Suddenly, the sky turns dark.
Above, blocking out the sun, is a massive cloud of young dragons. Small flames from their mouths illuminate them every now and then. Their cries fill the air as the flood out of the Agart volcano in huge numbers. As they move further from Agart, the cloud of dragons thins as they each fly to their mothers.
Most of them.
The eggs left by dragoons in the underworld's lava fields have hatched, too. The dragoons will each find a young dragon flying torard them, chirping playfully.
The clouds of dragons pass as quickly as they came, and once again the sky is empty and peaceful. Across the world, the dragons surrounding cities retreat back to their caves.
In Mist, a tall man watches the young dragons fly overhead, surrounded by a swarm of young children in monks' clothes. He bows his head as they vanish, removing the tri-crested mask on his face to wipe his eyes before replacing it solemnly. One of the children takes his hand, grinning up at him, and another shoves him forward. Together they head toward Rydia's house.
It has been a very long day.
[Anyone is welcome to bother Bahamut if they want to. If you want to meet him in a place other than Mist, just assume the sylphs dragged him there.]![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}