Chapter Text
Coordinates 4.8998e7+-209e3 / 28 58’ 39” / 57e3 Sol-Relative*
5034 AS, 3078 C.E.**
“Hail, Queen Ruby, Empress of the Sky, High Overlord of the Claws of the Clouds,” an orange-red Skywing dragon proclaimed, as another, larger, redder dragon came in for a landing, crashing against the wooden platform upon which the herald stood; a reception of fifty or so black and rainbow dragons stood opposite; most of the black dragons were well-armed with swords or spears and had silver scales beneath their wings; the rainbow dragons were seemingly unarmed for the most part, a few carried what appeared to be reeds and a few others had leaf-pouches hanging from their bodies. Overhead, two dozen orange and red dragons hovered, also well-armed.
“How nice of you to join us, Ruby,” one of the brightly-colored Rainwings said; her scales were a bright gold, shot through with streaks of violet.
“Glory, it’s good to see you. And you, Deathbringer,” she said, turning to a black dragon who had seemed to appear from nowhere beside Glory.
“And you as well,” Glory said, touching her wingtip to Ruby’s as the three began to walk back towards the main gathering. “Come, we’ve got much to talk about. Coral and Snowfall will be joining us soon, so I’d prefer to bring you all up to speed at once.”
“And what of Thorn and Moorhen?”
“They couldn’t make it on such short notice. They’re both managing crises at the moment, the secessionists in the northern Mud Kingdom and the hurricane last week that hit the desert. Our messengers are still en-route to Hazel, Cricket, and the Silkwing assembly.”
“I still can’t believe that timid dragonet took power over the entirety of the Hivewings so handily,” Ruby said. “Although, I do think she makes a good queen. Wise beyond her years, and all that,” she said; Glory chuckled.
“That she is.”
There was a loud roar behind them, and the two Queens turned to see a dozen Icewings swooping down on the edge of the forest, towards their platform; all but two peeled off and began to hover with the Skywings as two, highly bejeweled, white-and-light-blue dragons rocketed forward and expertly slowed at the last second, landing almost soundlessly.
“Snowfall, I’m glad you made it,” Glory said, as Snowfall and the other icewing walked closer to them.
“I got your letter, it sounded urgent. Of course I came,” Snowfall said, a tinge of something in her icy voice–fondness, perhaps.
“Good to see you as well, Lynx,” Ruby said, nodding towards the other icewing.
“What’s the matter?” Snowfall asked.
“A prophecy,” Glory said. “And a warning. I think it’s best if we wait for Coral for that, though.”
Snowfall nodded, and the three fell into an uneasy rhythm of conversation, catching up on events in each-other’s lives. They were closer than the past queens of their tribes, perhaps because of the war, perhaps because they were all so young when they took their respective thrones. Perhaps simply because they had all been striving for the same things for the past twenty-odd years. There hadn’t been so much as a border skirmish between the Sky, Sea, Ice, and Rain kingdoms in years; there were practically open borders around most of the continent. Coral arrived a while after, attended by an entourage of ten dragons; by now the hovering Icewings and Skywings had landed on other platforms, helpfully guided by Rainwings flaring bright colors. The Seawings–and one Skywing, likely a straggler from Ruby’s delegation–split off to land on other platforms, Coral came all-but crashing down atop them, great wings flaring to decelerate then folding in as she nodded.
“Welcome, Queen Coral,” Glory said, approaching her. “The pavilion has been set up for our council, and I instructed Moonwatcher to meet us there. I trust you know the way?”
“Yes, I do.” Coral’s smile was fond, but concerned. “What is the issue worth bringing us all here, with no notice?”
“A prophecy… And a warning,” Glory said, ambiguously. The Nightwing aura of drama seemed to be rubbing off on her. “We should go, before it gets dark. The pavilion is well-lit, but the route is not.”
Coral nodded. “Very well.”
Glory launched off, Coral following, the other two Queens launched behind them, they drifted quickly through gaps in the trees the four had memorized years ago. It was not a long distance before they landed again, on a relatively recently-built platform, sticking out from a pavilion several hundred tails across, easily large enough to serve as a palace, but not built as such; the Rainforest didn’t have a palace. The wood they landed on was worn, but not as much so as the landing platforms; a storm damaged the pavilion several years prior and they had needed replacement. There was a massive tree made of ice growing below; its top branches brushed the underside of the hexagonal structure; glowing fruit hung from its’ branches, and more of them were visible across the building. Glittering gemstones hung from the ceiling of the entry-room, in a spiral arrangement around an unusually powerful glow-globe. A procession of their guards followed, three or four dozen dragons altogether, bright in the falling sun.
“I like the, ah, what was it called? The chandelier,” Lynx said, in a hushed tone, to Snowfall.
“Indeed. It’s quite beautiful, the Rainwings know how to decorate,” Snowfall said. “It’s far too warm in here, though.”
Glory snorted, apparently overhearing their conversation, but didn’t comment on it as they stepped through an open archway into the council chamber. There were nine thrones, in a circle, each made of a different material; one was a mixture of a darkly-colored wood; Glory’s, the one beside it made of glittering quartz covered in a thin layer of condensation and ice; obviously Snowfall’s, sustained by a contraption installed below; there was one made of sandstone with gold accents, the Sandwing throne; another of coral decorated with pearls; that was the aptly named Queen Coral’s; one was made of a live growth from the tree the structure was built into–Hazel’s throne; yet another resembled a hammock more than a chair, made of silk and edged with bright amber silk–the Silkwing ambassador, or President’s, depending on the urgency; the last was a metallic mess, worn from worry and scratched by anxious movements and impalement with a dragon’s spikes and anxious movements–Cricket’s.
The four Queens in attendance took their seats quickly, with the exception of Glory, who took her seat more slowly. Snowfall sighed as she melted into the cold, Lynx idled close by, head resting on the side of the throne.
“So, now it is time to reveal why you’re all here,” Glory said, clapping her hands together before signaling a Rainwing attendant to exit the chamber and bring something back. “It’s another prophecy, Moonwatcher predicted it this time, so I’d say it’s most likely accurate.”
“What was it?” Snowfall asked, concerned.
“I believe I should leave that to-Ah, there you are, Moon,” Glory said, gesturing towards the entry-arch, where Moonwatcher–a nightwing, black scales dotted with silver stars, looked out at them grimly.
“This one isn’t good, I don’t think,” she said, approaching the table. “Are you sure Lynx should hear this, your Majesty?” Moon asked, looking at Snowfall.
“Of course. Whatever I know, she can know,” Snowfall said, looking at Lynx fondly; Lynx bumped her snout into Snowfall’s.
“Alright,” Moon said, exhaling, closing her eyes. And then they snapped open, inky black, and she began to speak in a voice not entirely of this plane of existence.
“Beware the eye greatest of them all,
Beware the man of war,
Something sees all,
A watcher looks from afar,
Beware he who knows what he does not tell,
Beware the cold, colder than any felt afore,
Seek the Watcher, find those who walk the skies,
Align with the darkness, but do not allow it to corrupt,
Seek that which knows all,
Seal it in an unmarked place,
Ascend to walk the stars,
Or silence shall fall
Seek out the suns twin,
Seek out the eight moons,
Find that which is the wrath of Time itself,
Or silence shall fall
Beware the blinding light,
Beware the deepest darkness more,
A secret hides in the stars,
Seek it, and all shall be yours,
Fail, and silence shall fall.”
There was a moment of silence, as everyone processed the ramifications. Snowfall was the first to speak, concerned and anxious, trying to bring levity to the situation: “Well, that’s not ominous at all.”