Seranil listened to the hum of voices around him.  The other elders were trying to figure out what was happening.  Who had killed the elders of the One and Other Clans?  Who had killed his own sub-elder?  The fact that all three high ranking dragens had been killed by the same party or parties was a foregone conclusion.  The murders had all be perpetrated in the same singular manner.

 He shifted his wings and looked over at Zarentil.  The other elder looked excited – or perhaps anxious.  He’d been the murderer after all.  If the others figured that out he’d be in trouble.  Seranil rolled his eyes and let his boredom show.  He was surrounded by fools who were too self-absorbed to see the bigger picture.

 When he thought about the time he’d wasted as his father’s heir it made him want to gnash his teeth in frustration.  For far too long the dragens had been ruled by a weak council of elders.  They needed a strong leader.  Someone who could rule all the dragen clans with an iron fist.  He was that dragen.  It was only a matter of time until he was chosen as Eldest.  He only had to get to the old fool.  Then all the years spent treating idiots as his equals would be repaid a hundred fold.

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