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The room was dimly lit, full, and humid with the breath of tens of dragons crowded in it with the cold stone walls sweating with the condensation of their combined exhales. All of these tens of dragons wore the same iron mask with the symbol painted in blood on their foreheads and their eyes obscured by the shadows cast. There was an eerie stillness among the crowd, a combined silence.
In the end of the cave opposite to the entrance, the five dragons remained chained, their sweat and blood dripped down their scales as their limp forms dangled exhausted. A dragon approached them, his mask was bathed in gold and had a different symbol on it, he wore dark robes that were all intricately decorated with silver patterns as bright as the stars. He got closer, staying among the five dragonets, he started to speak.
“Brothers of the order, the day of our reward has come to fruition! At last, the prophecy has been fulfilled as foretold!” he then gestured at the dragonets, all of them too beaten to respond or resist, even so the Seawing gritted her teeth slightly. “And by this blood and flesh given to us, we shall make due of his will!”
The crowd silently bowed their heads as another dragon with a red mask painted in blood, she didn’t wear any robes, letting her obsidian black scales exposed for all to see. She moved through the dragons as they opened passage. In her hands she carried an egg that was pitch black and showed cracks on the surface. This wasn’t one that was near hatching, the dragonet inside likely died before breaking through the shell, the putrid smell filled the room.
The Nightwing left the egg on the strange pedestal in the middle of the five dragonets, it was a strange stone piece with a hallow inside, like some sort of caldron or sink, just big enough so the egg could be fully submerged when it was filled. The Nightwing took a deep, hesitant breath.
“This shall be its body,
flesh of my flesh,
blood of my blood, born in the night
rotten and gone,
ready to welcome his spirit” she sang in a sorrowful tone.
The crowd sang:
“Welcome her sacrifice,
Welcome our offer
May her flesh and blood become yours.”
There was a moment of silence and hesitance and the Nightwing started to cry, tears rolling down her face and splashing on the ground. “Please forgive me three moons….” She begged, the dragon who was leading the ceremony grabbed her heard firmly and pulled her, even if she tried to fight back he out powered her greatly. He held her throat over the pedestal and with swift slash of his claws, opened her neck, letting the blood pour onto it.
The director sang as the dragon bled out:
“This is the blood by which you’ll be reborn,
This is the offer we make in your name.”
The body fell, the egg submerged in fresh and warm blood, the five dragonets tried to fight but they knew what was coming, the dragon then approached the Mudwing. “Here are the scales of the earth, may their strength and resilience pass onto you!” he proclaimed and with a slow and agonizing process, began to cut and tear off the Mudwing’s membranes from his wings.
As he cried and begged, the ceremony proceeded anyways, the scales were put inside the caldron where the blood seemed to absorb them. The dragon then went on to the Seawing, an assistant with a bright silver mask handed him a dagger made from a narwhal horn.
“Royal blood, for you are the one and true king, may the heritage of this dragon dignify your position as the greatest to walk this earth.” The dragon then carved the dagger on the Seawing’s heart, letting the blood cover the weapon and his wrist, then abruptly taking it out and throwing it in the pedestal as well.
The dragon that lead the ceremony skipped the small Sandwing, going for the Rainwing instead, who was completely blacked out and presumably sedated. The leader opened her jaws and ripped out both fangs, bare-handed and without hesitation. “The greatest weapon in all of Pyrrhia, is now yours to use and command.”
The dragon then proceeded to the Nightwing, who was completely paralyzed in fear even if awake, the crowd was silent but all were ecstatic. The Nightwing cried, trying to keep distance between him and the claws of the dragon that drew closer to his eyes. “Morrowseer, please!” the dragonet begged.
“I… I don’t want this! There has to be another Nightwing!” Starflight begged, gripping Morrowseer’s talons as he put them over his eyes, ignoring his pleas.
“The eyes of a pureblood Nightwing, may they restore your foresight…” Morrowseer said as he plundged his claws into Starflight’s sockets, clawing out his eyeballs and putting them in the pedestal with the rest. He then turned his attention to Sunny, unchaining her and placing her head over the pedestal much like he did with the Nightwing before.
“And lastly, as the night reaches its zenith…” he looked up through a small opening in the cave, confirming the three rising moons marking almost midnight. “The son of an animus, born in sin and in secrecy and killed in your name.”
With that, the last blood of the night was spilled, Sunny’s throat was slashed open and her head was pulled back to speed the bleeding, lastly, Morrowseer put her body in the pool of blood, the previously shallow pedestal now seemed to absorb all that was thrown inside. As the body slowly sank, the symbols on the masks took effect and all dragons, including Morrowseer, began to scream.
The masks heated up like the fires of hell, burning their skin and sticking to their flesh as the pedestal shattered in an explosion of blood as everyone who wore the mask fell into a painful and eternal slumber. The creature that emerged from the blood was small, twisted and appeared frail. Only Clay was left to witness it, Starflight couldn’t see any more due to obvious reasons. The Dragonet had prominent fangs, the eyes of Starflight and thick scales with patterns of silver and red across its body.
“And so… the king returns to his palace…”