News of a dragon's death doesn't spread by rumor.
It echoes through the world itself. Mountains tremble, rivers shiver, skies ripple. The aura of a great beast vanishing is a wound in reality, and every dragon feels it.
This time, two such wounds opened too close together. First, the White Dragon. Then, the Dark Fire Dragon.
Seven minds stirred at once.
They were the Seven Great Dragon Tamers — the strongest in the world. Not heroes. Not villains. Just people who loved power and refused to let anyone stand above them. Each commanded a dragon beyond imagination, and through their bond, they all felt the same thing: two powerful auras gone.
Not theirs. Not any of the Seven.
Still, it was strange. White and Dark Fire might not have been apexes like their own beasts, but they were still "tier two" dragons — feared, destructive, strong enough to wipe out kingdoms. For two of them to vanish so close together… unusual. Dangerous.
—
Their dragons raised their heads to the change.
In the high skies, Tempest, a storm dragon, coiled through clouds, lightning sparking across its wings.
In the mountains, Stonejaw, an earth dragon the size of a fortress, rumbled like a moving cliff.
Beneath the reefs, Seawing, a leviathan of tide and salt, broke the waves with a pearl-scaled back.
At the volcano's rim, Flarefang, fire leaking from his hide, clawed the ground awake.
From the city shadows, Nightshade, a sleek dragon feathered in darkness, spread her wings across rooftops.
Above the deserts, Sunscale, radiant and blinding, bent light until the horizon shimmered.
And in the storm plains, Thundermaw, massive and scarred, rolled thunder across the earth.
Seven dragons. Seven tamers. Seven rulers in all but name.
—
Through their bonds, the tamers gathered in a shared vision, a circle stitched together by dragon-breath. Not a place of stone or wood, but a mental hall only they could enter.
Vera of the Storm Heights, tamer of Tempest, broke the silence first. Her cloak snapped in the imagined wind. "Two falls in one season. White first, now Dark Fire. Both gone."
Kael of the Obsidian School, with Stonejaw behind him like a living wall, frowned. "Not one of us. The leylines are clear. But the tremor is too loud to ignore."
Saphira of the Deep Reefs, feeding scraps of eel to Seawing, laughed lightly. "Two second-tier sovereigns dead. And I didn't even have to move. How convenient."
Nyra of the Dusk City, pale fingers resting on Nightshade's shadowy feathers, tilted her head. "Convenient, yes. But too fast. Too clean. Accidents don't come in pairs."
Rashan of the Ember Marches, firelight flickering across his scarred face as Flarefang's heat burned behind him, rolled a coal in his palm. "Accidents or not, corpses leave power behind. Power draws hands. Hands start wars."
Lira of the Crystal Spire, eyes glowing with reflected prisms from Sunscale's light, spoke softly. "Two voids open so close, the balance shifts. Shapes are forming in the pattern."
Joren of the Thunder Plains, leaning casually against Thundermaw's jaw, grinned. "Whatever it is, I just hope it's fun."
None of them called it tragedy. To the Seven, the death of a dragon was weather — dangerous, yes, but also opportunity.
—
Lira gestured, and a prism of light formed between them, replaying the faint traces she had gathered.
The White Dragon's fall appeared first: a shockwave from the sky, a plunge, a death like a hammer from above.
"A miracle," Nyra murmured. "The sky itself laughed."
"Or the White was careless," Vera said flatly. "Either way, not worth mourning."
The vision shifted. Ember Lake, black with smoke. The Dark Fire Dragon thrashing in molten fury. A man with a sword. A beast shaped like a tiger. And — impossibly — a small fish darting through the flames.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Joren burst out laughing. "A koi?! Don't insult me. Tell me this is a jest."
"It's what the lake remembers," Lira replied calmly. "A koi. Small, ordinary. Its bite marks matched."
Saphira clapped her hands together, delighted. "Oh, how I love this world. A koi, swimming in dragon fire. Absurd!"
Rashan snorted. "Soup fish, nothing more."
Kael folded his arms. "An illusion. Someone tampered with the memory. A koi cannot slay a Dark Fire."
"Yet two deaths happened," Nyra whispered. Nightshade's feathers shifted, restless. "And both memories point to the same truth. Luck or not, the rhythm is wrong. The world is stirring."
Vera's storm-braided hair whipped in the imagined wind. "Tier-two dragons are not the Seven. But still, two deaths this close together… Something is moving."
Rashan's coal glowed red in his palm. "And movements create opportunities."
Joren leaned forward, grin sharp. "Or sport. Hunt the miracle. See if it squeaks when we squeeze."
They laughed, one after another. None of them were afraid. None of them gave the koi more than a passing thought.
"Luck," Kael dismissed. "A joke of fate. Nothing more."
"It will vanish soon enough," Vera agreed. "The world does not allow such mistakes to live long."
Saphira smirked, stroking Seawing's scaled jaw. "Extinction comes quickly to things that don't belong. And a koi in the dragon's world?" She chuckled. "That's the smallest mismatch I've ever heard."
The laughter of the Seven filled the dragon hall.
And far away, deep in the river, a weak koi with a brand-new skill clenched his body tight and vowed he would prove them wrong.