The Dragon's Sign

Chapter 2

"Betrayal wounds deeper than any cut and scars the memories of many in it's wake." ~Xerinna, member of the Memory Scholars~

"Danger, despair, hope, and change. This I have sensed coming under sway," Michaco said, his orange eyes betraying nothing of the meaning behind the words as he surveyed the others.

Quejah had curled up in front if the others, her tail being too long for her to sit comfortably on her hutches like them. Zircon was the closest to the female, the male's ability to read the signs of the spirit world surpassing everyone else's. Jatherian had managed to cram himself next to the entrance of the cave, his focus only half centered on their meeting and the other near the other-worldly plains, where he hunted, restlessly, for any disturbances.

The last of the group stood on all fours, her short, lethal body outsized by the looming presence of her larger kin surrounding her. Sapheria held her neck with pride and dignity, proof of her place of holdance within the circle. A fool would have thought her an easy target. Ha, ironic how fast she could drag them into the past with absolutely no idea where they were.

"It doesn't sound good, especially since I felt Sazther not an hour ago with even graver news to share," he rumbled, drawing the attention he had expected from them.

"He's gone isn't he?" Zoron whispered, his tone hushed so as to not shake the walls with it's power.

"Yes," Michaco whispered, heaving a sigh as the stricken cries rang from the small group. He understood their pain, for Sazther was just as close a hatchmate as anyone could be.

He continued, "But there is time to pay our respects later, for even greater news comes from our fallen brother. War is under away with a death sentence for us."

The others gasped at the words their leader spoke, recoiling from it's message. How was it that this be true? Open war had not raged for many millennia; the result had been the very extinction of the elves and dwarves.

Few still lived that had seen those horrid times of grief and sorrow, for during their ambition's quest for dominance they had destroyed the world's peace of mind. A shiver ran down his spine at the very thought of those bloody nights and days filled with the screams of the dying.

"Yes," he continued," the time has come for us to take wings against the endless hordes of humans. It is time to show the defiance of our race. However, we shall not make the mistake your ancestors did; we shall not destroy the human race, but merrily prove that our race will prevail, no matter what the cost be."

"Before anyone else sees fit to speak their voice, I have another thing to say. Humans have made a weapon, one that we cannot heal by natural nor magical means."

Fear laced the usually cool and generally happy presence as the last chilly news faded into the somewhat far cavern's silence. A low growl erupted from Sapheria, surprising them into shock. The would have expected a sob, for Sazther had been her hatchmate, an oddity that had never occurred before in Seer history. Instead, her lips peeled back to show long gleaming teeth.

"I say we wait not! Avenge my brother so his death goes not without punishment!" she cried, looking around at her fellow Seers, her friends.

"Please Sapheria, calm yourself. Your brother will be given back the blood he has shed, as we shall do in time, but not without full support. I am afraid we are to be the ones to start this war, should we go into battle with the human king, Lucian," Zoron rumbled, sensing the building hysteria within her.

"You fear? You fear! My brother lies dead in some forsaken rock and you wish us not to avenge him because of fear! Rubbish I say!" And she slithered as fast as she could out into the hall, anger crackling around her.

"Should I go after her?" Quejah asked, furrowing her scaly-eyebrows in concern for her friend's state of mind.

"Might as well. It would probably help calm her down. Try to keep her from leaving though; for I have never seen her like this before," Michaco replied, true worry glittering in his eyes.

"Of course not! This is her family that died this time you lout!" she hissed, swiftly exiting after her grief-stricken friend.

A frustrated sigh rumbled from Michaco, the weight of the situation making their predicament graver than before. He wished he could tell the others that Sazther still lingered among them; not but a mere shadow in their midist, but still somewhat alive. But he had to allow the future without changing it's past. Or rather, effect the present and it's future. It grieved him that the wise councilor was trapped between worlds; waiting in vain for the end of the upcoming sadness that would plague their entire race. Yet hope resided with him.

"We cannot lose Sapheria my brother," Zoron said, getting up from his earlier position to crawl over to him.

"I know Zoron, but I cannot take back what has been done. Raging war in the haze of grieving fury would only worsen our current position," he replied.

A screech from the far cave entrance made his back spikes shiver. The disturbing scream was followed by a furious blood-curling roar. Leaping into their paws, the last of the council members slithered quickly across the limestone floor and headed in the direction of the battlecries. They soon tressed upon the familure twin paths that snaked from either side from their original passageway; giving them pause to think over which way the skirmish was coming from.

"I believe it's coming from the one in the right," Jatherian said, indicating the passageway with a claw. A frown creased between Machaco's scales as they quickened their pace.

Icy chills ran the length of his back as Michaco reached the battle ground. Anger swiftly overcame him as Sapheria launched herself at the purple dragon guard who was trying to keep her from leaving into the dark night that laid just behind him. Quejah laid crumbled on the ground, unmoving.

"Move your pathetic sack of scales!" she screeched, trying to walk his chest with her tail blades. He easily paried with his tail spikes; returning it with a hard thump to her head. Howling with fury, Sapheria opened her jaws and spurted fire at him.

The enferno engulfed him harmlessly, his scales shining brightly with their natural protective resistance. The others moved to intervene, but Sapheria had already seen them, and snapped her jaws closed. Eyes red with uncontrolled lusting rage, she bounded across the distance to the cliff and leaped to her freedom.

"What have you done, my sister?" Michaco whispered as four pairs of eyes watched Sapheria disappeared into the undercover of darkness. Heavy gloom fell upon them all as the council members turned away to inform their King and Queen of the now unavoidable danger.