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Prologue

Threonax, the great elder dragon was the last of the polychromatics.  She was in her prime when  the Living Gate first shimmered in the heavens.  Her wings stretched taught, iridescent chest heaving with the strain of sucking in enough air to breathe in the thin upper reaches of the atmosphere.  She was perhaps the first to notice the fiery haze in the reaches of space that would spell doom for so many.  Instinctively she pulled her wings tight against her body, racing back to the surface, planning already how she would address her kin once she had gathered them.  Now speeding full force she began to shift her body to slow the fall, gradually flattening parallel to the ground then a wingtip, and whoosh!  Wings instantly unfurled she climbed briefly to dissipate the force of the stop, then tucked wings gently for her final falcon-like drop.  The ground, her prey rushing ever closer, and a final flap to bring her to a gentle perch.  Craning her neck back she let out a mighty signal roar to signal all the dragons who could hear, to be passed along.  Then as soon as she alighted Threonax was off again to prepare the ceremonial meeting ground for the greatest gathering  since the third council of all dragons…

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