13- Let us remind those lesser beings of our people’s supremacy!

The flickering moonlight seeped into a vast crystal hall, casting a thousand shimmering glints on the smooth, pristine walls. Translucent columns soared toward a vaulted ceiling so high it seemed to swallow the gaze, while a mound of gold gleamed at the room's center, its reflections creating a warm, otherworldly glow.

Sprawled atop this treasure, a colossal dragon rested in an unshakable pose of sovereignty. Its scales, blending obsidian black and sunlit gold, shimmered with each subtle movement. Its eyes burned with incandescent light. Its thick, muscular tail coiled around the mound like a protective chain, and its wings, folded against its back, cast majestic shadows on the glittering walls.

A creak shattered the solemn silence. A strange creature entered, slithering like a serpent. Its chitinous body gleamed with glossy blue, and its four luminescent eyes seemed to probe the darkness. It approached cautiously to the base of the mound and, with a deep bow, knelt.

"Graskh n'tor Vaalhrim, shar'n tok-thraal thrasken!" it declared in a deep, resonant voice. (O master of eternal flames, I come bearing a burden only you can judge.)

The dragon slowly opened one eye, its vertical pupil glowing with inquisitive light.

"N'ah skryaa… throl'his fral'hu?" it growled, its vibrant voice rumbling like distant thunder. (And why, worm, do you disturb my rest?)

The creature lowered its head further, its antennae quivering slightly. "Hum'lans n'teskn… torral thraskh. Xresh taulok'nu vaa." (The humans… they've discovered our movements. Their curiosity grows dangerous.)

The dragon raised its massive head slightly, its fangs glinting in the crystal light. "Skresh tor'hraal, thraksha." (So what? Their knowledge changes nothing. Do you trouble me for this?)

The creature hesitated, its voice growing more urgent. "Tharnu…" (My king…)

The dragon roared, a deep, terrifying sound that shook the crystal walls and sent a shower of sparkling dust cascading from the heights.

"Thrassir nou thrakshar skraal thrall'hu!" it declared, its eyes blazing with fury. (I decide the course of our actions!)

As the creature recoiled under the weight of the rebuke, a powerful wingbeat filled the hall. Another creature entered. Smaller, but its posture and gaze exuded unnerving confidence. It bore shimmering plumage that shifted hues with the light and a long golden beak.

"Thral'hu Ith'rak, thrashar. Vaa Thar'Zor, roi des cieux ardents." (Don't worry, Ith'rak. Remember you serve Thar'Zor, king of the blazing skies.)

The dragon let out a deep, almost amused grunt.

"Thrall kresh hrosha, vaa sha thraskh vaal hum'lans." (The time hasn't come yet, but it nears. These humans are mere straw before the coming storm.)

The newcomer turned to the dragon, tilting its head slightly. "But, o master of eternal flames, the time to dominate draws close."

The dragon shook its head, scattering glints of light. "We'll keep our pace. Their haste will only hasten their own destruction."

It shifted slightly, its eyes fixing on the newcomer. "And you, why are you here?"

The creature bowed low before answering in a melodious voice: "Thar'Zor, 90% of the Enchanted Forest is now under our control."

The dragon narrowed its eyes. "And what blocks the rest?"

The creature hesitated briefly. "The elves, o great Thar'Zor. Their resistance is stubborn."

A heavy silence fell. The dragon let out a low growl, its claws scraping the golden mound.

"Then it's time to remind them who rules."

Thar'Zor rose slowly, its immense body unfurling. The hall's crystals vibrated under the weight of its movements, casting fiery reflections on the smooth walls. Its wings half-unfolded, tracing ominous shadows over the kneeling creatures.

"They will learn to fear my name," it rumbled, its voice like rolling thunder. Its incandescent eyes settled on the feathered creature. "You. Rally the troops. I want this forest mine before the next moon."

The creature, still bowed, lifted its head gently. "It will be done, o master of the blazing skies." It turned gracefully, its iridescent plumage shimmering, and left the hall without another word.

The dragon then turned to the chitinous creature. "And you, go back to watching the humans. I want no sight or sound of those insects."

The creature bowed, its antennae twitching nervously. "Your orders will be carried out, Thar'Zor." It retreated cautiously before vanishing into the corridor's darkness.

Alone in the vast hall, the dragon folded its wings and rested its chin on the golden mound. A deep sigh echoed through the space. Its eyes closed slowly.

---

Meanwhile, in a clearing, a group of elves gathered around a fire.

Their leader, an elf with piercing eyes and silver hair, stepped forward. She wore light armor of bark and ivy.

"The dragon prepares its offensive," she declared, her voice clear. Her companions exchanged grave looks. "We must act before it destroys what remains of our land."

A young, frail-looking elf stepped forward timidly. "Matron, wouldn't it be wiser to seek help from the humans? Their ingenuity could…"

"No," the matron cut in, her tone final. "The humans have never respected our forests. Their greed is no different from the dragon's. We must expect to fight alone."

The clearing filled with anxious murmurs.

The matron placed a firm hand on the gnarled trunk at the center of their circle.

"My brothers and sisters," she began, her voice deep but steady, "there will be no submission, no surrender. Never. Not while I breathe."

Silence fell. Even the leaves stopped rustling in the gentle breeze, as if the forest itself were listening.

A sturdy elf with tanned skin and fierce eyes stood. "Then we're doomed! How many have already fallen to that monster's claws? How many villages burned to ash?"

"Enough!" cried a young elf with copper hair, leaping to her feet. "Talking of defeat when the war's barely begun is unworthy of us. Elves are not cowards! We're not the victims in this story!"

A murmur of agreement rose, and the matron nodded slowly.

"Fenya is right," she said, her voice gaining strength. "We're not victims. We're the guardians of this land, and it's time the world understood that. Our silence was never weakness. It was patience. But that patience has limits."

An older elf, leaning on a gnarled staff, limped forward. "You speak well, Matron, but against a dragon king, will our strength alone truly suffice? The humans… they won't be our friends, but they could be allies. We share a common enemy, and that's enough for a fragile alliance."

An uproar followed.

"The humans?" protested another elf with a stern face. "They destroy as much as they protect! They're opportunists. Once they're done with the dragon, they'll turn on us!"

But Fenya, the copper-haired elf, spoke with feverish energy. "Let them try, then! We fear no one. This forest, this land, is our legacy. If we must fight alone, we will. But if the humans want to join this war, we'll use them as they use us. What matters is victory. Not their friendship."

The matron raised a hand to restore calm.

"Enough," she said firmly. "We are elves. We are the children of the forest, the breath of the ancients. And we will fight, together, for all we hold dear."

A rallying cry rose. The elves stood one by one, raising their fists to the starry sky.

"For the forest!" shouted a young warrior.

"For our people!" echoed another.

The matron took a deep breath, clenching her fists. She looked at each elf present, a fierce glint in her eyes.

"Let us remind those lesser beings of our people's supremacy!"