Indys spread her wings to full mass, riding the desert winds as a sultry desert mistress. Her Alabastar-Dracgon scaled-skin wantingly consuming the full moon's light, each caress of the moon sending a sensual pleasure up and down her spine. Even the moon appeared defenseless against the Alabastar, her draca possessed skin capturing and then launching the moonlight from it, stretching her bright luminous shadow coursing over the sands as an angel of vengeance.

She stared at her Dracgon arms in wonder, her scales and Dracgon skin were changing. Her Dracgon arms, running along the sides of her triceps had grown a viciously sharp, axe head looking blades. That was her only way of describing it, the thing had armored out in two spots just below her wrist bone and just about to the end of the elbow.

The keen blades reminding her of a glowing quarter moon, their sheen giving her the purest of reflections of her Dracgon face . The tip of the axe looking blade ran past her elbow, so when she bent her elbow, that razors edged blade made her elbow tip. It was something no one could explain, the only theory that the seemed plausible that the draca was transforming, molding and becoming her, the first female Dracgon.

It was another weapon, she was in the process of learning. She marveled in Known wonder, its blessings of the draca, and the Queens, of man once again ruling Nazra. Above even all that, she was now being draca and Alabastared altered, it was like being touched by the Known itself. Her Dracgon eyes glistened with tears.

She scanned the vast sands with her Dracgon eyes, the eternal sands doing just that, stretching for eternity as far as her enhanced eyes could see. What looked like a large caravan approached from afar, she had plenty of time to investigate them both, she banked right angling toward Rani Pilutes villa. Her nostrils flared, the scent of death, more rancid than the exploding bowels of a dying horse assaulted her.

She flinched involuntarily, the scent of the dead telling the tale of what had become of them. The smell fouling her senses the most, was the blood of the young, the blood of the innocent young, babies, toddlers...children, expectant mothers, fetuses, all dead, the sands drinking eagerly their lives blood. She'd flown over the villa on numerous occasions in the past, it was always a hive of activity, but now it sat silent, a corpse, rotting amidst the sands.

No oiled lamps, or torch light glistened or captured the sands as usual, tonight the place was an abandoned carcass. The sands forever blooded, Indys knew when she landed she would be upon cursed ground. The desert tribes all believing that places of mass murder had been visited by the Sands Reaper, Alngin's herald of death. Once declared blooded, the sands were forever avoided, to curse any who walked among them.

It was legend and lore, she really didn't believe in such a thing? Alngin, his Herald, it was all desert lore, to be Known, and to spend the after in the Endless Empire was every child's dream. Escaping damnation. A death of Forever Flames was a death that awaited all in the Scorch, at least that's what most believed. Why would a god put them to live in the burning sands? Why would the after be any better?  Alngin's kiln stoked the fears of the desert folk, but they still lived.

There's was a live life full and hard now, cause what comes next might just be worse. A dark outlook for sure, but the folks of the desert live hard and large, having a true appreciation of the day, and life's moments amidst the sands. They loved fierce, played fierce and fought fierce, the north was in for a bloody war, if the Queen could not broker peace.

The orbs of her family's Dracgon zipped about her as she flew, frenzied fits darting and dashing around her, the stubborn one still guarding her backside. She was getting to know herself even more with the deployment to the desert. The draca a force more accessible when in her Dracgon form, a force of unlimited potential. At least that is what it seemed to here, she was only just beginning to understand the mystic force endowed in her.

She sent three of the orbs, the three that would obey her to ground level, each firting about on their own seemingly. She took in the sights as they zipped about the compound, able to see everything at ground level, it was something she'd discovered only recently.

The orbs gave here complete three-hundred-sixty degree view of their locations, giving her views not even within her eyesight. She was just learning how to position them strategically, she could have a view to the entire battlefield. It rendered a sneak attack, or suckers punch useless against her, at least in Dracgon form.  She wondered if perhaps what she seen through the orbs was something like Ezra seen through the rackals eyes?

Controlling the orbs in her human form had been much more challenging, at the moment only able to control one of them while in that form. It was like the draca and Ababastar were directly connected in Dracgon form, but in her human form, she got in the way?

The Keetones rested, burrowed off in the distance, beneath the sand, but not in their usual tight cloisters, they were scattered amidst the sands, no longer under a herdsmans or Rani's shellman's watchful eyes. There were numerous dead Keetones strewn about the sand, their priceless, lifeless bodies, grotesquely discarded in large chomps and bits.

As she descended she could see bodies scattered throughout the compound, the bodies, bloated and blue beneath midnight's full glaring eye.

She landed with a graceful hiss as her serpentine Dracgon's body began weaving its way wistfully atop the sands, even more graceful than the ferocious Red Rattler, but much deadlier. She scoured the compound, sniffing, investigating, catch only the scent of death, and strong flames.

The flames were a mere whisper on the winds, barely perceptible, but it was there, the faint stench of, Forever Fire. She slithered about the grounds briskly, the macabre assortment of body parts sticking out of solid objects, a eerie reminder to what they'd once been.

The sands had blood splayed across them in thick globs of gore and innards. The size of the organs letting her know of a child, or babies passing, her guts roiling, tears streaking down her Albastar Dracgon cheeks. The tumbling sands came to a halt as she slid to a stop in front of the villa.

The essence and ecstasy of the Alabastar abated as she once again changed to her human form. Her eyes still tear filled looked at the large snake like trail she'd left upon the sands. In her Dracgon's wake were the blooded sands that had tickled and caressed her underbelly as she'd slithered about the sands.

Her knees shook, the first of her three orbs returned, disappearing with a bluish-white flash a moment before it appeared it'd hit her. The other two returned a breath or two after that. The last one left, the one that always flew behind her, she waited for it to fly at her and disappear. It hovered, staring at her, an Alabastar eyed pearl awaiting her next move.

"Suit yourself." She sniffled, wiping away the tears, she turned and walked up the steps and onto the patio, the head sized Alabastar orb followed.

It was a strange sensation to be walking and still be able to see behind herself, through the orbs 'eye'. She felt exhilaration, the draca was embracing her human self as well. Outside had been bad, but walking among the death here was too much to take.

The orbs 'eye' taking in every leg, arm, torso, head, every agonized convulsion and stare forever entrapped within the walls of this now cursed estate.

"Enough!" She yelled, the orb darting at her and disappearing with an Alabastar flash.

She leaned against a wall, to steady herself, the sensory overload of the orbs ghastly sights slowly fading from her mind's eye. She breathed in deeply, gathering herself.

"I've not the stomach for this." She said through sweat, and pursed lips. The sickening feeling in her gut, a rotting contempt she had no way of forgetting.

She opened her eyes, and with a shout stumbled back and fell down. A dead face of a serving woman, the right half encased in the sandstone, the left half staring at her in soulless horror. Only inches from her face as she'd opened her eyes. She fell within the dead grasp of arms and legs that protruded from the floor at distraught and distorted angles.

She rolled among the stiff, swollen, dead fingers and hands trying to entangle her blazing red hair. She grunted rolled and fought till clear of them, screaming, the tears for the lost filling her eyes once again.

"Get your shit together Anlace." She growled to herself.

The bloodied walls and bloating appendages beckoned here on, the scent of the Forever Fires stronger down the bow-men's hallway. Most of the bows and their quivers were still undisturbed, whatever had took them, had done so with the element of surprise.

She tiptoed through the dead hallway, the moonlight peeking through archers slits, casting a thousand ghostly shadows from the deaths within. She could feel the the spirits of the cold fingers licking at her legs, sending chills down her spine.

This was more death than she'd ever seen, making it worse was the wanton way which it was done. The horror of something this evil walking about Nazra was a fear all its own. The werewolves had uncovered a magic here in the desert, one in which they had little control over, it appeared. She wondered how the desert folk would respond to the werewolves once word of this slaughter was known?

A more perplexing thought was why would the wolves attack their own allies? That made no sense, none at all! So who was responsible for this? The north? The Queen?

Her stomach lurched in even greater fear.

What was happening?

She entered a large open room with an elaborate swinging chair, she figured this to be the place where the Rani would hold court. The nude, headless body of a woman was bound and bent over the swinging throne. As tears began to flow once more she walked softly among-st the dead Paladins, the marbled floors caked in blood and the contents once inside the living, meat and guts providing the moon a wet, shiny surface to dance its glow off from.

Whoever the woman had been, looked to have been raped like a dog, Indys untied the wrist of the corpse, a small reddened fang tattoo on the right wrist. She gently placed her down on the dais. Looking around she found a bloodied skirt to cover her as best she could.

"May all be Known." She whispered looking up at the Keetone egg-shelled ceiling, her breath suddenly coming in short and difficult gasp.

The head of a once beautiful woman was now a part of that elaborate ceiling, bloodied, only her face could be seen. The back of her head embedded in the ceiling, the head now a morbid fixture with the polished egg shells. The face's bloody visage positioned so it appeared that she was staring at the throne, watching as her body had been desecrated?

Indy's bent over heaving as she vomited the contents of her stomach on the dais. A cool wind from the desert breathed lightly on her neck, sending more chills shooting through her beneath the light Alabastar armor she now wore. She was covered in nervous sweat, her long ponytail the only thing left on her still dry.

Wiping her mouth she turned to look at the scorch marks on the wall, she sniffed the blackened wall, the scent of the Forever Fires lingered in its pours. It smelled of a Scalder? She leaned against the wall and slid down it, this room too, adding only more questions to her already troubled mind.

If a Scalder had ignited here, there'd be nothing left of the place. So what had happened? She pushed with her feet, using the wall as a brace she slid against it, to her feet. A shift in the desert winds brought a new scent, men. She looked at the woman's face staring at her from the ceiling one last time before sprinting through the villa.

As she ran down the bowmen's hallway she could see shadows and smell the men and war-tones.   She burst from beaded doorway of the villa, only to be surrounded by a troop of angry bowmen. Their arrows notched, drawn and pointing at her, she stopped counting after thirteen, at least three times that!

"You have defiled the sands with the blood and souls of the innocent witch!" Yelled one of the bowman.

Indys could hear muffled laughter.

"Shut that accursed thing up!" Yelled the bowman, arching his head towards the Paladins that were mounted behind him.

"I'm trying!" Came a frustrated reply, the laughter getting louder for a moment and then quieting to a barely audible, muffled laugh.

Indys reached for the 'knot' she had with Niko.  It wasn't a large caravan she'd seen while in the sky, it had been this ilk returning home...home to..this!

Indy's felt the sweat rolling down her back, as some of the bowman parted letting a very large, dark skinned man ride between them. The man wore a Qwarn, his face hidden, but she could read the malice in his eyes.

"I am Rani Gechem Pilute," his voice a shaking rage, barely controlled.

He was a large man, bulging with muscle, his size close to that of the towering General Gililion.

"I am Indys A..."

"I care not your name witch," he said through grinding, clenched teeth, "the sands will drink of your blood this night."

Indy's held up her empty hands, she reached for the draca, pulling just enough to form the four orbs. She could feel the pressure in her shoulders and lower back, they were becoming a part of her.

"The sands here have wept with the blood of your folk Rani, as have I. What has befallen them I cannot..."

"Enough!" Yelled Pilute, "I've proof of your northern treacheries."

Indys gave him a puzzled look, he nodded angrily thinking he'd caught her in a lie.

Indys could feel her muscles tightening, her nerves biting in anticipation. She'd never fought men before, at least not for real. All this time in the Scorch they'd been burning up or trying to thwart Scalders, there had been no fighting with the desert people themselves.

"Sand your weapons Rani," she said coolly, her voice a hiss, "These sands need not be blooded further."

The tan marbled war-tone the man rode huffed and snorted in anger, as if feeling its riders unease. Large spikes protruded from the beast back and tail, they were made of metal, somehow attached to make the beast even deadlier?

Pilute was barely containing his hurt and rage.

"The Rani Rule had been invoked," his voice a shakey pain as he pointed to the white flag flying above the villa, "you use our own customs against us, you come in the guise of peace and butcher the innocent."

She could feel where this was going, her palms began sweating profusely, slicking the sands as the sweat dripped.

"Sand your weapons Rani!" She ordered, almost pleading with him.

He tapped on the ugly war-tone he rode, two taps, its claws bit deeper into the sands, preparing to lunge.

'Niko?'

'Indys? Yes? What is it?' Came her Captains reply.

She could feel the orbs growing inside her, angry and hostile, fraying her nerves.

'War Niko! The war is here!'

Pilute and his war-tone lunged, as the bowmen unleashed their arrows.

Indys roared in Alabastared fury, the orbs ripping and tearing her flesh as they escaped in panicked flight. The draca licked and split the cooling night's air. Indys roared in mournful anger, not wanting this, but knowing she had no choice. The Alabastar lightning scattered the sand, Indys Anlace, Dracgon of Queen Reyna raged forth.

In the distance she could hear the faint Dracgon roars of Niko and Popper, her Braid. They were far away though, she would have to hold her own and hope they got to her in time. The orbs filled her vision with scenes of the battlefield, the draca consumed all of her fears.

Every muscle twitch, every sword drawn, every arrow notched now measured and weighed by their immediate threat. The lunging war-tone met the bad side of her tricep, the protruding armored blade severing the Rani's war-tone's head with one swift back swing of her Dracgon arm. She lunged at them ducking underneath and than rising, to shoulder both the Rani and his dead war-tone out of her way.

"DRACGON!" Screamed one of the Paladins.

Laughter!? Their it was again, an insane laughter?

Arrow pinged and tinged off of her Alabastar hide, three of the melon sized orbs began busting through mounted Paladin's keetone shells, the fourth, the one that always watched her back, flitted about her head. This orb, agitated, now darted around her head, redirecting any arrows headed towards her eyes.

Arrows splintered and exploded, raining down on her, as the blunt Alabastar ball smashed and destroyed them. The other Alabastar orbs spouting fire of their own, in short, lightning like burst, searing flesh and bone, and shells. The war-tones shells snapped and cracked with the orbs impact, their thick protective shells no match for the Alabastar and draca.

Beast and riders began to fall with every eye blink, Indys unleashing herself like she'd never done before. Her tail whipping and lashing out, taking down both Paladin and keetone with its powerful thrashings. Numerous splats of venom were flying towards her now, but with a the ease of one of her speeding orbs she twisted and turned, coiled and lunged avoiding all but a couple of them. Her Alabastar scales burned and hissed where the venom's hit her.

She had no time to feel the pain, as waves upon waves of Paladins rushed and lunged at her. Dracgon fire erupted from her gaping mouth, her eyes taking in the terrible sight of Alabastar fire consuming man flesh. She blinked, trying to get the blood out of her eyes, double vision from the blood of the dead and dying she'd shed, now filled the air in a fine moonlit red mist. Another roar, more Alabastar fire, the sands devouring, the sands consuming, the sands their grave.

Numerous heavy nets were now strewn in the air, Paladin's and war-tones racing around her, trying to ensnare her. Enraged Alabastar fire, and the whirring orbs punching holes and burning their nets as fast as they could cast them. Indys grasping at more of the draca,

Die!

They all must die!

She bit one of the Paladin's in half, spitting the half of him she had as a mouthful at two others, she fought for her life. Anguished cries and bellows from the war-tones pierced the desert air, the cries of the dying echoing across the sands. They were still attacking, none ran, they were hoping to overtake her with there sheer numbers.

She hacked, clawed, cut, and burned them, but they still came. Their bones and lives shattering with each orbs impact, bolts of Alabastar fire exploding and cooking their insides, the orbs alight within. Indys picked up another Paladin heaving him towards others that were rushing at her. 

With the moon still watching silently, Indys fought, tooth and nail for her life.