The Hall of the Supreme Dragon Court was silent. Inside the grand hall, with a ceiling that towered above—a dome of obsidian glass etched with runes only the First Dragons could read—eight thrones circled a central platform, each throne bearing the symbol of an element:
Fire, frost, lightning, shadow, wind, water, earth, and light.
Now, seven of those thrones were occupied.
The final one—empty.
That of Zhun'var, the Supreme Elder of Frost.
The others waited in silence.
Among them, of course, was the frost dragon who had arrived much earlier than he would have liked. Even though the others weren't paying any attention to him, he felt nervous and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
They waited only a moment longer before the great stone doors opened.
A radiant light swept through the chamber.
Then footsteps—slow, heavy, and purposeful—resonated through the hall. Instinctively, everyone's eyes snapped toward that direction.
