Denair landed, exhausted from his flight.  He was high in the mountains.  That was all he knew.  Had the dragens won the war?  Was it over?  Were they still fighting?  Where would he go now?

 His mother had been a light dragen; his father a wind dragen.  He had gifts from both but had been raised in his father’s homeland.  Did that mean his mother’s family hated him?  There were some that didn’t like mixing the races.  With his parents gone who’s family would he go to?

 He’d seen dragens in the caverns.  Most were slaves like he was.  Some had gotten to the point where they were practically pets to their masters.  Following almost eagerly, like a dog.  Some were like him, caged and forced to submit.  There was the occasional dragen the demons treated as equals, selling them slaves or eggs to feed on.  That worried him the most.  Did that mean that the dragens had lost the war?  Were all dragens slaves or complicit in enslaving others?

 He felt hot tears prick his eyes as he gazed down at the caverns.  It was obvious, even from this distance that it was the caverns of a band of dragens.  The only way he could get the answers to his questions was to ask directly.  His wings flexed and he lifted off once more.  Tears ran down his face as he flew onward, hoping… though he couldn’t say what for.