The wind rushes by my ears as we drop like a stone towards the waters far below. Desperately, I try to think. Is there anything I know– any spells, any tricks, anything!

I draw a blank. The wind yanks at my hair and clothes as I can only watch the white capped waves draw closer. Closer. Desperately I cling to my sword, which is still stuck in the dragon's neck. I knew my stupid decisions would get me killed one day, but I’d hoped it would be some time far off in the future! Not right now! I can almost taste the salty spray, when suddenly we are jerked to a stop.

My chin hits the pommel of my sword. Briefly, I see stars, and then nothing.

When I wake up again, we’re landing. The dragon I’m riding has passed out. It’s dark now. Other winged beasts, just shadows in the fading light that look vaguely like dragons, lay us gently on a stone floor of a cavern. I blink, trying to adjust my eyes, and moving my swollen tongue around in my mouth.

Good news, I’m probably still alive. Judging by the taste of blood in my mouth and my aching muscles.

Bad news, I have no clue where I am, and I doubt anyone else does either.

“That's it?” A familiar voice rumbles disappointedly. It is deep, almost soothingly so, but my fuzzy head can’t quite place it. “You lost that many trying to take one puny Outpost? What are you, Dragons or Wyverns?” There is a snort of derision as one of the dragons carrying me chortles a reply. I can’t understand it though. Vague thumps, a few snarls and the occasional chirruped exclamation. A few large flaps, a gust of wind as some leave.

“Well, at least you fools remembered to bring back the wounded…” The deep voice mutters, and I see a pair of glowing red eyes flicker towards me in the darkness. “Let’s see. Who’s salvageable here…” The voice trails off and then there is a brilliant spark of flames. Red, gold, blue, and even green flames light up the huge cavern I’m in. I’m blinded for a few seconds. I stumble off my dragon, letting go of my sword. My eyes quickly adjust though, just in time for a larger dragon with bronze and copper scaling to lower his head to sniff at the dragon I just vacated.

Sighing he shakes his head at the other dragons, a lilac and a silver, who glance at each other nervously. “Idiots,” he mumbles, although I’m certain anyone nearby could have heard that. Raising his voice to a more normal pitch for a dragon– although it sets my poor head a-pounding– Smayhellionthostvalleysonknoll announces “This one’s useless, even if he does recover, he’ll be paralyzed for the rest of his life. He’s a waste of resources. Better to have let him die in the endless waters than bring him back here.”

My dragon turns watery blue eyes to Smay, who stares back with his red ones coldly. Leaning down, he takes the end of the long skinny neck carefully in his jaws, and breaks it cleanly. The life leaves the other dragon's eyes, and I stare at him horrified.

This isn’t like Smay at all. His eyes were green, not red. And he was supposed to be back home. Not trapped in the mountains, just unable to fit through any doors anymore. And now he’s out here, waging war, killing other dragons, and apparently ordering them around! “Smay?” I croak out, my voice hoarse and quiet. I’m actually surprised when his head jolts up, and those uncanny red eyes search me out.

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“Briareth!” He exclaims, grinning with teeth still dripping blood. “What on earth are you doing here? Did you come to help us out? Goodness, it’s been so long. We have so much to talk about.”

“Yes, we most certainly do.” I agree weakly, watching the dead dragon's blood dribble from his mouth onto the floor. “Have you grown, Smay?” I don’t remember him being nearly as large as these dragons, much less larger. But it has been almost a decade…

“Oh yes!” Smay says happily. “Once I got out from under that claustrophobic mountain I started growing like crazy. I shed three skins in the past month. Three! But, come now, you sound quite weak. Would you like something to eat? Or drink perhaps? You’ll have to tell me how you got here. I’m sure you have quite the story.”

“Yes.” I reply, “Quite the story.” I grin at him, determined that if he’s going to pretend everything is fine and dandy, I will too. I won’t mention the red eyes or sudden bloodthirst. I’ll just pretend that it's the me and him from a decade ago talking, and get all the information out of him that I can.

“Go on.” Smay says to the lilac and silver dragons, who are stalking around restlessly. “Shoo! Go back to your dens! Go cauterize your wounds or something!” He waves his forclaws and tail at them in a clear ‘go away!’ gesture. They blink at him stupidly. He sighs, clearly fed up with them. “You may want to cover your ears.” He says to me out of the side of his mouth. Curiously, I comply.

Then he roars. And I mean ROARS. It’s so loud that it seems to shake the whole cavern, echoing off the ceiling thousands of feet above, and shaking the ground beneath me. My legs crumple. Black starts to invade my vision. But it’s done just as abruptly as it started. I blink and find myself cowering in a pile on the floor. Quickly I get back to my feet, head still ringing with the echoes of that all encompassing sound.

“I tell you, they never listen when I ask nicely.” Smay says sourly as he watches the lilac and silver dragons retreat out of a hole high in the wall. “It’s all blank gazes and confused scrambling if they think to do anything. Honestly, it’s like they don’t have one brain between any of them. They’re practically impossible to work with!” He shakes his head in disgust. “If we weren’t related, I don’t think I’d waste my time helping them.”

“Wait, you’re related?” I ask, astonished, and scrambling to keep up as Smay starts moving down the long hallway. “But you’re so…” I trail off. I was going to say ‘different’ but really, this violent ‘let’s kill those who would waste our resources’ Smay isn’t that much different from these ‘lets wage war on all these people for no apparent reason’ dragons.

“Smart? I know. It’s hard for me to see it too. They’re dumber than pseudodragons after all!” Smay says with a bitter laugh. His steps are so long, it’s difficult for me to keep up with his pace. “But they’re the right size. I remember an age when true thunders of dragons still flew the skies, and these are the closest I’ve ever met.” His gaze still glued towards the hole where the other dragons left. “Well, besides myself of course. If I had to guess, we’re cousins of a sort. They just lost most of their intelligence. I don’t know how. Perhaps it was bred out, or perhaps they’re all that remained after the intelligent ones were wiped out. Maybe it was some malicious spell that slowly robbed them of their minds. Whatever the cause, this is how I found them. And I couldn’t just leave them like this, striking towns only to be driven back and slaughtered like mindless beasts. They needed a leader. A tactician. Someone to make them all work together and achieve victory over those jerks in the flying boats.”