Dilapidated Entities

Epilogue

   The heir waited patiently at the doorstep of the castle, looking out for his mother. Though, he has started to give into his doubts. He turned to the guard beside him. "Are you sure she is coming back?" The heir asked. The guard gave a small glance to the young dragon, before looking out to the distance. "It's been a couple of days already.." The heir also looked out to the horizon. The guard sighed, eyes drooping down slightly. "I'm sorry, Prince Desteindre, but I'm not so sure that Her Majesty is returning from her battle," The guard finally responded after a few moments. The prince simply nodded, though sadness shone in his eyes. Desteindre had expected this. Queen Night hadn't even known he was still alive. Where was he after these short years? The dragon to the left of him was who had saved him in the first place.

   He was left in the middle of a forest by his father (whose name was not given to the prince) to die. It just so happened that a dragon had been taking a stroll around the area after a day he was settled there and was taken in. Desteindre was definitely an odd dragon, but he supposed that someone within his ancestors looked similar to him. The heir was half black half white, with glaring yellow eyes. Even his horns were both different colors. His caretaker placed a claw on his shoulder. "Come, lovely, it's cold out and she definitely isn't coming back soon," She explained, to which Desteindre only agreed with her. There was really no point in staying any longer for his now dead mother.

   Within the mountain to where Queen Night had disappeared, and abruptly killed herself for what she thought was necessary to protect her tribe, a body lay still. Night's body was slumped on the ground, a chain with a crane-shaped ending struck through her chest and out the back. Night was still somewhat conscious, half-lidded eyes gazing at the wound that would permanently leave a mark in her chest, even if she wasn't going to leave this place, it was something to think about other than her miserable death. Night had taken off her mask for once. Something she had never done ever since she was two. With a sigh, she grazed along the memory of how she got the mask.

   Her face was.. Injured beyond repair. And yet everything was somehow still normal for her. Her right eye had been ripped along with a major strip of her armor, and yet she could still see.

   It was to keep dragons from being scared of how she simply looked. It was a tradition, after all, for the royal dragons to take part in attempting to communicate with two gods from a very young age. One god would come to offer their signature item that represented them, so the young dragon could consume it and be able to speak with the entity through their minds. The other god is always the same god, Kiroon. The creator of their tribe. Made of the same liquid bleeding from Night's chest right now, and what every other dragon within her tribe was made of as well. This is what gave Night communication with the god of deception, Sirun, in the first place.

   Night's thoughts wandered once more, a similar topic, though not of which of her creator. Sirun often referred to Night as 'Nivun' instead of Night. Sirun had also done the same thing when mentioning Silver, switching between the names 'Silvun' and 'Silvas'. Though the names may be seen as nicknames to those outside of Night's tribe, any name ending with 'un' or 'oon' is seen as a god name, and is strictly forbidden to give children whomst are not gods these names. This is what confused Night, Sirun had mistaken her for a goddess, which is something surprisingly easy to mistake. Gods find other gods by their power source, and since Night's tribe is a being made straight from Kiroon's own liquid flesh, it was easy to mistake the tribe.

   With that small topic out of the way, Night raised her head slightly, looking out of the cave, the exit was a small dot from her view (and also extremely blurry), but she saw it. Night gripped onto the chain holding her in place, keeping the chain still so it couldn't hurt her more than it already did. Another painful sigh escaped her throat, and she slumped back down. Another decade, she promised herself, and I will visit my kingdom again.