After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only half an hour, Ebony saw sunlight shining onto the slope ahead. Joy bubbled up in his heart like a spring, and he breathed a thankful prayer. He had made it. He emerged out into the heat, renewed, refreshed. Ebony turned back to the gennyid waiting in the tunnel. "My thanks to you, my friend." He bowed deeply.

It squeaked gently at him, and then crawled back inside its tunnel. He watched it go. "Farewell, friend worm." With that, he lept into the sky and flew on towards the edge of the sands. He knew it was close. Ebony ground his fangs together. Hopefully, Dertharion was also close.

..........................................................................

Dertharion scuffed his claw against the ground nervously. He stood before the high wooden wall of the village Zendrayus spoke of. Alone. The Plaguehide had taken off, claiming - probably correctly - that the villagers wouldn't let him in. The Green lashed his tail in agitation. What if the villagers were aggressive? Angry? What if they stole the ember? Zendrayus had assured him that this village was extremely law-abiding and friendly, but was he really willing to trust the White?

With a sigh, the Poisonhide knocked on the thick door neatly jointed into the wall. The White had saved his life. Would he really save it just to endanger it immediately? Of course not. At least, Dertharion hoped not.

There was scuffling at the gate, and it opened wide. An dragon with orange-yellow scales poked his head out, saw Dertharion, and exclaimed, "Why hello, traveler!!"

A Mindhide??? The Green stared in horror. The clan of yellow dragons were renowned for their emotional manipulation abilities. They were mostly shunned by the other clans, who distrusted and feared them. However, sometimes they appeared in advisor or emissary roles to dragons in high positions.

Detharion fumbled for a reply, his throat closing up in fear. Was he already being influenced???