The black light swallowed Simon's vision.
When it cleared, he was standing on a ridge above a vast battlefield.
Armies filled the plain below. Rows of soldiers crowded behind enormous shields, while towers mounted on iron wheels moved between their formations. Banners snapped in a wind that carried smoke and the smell of burned flesh.
Simon looked upward.
A black True Dragon hung above them.
Its wings stretched across the sky, their shadows passing over thousands of soldiers at once. Long horns curved behind its head, and thick black scales covered its neck, chest, and the limbs drawn beneath its body.
Sunlight caught their edges as it turned.
Simon had seen Veyra's corpse.
Watching a living True Dragon move was something else entirely.
He had no idea who this one was. He didn't recognise the battlefield, the armies, or the symbols on their banners.
A horn sounded below.
The towers stopped moving.
