#murvan

bro forgot to post 💀

Now, it appeared he was showing his true colours for all to see.  A full frontal approach against the force of the night dragon enclave, outnumbered and with dragons half the size and far less suited to aggressive combat.  The only true weapon the day dragons had in their arsenal was their destructive flame, and Segun was well aware that Firestorm, the day dragon involved in the ridiculous quest to maintain the status quo of oppression by the Oracle, had been getting more creative, and more vicious, with his flames.

Widewing would not suffer a day dragon’s mouth to get close enough to her to threaten her wings, and every night dragon who fell, regardless of their survival, to a burnt wing membrane, would be another death knell in the reputation of the day dragon enclave from that day onwards.

There was nothing brave, or honourable, about crippling another dragon without cause.  The day dragons were the aggressors in this case; Segun had issued no challenge nor invitation to them.  His enclave had come out in force to act as a barricade against the four dragons and their riders who would condemn them to another millennia or so of the Oracle’s iron fist and tight control over dragonkind.  True, they would have used aggression if needed, but Segun was confident that the four younglings would not have the confidence to try, when faced with such a barricade.

Shadow had been unmistakeable amongst the blue of the day dragons, and Segun could only scoff at Pell’s cowardice, and his betrayal of his own enclave.  Not only had he forced the issue with the night orb, events regretfully falling his way so that despite Knifetail’s sacrifice, and the subsequent loss of her rider – both loyal supporters that Segun missed – Pell had walked away triumphantly with the orb, but now he had fully thrown in his lot with the enclave that would happily see him and his dragon dead, if the opportunity arose.

Foolish boy.

Still, Segun had offered him chance after chance, and Pell had spurned him at every opportunity.  There were no more chances to be had, and while the death of another night dragon pained him, there could be no other fate for the boy.  Shadow was younger than Widewing, and not yet as strong, but Segun did not need to hear his dragon’s whispers in his mind to know that as the bonded pair matured, both would grow stronger.

It was what had happened to him and Widewing, after all.

Not that Segun intended on doing the work himself, of course.  While it could be argued that it was his duty, as the leader of the enclave, to deal with rogue troublemakers before they could become a true problem, killing another night dragon and her rider would paint him in a poor light.  It would be much, much better for one of the lower-ranking members of his circle to do the deed – someone expendable, if it came down to it.  Murvan would do, after falling so easily for the dusk dragonrider’s tricks.

After centuries together, he didn’t need to say anything for Widewing to recognise what he wanted, and he heard her pass on the instruction to the younger dragon.  She phrased it as an honour, of course, an opportunity to make up for his earlier error when it came to Pell’s escape from imprisonment, and in no time at all the agreement filtered back through to him.

They are honoured to be chosen for the task, she passed back to him, as Segun had known they would be.  Murvan and his dragon were, admittedly, not the brightest members of the enclave, but they were eager to please and good at following orders.  Segun would not need to concern himself with Pell and Shadow any longer.

True, Shadow was the stronger dragon, but she would not be fighting to kill, and that would be her downfall.

His own attention was better spent on Barnabas and Wiseheart, perhaps older than he and Widewing but far weaker in combat.  Not that Segun had any intention of being the one to directly engage with them, either.  He had many loyal followers who would delight at the opportunity to dispose of the infuriating day dragon duo once and for all, without dirtying his own hands or claws.

For now, though, he was content to let the day dragons make the first move.  Let them be the aggressors; it would make their defeat all the sweeter.