Seven

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Moonwatcher

I jerk my talons away from my temples for the eight millionth time that day.

I exhale a wisp of smoke and shoot a small jet of fire at the nearest chicken, reaching for it. 

It waddles away with a singed wing feather, no doubt gloating. A small green-and-pink face appears in front of mine, startling me into dropping the chicken who would PAY FOR THIS.

"Hello. Hi, Moon. Queen Glory told me to bring more rainforest medicines. I also have more sleeping darts." Kinkajou says delightedly. I blink at her, and she adds that there were a lot of injuries here, she'd heard.

"Thanks," I say, taking the parakeet-green pouch. "These will help a lot."

As the leaves, I get the most splitting headache known to dragonkind since the Scorching and collapse into my hammock.

My voice flickers into not-my voice and my eyes roll back.

Oh, no, I have a chance to think before-

A virus will sweep

But new sleep

One will hatch in a fated batch

With powers that seemed lost.

Dragons crossed

With feathers new

And the wind has blew

And twenty are working to save.

A shockwave will shake the ground as an insane queen is crowned.

Far to the north

a sea of dragons will pour forth

fleeing terrible danger and

finding more.

I blink, and see a whole crowd of dragons has gathered. An IceWing with brown flecks and splotches pushes her way through the audience.

"Excuse me, but WHAT IN THE THREE ECLIPSES WAS THAT?!?" she demands. "If that was a prophecy, I'll grow three new heads."

"Oh dear," says a distant voice (Cryolite?) "That one seems a bit outdated. Everything there's been completed, Moon, except for the earthquake or whatever. Right?"

Ptarmigan flinches suddenly and tries to hide it in a loud sneeze-cough. Hope she doesn't know, she thinks.

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