“They were- but Apollyon thinks they aren’t. He’s trying to unite them with himself as Monarche of all Draconat. It’s about power, really.” Onyx shuffled her claws. “Anyway, I- uh, work. For him. Westar followed me to Mount Nassir, in the Ash-Rock Range, and got caught by Apollyon himself. After he left, I lured Flint away by telling them to attack Aerattl. They’re well-protected though, and the clones will fail without Apollyon’s help.” Westar’s eyes were wide. “So that’s why the black dragon left? You distracted him?” Onyx’s eye brightened as she looked at him. “Yes. I had to pretend to betray you and drag you around so that Flint wouldn’t suspect me.” Westar’s ears flattened. “But won’t you get caught?” He asked her, worried. Onyx thought for a moment, then held out her right forearm. “No. Burn me.” She told him. Westar yelped as her talon shot toward him.