the full potential of his Animus Magic.
"I knew you would come back," said a voice, "I knew you were behind all of these actions."
The cloaked dragon turned around, and met eyes with a NightWing.
" . . . Thou underestimate me . . . as thou hast from the beginning."
"I am not afraid of you, Lord of Flies," growled Nostradamus. "Your reign ends here, and now."
"No . . . it hast only begun. This is the beginning of a great conquest. Plato's son hast Animus Magic from his father, and is only starting to learn his power. Except, Plato will soon be able to unlock his greatest potential."
"And what is that? Are you going to make him raise the Underworld, and force him to release all of the horrors that live there? You were there when Aethra wanted to take this world for all of dragon kind. You told her about it, because you want all of us to follow you. Even when Plato got his Animus Magic, he got it from you."
"Yes, Nostradamus . . . now, it is only a matter of time before I taketh back what is rightfully mine. Animus Magic will live on."
"No. You will not continue to reign in secrecy, Lord of Flies. I will stop you, I will kill you."
"Nostradamus . . . hast thou forgotten who I am?" The Lord of Flies lifted its arm, enchanting vines in the ground to grab the NightWing by the throat, instantly blocking his windpipe, forcing him to his knees. "Doth thou not remember the stories thou hast been told long ago? About how I came from nowhere . . . about how I crawled out of the Underworld to fully exist? How I plan to extinguish all light, and bringeth my own? That is what I desire. Thou not seest it, thou canst never seest the truth, because thou refuse to believe in it. Thou saith thou are not afraid of me, resist my temptations, and stand against me, but tell me: . . . If all hope dies, and thy visions about dragonets defeating me . . . why doth thou not have faith? Why doth thou not have hope, when thou canst seest it?"
Nostradamus lashed at his restraints as hard as he could. Because of the fiery red eyes however, he felt himself slip away from his life. That was when he felt a burning sensation all around his body.
The next morning, Plato was outside with his son, teaching him how to use his Animus Magic.
"I can't do it, Dad," Darius complained.
"Yes you can, Son," Plato reassured him. "Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and focus on the task at hand."
Darius the SilkWing NightWing hybrid stared at his father. He turned to the rock that was the same size as him, closed his eyes, and focused.
He took a deep breath, and said: " . . . I enchant this rock in front of me to rise up from the ground, then back down."
They both waited, Darius concentrating. When he opened his eyes, nothing had happened. He stomped his talon in frustration.
"Hey, it's alright," Plato said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "Listen, you will get it someday. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday, someday, you will get that power to its fullest."
Darius looked up at his father, then back at the rock with disappointment. Plato kissed him gently on the head and patted his back.
"Plato!" A voice shouted from above.
The RainWing NightWing hybrid turned, expecting to see his wife. To his surprise . . . he saw Aethra. She flew down in front of him, frantic and panting.
"Plato, I need to tell you something, it's important."
"Dad?" Darius asked. "Who is this?"
"This is my friend, Aethra," Plato said. "I told you about her before, haven't I?" He turned to his old friend. "Is there something wrong?"
Queen Aethra was hesitant for a moment. " . . . Plato, something happened last night. We don't exactly know what, but . . . ." She trailed off.
"Aethra, what's wrong? What happened?"
" . . . It's Nostradamus . . . he's dead."
A few days later the funeral was held. Three hours afterwards, Plato and Aethra stood alone in her throne room in the Sky Kingdom, not saying anything to one another. It felt like they had been there for over a day, mourning for their friend.
Finally, Plato lifted his head, facing the SkyWing Queen. "You said . . . he was found, burned alive?"
Aethra lifted her head, face full of fear and grief. " . . . Yes."
"How? Was he attacked? Was someone after him?"
"There was no sign that could prove he was attacked by someone. He was just . . . burned."
"Wasn't there anything else at the scene? Any sign of disturbance? There is no way he could have burned and died without encountering someone."
"It's as if he died right there on the spot."
"How in Pyrrhia could I not have noticed it? It happened right outside of my home. How could I have not seen him out my window?"
"You saw the scene. He was covered in grass, charred."
Plato put his claws to his eyes. " . . . We have to find out what happened to him."
"That's the thing, Plato." Aethra stared at him with a stern look.
Plato felt offended by this. "What are you looking at me like that for?"
" . . . You have Animus Magic - everyone knows you do. Everyone in the Rainforest Kingdom has been talking about Nostradamus' death . . . and you."
"What about me?"
Aethra was hesitant. She took a deep breath, and said slowly: " . . . They all think you killed him."
Plato stared at her with aggravation. "Are you accusing me of something?"
"I'm not saying you did kill him, but everyone else thinks that you did."
"How could they? I have given them everything they could ever ask for. I gave dragons around the entire continent gifts using my magic, I have even given them Animus Magic itself. Almost every tribe in the world has an Animus dragon, and they all told me it was the best thing they ever had. Now they're turning against me? After all that I have done for them?"
"Dragons who are weak and have the lowest ranking are afraid of the ones stronger than them. That is why we have conflicts between kingdoms. They all want power, they want the world to be whatever they want it to be, and they all want control."
"Don't they all? But that's the thing, they don't need control, they don't need anything else. I have given them protection, I have given them tools, I have given them whatever object that has been enchanted by me. I am the first. Out of anything, they should be thanking me."
"If you keep up this attitude, then all of them would have suspicions that you killed Nostradamus."
"What about my family? They'll go after them. Who knows what they will say, what lies they will tell. Anyone could turn against me, even the dragons I have enchanted with Animus Magic."
"Do you not know how important that is? How much power you gave to the world? You said it yourself. Every tribe in Pyrrhia has an Animus dragon amongst them. And they can use it against you."
"Tell me something, Aethra. How did you know about this world? When we still lived in the caves, none of us believed there was light other than torches and flamesilk. Then you came along and told us there was something beyond the caves, and when we went to the surface for the first time, you had never seen it before. In fact, you knew exactly which dragons you needed to take that world for our own 'greater good.' How did you know about the surface when we had no theories, or ideas as to how there could possibly be a world outside of the caves? Tell me, Queen Aethra of the SkyWings, the one who led us into battle against the Scavengers, the first queen, the one who practically gave us this world, do you know, the Lord of Flies?"
Aethra was taken aback. All of her emotion was drained from her face. She stared at Plato with disbelief. He glared at her hard, waiting for an answer. Aethra had no words to say. She could only take a few steps back, turn, and run. The RainWing NightWing hybrid watched her leave with a scowl before turning around, and flying out of the kingdom.
Their lives had not been the same ever since Nostradamus had died. Plato made sure his family would be safe, and glared at anyone who passed by their home, even if they meant no harm to them. Plato had strong suspicions about the residents, and was too angry to realize that not every dragon was after him and his family.
To make sure of this, Plato had gone to a shop, and bought a blue sapphire shaped like a star. He brought it home and examined it while Cleotha was out with their children teaching them how to fly. He hoped they would be safe, and tried to come up with an enchantment for the sapphire. It had to be specific, it had to be important, and no one else should know about it but him. He wanted to keep him and his family safe, and the only way he knew how to do that . . . was to spy on the dragons who were against them. But how? If he did, then everyone would suspect he was the one who murdered Nostradamus - which is why he bought the sapphire.
After a while, he had come up with an enchantment, and said: " . . . I enchant this sapphire so that when I sleep with it, and think about someone, I will be able to enter their dreams."
That night, Plato slept with the sapphire, hoping it would work to his expectations, thinking about the dragon who came to their home earlier that day, and had accused Plato of the murder. To his relief, it did work, and Plato found himself inside of the dream of another dragon. He saw him, flying in the sky, without a worry in the world. Plato had noticed this dragon was alone - maybe he always was, served him right for messing with his wife and kids. He saw that the dragon wanted to have the ability to fly as fast as a SkyWing.
Not only that, but Plato also took notice that the dragon had no immoral intentions - maybe he just wanted to be left alone. Plato also considered the dragon only went up to his family because he was scared. That didn't matter. By seeing this dream, Plato knew that the dragon could have easily gone up to him and asked to fly as fast as a SkyWing. He told himself if that dragon ever decided to ask for forgiveness and desire that ability, Plato would refuse his offer.
A few weeks later, Plato was visiting the IceWing he had given his Animus Magic to.
"So, Andri," Plato said, "how is your experience with Animus Magic coming along?"
"It's going very well," Andri the IceWing Animus replied. "I've been helping so many dragons around the kingdom, even the queen herself!"
"That's very good."
"Um, Plato, can I ask you something?"
"What is the matter? Are you having trouble with your magic?"
"No, it's not that at all. I was just wondering: What does Animus mean exactly?"
Plato contemplated this for a moment. He had remembered what the Lord of- no - the cloaked dragon had said to him of what the true meaning of Animus is: "Animus means the soul."
"Oh, interesting. That's very beautiful."
" . . . Yes . . . yes it is."
"Hey, Plato, what is that thing in your hand?"
"Oh, this?" He held up the sapphire. "I call this a Dreamvisitor - it's a new enchanted object I came up with not that long ago. I was wondering if you would like to have it."
Andri took the sapphire from his hand, and examined it with amazement. "Wow! This is beautiful! Where did you find it?"
"I just got it at a shop, I thought it would be a good enchantment."
"What does it do?"
"If you sleep with it while thinking about one specific person, then you will enter that person's dream, and be able to talk with them through their dreams."
Andri's eyes went wide. "Woah! That sounds amazing!"
"Yes. I was actually thinking if . . . we could make copies of it?"
A month later, there was a small majority of Dreamvisitors around the continent, and at least two or three for each tribe. Plato had told the dragons who owned these objects to use them wisely, for it was a very important item. Plato had not suspected dragons were against him, but he was still skeptical.
One day, he was called to the Kingdom of Sand because there was a conflict going on between the queen's daughters. When he arrived, he was informed that the previous queen had died to a dragonbite viper, and her daughters were having an argument in the throne room.
Plato burst open the door, shouting: "What is going on here?"
The two SandWings jumped at the sudden entrance, and stared in fear at the hybrid.
"You know there is only one queen allowed," Plato boomed.
"I am the stronger sister," said the oldest SandWing.
"Shut up," said the youngest, "you know I am much stronger than you."
"Then prove it."
"Silence!" Plato roared. "If you two think you are stronger than the other, then fight." The two sisters stared at him in disbelief. Plato growled. "I said, if you two think you are stronger than the other, then you will fight one another."
With that said, almost the entire residents of the Kingdom of Sand stood in the stadium, watching intently as the battle began. Blood was thrown, bones were broken, but both sisters held back their strikes. They didn't want to kill their sibling, they didn't want this to happen, but their lust to be the next sovereign weighed heavy on them. Even still, they felt sorry for the other.
Plato saw this and grunted. Standing up, he walked into the treasury, found a rather interesting object, and brought it out to the crowd. He stood in the middle of the colosseum, and held the object high above his head. It was big enough so that he had to hold it in both hands. It was an eye, made of amber, with bat-like wings on the sides, and the pupil was made entirely of onyx.
"This," Plato announced, "shall be known as the Eye of Onyx. Whoever wears it around their neck, the eye must choose which queen shall be best to rule this kingdom." He held it in front of his face, and said: " . . . I enchant this eye to choose which SandWing will be best to rule the Kingdom of Sand, and give that wielder the power of the sun."
A moment went by, then Plato threw the eye at the oldest sibling, telling her to put it on. She did. After a while nothing happened, then her screams echoed throughout the stadium, and she was burned alive into nothing but ashes. The crowd gasped and screamed, but Plato did not acknowledge the SandWing's death, and threw the eye to the sister. She looked up at him with fear across her face, then slowly put the Eye of Onyx around her neck with shaking claws. She awaited the worst, but nothing happened. When something did happen, the eye started to glow, then died down after a few seconds.
"There," said Plato angrily, "the Eye has chosen you." He turned to the crowd. "And let this tradition be passed down to all queens of the Kingdom of Sand for as long as it thrives. Let it be known as well that if a queen shall die, or her daughter or citizens wish to be the next sovereign, they must fight to the death." He turned back to the SandWing. "What is your name?"
" . . . Sahara," the youngest sister said, her voice quivering in fear.
Plato glared at her. " . . . Treat your kingdom well . . . or the Eye will choose someone else."
Two months passed by more slowly. Ever since Plato announced that if a dragon wishes to become queen, and that they must battle to the death, almost every child of the queen and king turned against their parents, demanding that they deserve to be the next monarch. They fought, they killed, and either the dragonet died, or the parents died. Some enjoyed the battles, others never asked for it to be this way. It was madness throughout Pyrrhia, each saying that their tribe was better than the rest. That claim led to conflict, and just as every queen from every tribe met to settle the dispute in the Sky Kingdom, Plato landed in between them.
"What is this all about?" The hybrid demanded.
"Only one monarch must rule," said Queen Eartha of the SilkWings. "You said it yourself, a dragon must fight the queen for her to become one."
"Yet there is only one tribe that is greater than the rest," said Queen Shadowlurker of the NightWings.
"Whoever said that?" Plato asked, glaring at her.
"Only one tribe is greater than the other," said Queen Eira of the IceWings. "There should be one tribe that is superior to the others."
"No, this doesn't have to end in a battle," Queen Azalea of the MudWings said.
"I believe it does," said Queen Flora of the LeafWings, "and if you surrender now, your pathetic tribe won't have to die."
"Enough!" Plato roared. "If you all believe that you are superior to the other, then perhaps this pitiful argument does not have to end in bloodshed," he slowly turned, " . . . but exile instead."
He was staring at the queens of the SilkWings and LeafWings. They looked up at him in shock, then exchanged glances.
"Plato!" Queen Aethra said. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to keep the peace," replied the RainWing NightWing hybrid through gritted teeth, "isn't that what we all want?"
"Y-You can't do that," said Queen Flora.
"We should take a moment to talk about this, can't we?" Asked Queen Eartha.
"Your tribes are in the way of other kingdoms," growled Plato, "and you make their tribes weak. You don't belong here anymore. You crowd our home and always have. Take your residents, all your citizens, and leave, our, home."
"Plato," said Aethra, "you can't do this."
"When did you get so soft? I thought you were supposed to be the one who led us in the Scorching. Why are you acting this way? Are you weak now? Or is it because since Nostradamus died, you made yourself feeble?"
Aethra was taken aback, not believing what her friend had said.
"Where would we go?" Queen Flora asked.
"How will we survive?" Questioned Queen Eartha.
"Somewhere outside of the ocean," Plato growled. "You will survive . . . and you will not return. Leave our home . . . you never belonged here."
There were no doubts, no second thoughts, or objections to the claim. Plato had the entire LeafWing and SilkWing tribe stand on a large beach, who stared out into the ocean. The queens looked back at the hybrid, but he only gave them glares. He held something in his hands.
He walked up to Queen Flora, and said: "It is tradition in your tribe that if someone wishes you good fortune, they would give you a plant. If bad, a dead one. Take it . . . and leave."
The plant was nothing but shredding, dying vines hanging down from the pot. Reluctantly, Queen Flora took it. With sorrow in their eyes, they turned, and flew off. All the dragons of Pyrrhia did not leave that beach until the LeafWings and SilkWings were out of sight.
As Plato watched them leave, he smirked.
"Why did you do that?" Aethra growled.
"They'll find a home," Plato said, not even looking at her. "There's bound to be another island out there . . . somewhere."
"I thought you were a hero to these dragons. I thought you were my friend."
"I was, until you thought I was the one who killed Nostradamus."
"Everyone has already forgotten about that, and I never accused you of any of it."
"You know, Aethra, I thought you were the first queen, and I remember announcing that you should be the queen. Now . . . I doubt myself. Maybe one of your subjects should have killed you sooner."
Aethra's face dropped as she watched her friend leave, then all of the dragons as well, just as the sun set, and the night along with stars filled the sky. She looked at her hands, her entire body, at all the cuts and wounds she had endured whenever she spoke to the Lord of Flies, or did something under its name. She knew the consequences now, and it was already too late.
Maybe she could make it right. Maybe she could do something to end the cloaked dragon's terrible, secret reign. . . . She will end it.
