“Is it ready yet?” the large silver dragon hissed. Chains clinked in the darkness as the hulking shape shifted.

“Not yet, Mistress. A few more hours, at most.” The CaveDragon below the misty shape trembled as he drew runes all around the cuff of the chain.

“I want it to be ready now,” Zaerux snapped. Her giant tail lashed back and forth, longer than a mile. It barely had room to curl one way, then the other.

“I-I will try, Mistress.” The CaveDragon bowed his head submissively. What had he gotten himself into?

As if reading his mind, Zaerux remarked, “I am rather lucky that you stumbled upon me. If it weren't for you, I would have no hope of escaping these dratted chains.”

The CaveDragon merely nodded. Those jaws...they were big enough to eat twenty dragons in one bit. A single dragon did not stand a chance, and Zaerux knew it. So did the CaveDragon.

The CaveDragon’s name was Archer. He owed Zaerux his life. He had been dead, strewn across the stone plains of the SpineDragon Kingdom, forever left to rot. Zaerux had revived him, then called to him from in her cave prison. Archer had gone deeper into the Caves than any other dragon, flying all the way down the put to the tiny hole at the bottom that he had squeezed through to get to Zaerux.

Stolen story; please report.

“Hurry!” Zaerux snapped, making Archer flinch. Then her voice turned venomously sweet. “You do want your revenge, don’t you?”

Archer set his jaw. He nodded tersely.

Revenge. Revenge against the humans who had knocked him out of the sky and left him for dead. If it weren’t for them, he would still have his wonderful life in the CaveDragon palace.

Now, although he did not know it, he was a walking corpse. While Zaerux had given him life, she had done nothing to revive his scales. Most of them were burnt off. In some places, raw bone stuck out above the flesh. His breathing was ragged—a sharp, painful sound, although he did not feel any pain. His eyes were crazed and bloodshot, with a hint of insanity that signaled this dragon did not have his entire soul. Archer was surprised that his eyes looked mostly normal—he had expected a clear fil across them.. His talons were much sharper than they had been before, as were his teeth. Both were bloodstained.

He didn't know what he looked like. He was blind; the last thing he remembered seeing was the flash of lightning in his face. The lightning he had flown into because of the humans. All he knew was that he couldn’t return to the CaveDragon Kingdom. They would never accept a blind dragon, let alone an undead one. They would consider that a bad omen.

Zaerux had done some complex spells, however, and given him a different power of sight. He could sense things—how big they were, where they were located, and what gender something was. He could feel drafts in the air that would bring stormy weather, smell other dragons from a mile away, and had the power to do runes.

But his eyesight had been lost. Waving his claws in front of his eyes, Archer’s expression hardened with hatred.

They would pay. He would free his Mistress, then get his payback on them.

Revenge. Sweet revenge.