Steven sits on the hot sands of the Khar islands, his armor scuffed and dirty. Behind him, the City of Dragons Keep burns, raspy shouts of Irekei voices can be heard above the roar of the fires, echoing through the crumbling walls. Next to him sits Destynalia, her beautiful robe is torn and tattered, she rubs her hand over cuts and gashes on her arm from recent battles, clearing the sand from the open wounds. Steven raises his sweat drenched head to the sky, basking his face in the hot desert sun. Their home, the only home they have ever known has been taken from them. So many fond memories of his past were crumbling behind them. The relentless assault of the Shadowclan Irekei was more than could be handled, and now, the Irekei dig to uncover the Scale of the Dragon that was fought for so hard to protect. Steven turns his gaze toward Destynalia, her eyes filled with tears. Taking her hand, they stand and walk toward the runagates, to leave the desert lands, to leave the friendships they formed with close neighbors, and to leave the place they called home. ***A runner enters Khar, tacking a parchment on the Tree of Life*** Lord and Lady Dragonscale give our deepest heartfelt thank you to all the wonderful people we have come to know in these lands. We consider you friends and family, an important part of our lives. Though we were forced from you and you taken from us, we will miss seeing your faces in passing by, but you will remain in our hearts. Thank you |