Grandpa's feet found solidity once more, his arms extended before him, now void of Yirki's presence. His eyelids lifted gradually, revealing an expanse of void, where the horizon churned in shades of twilight—purples melding with the abyss. Despite the absence of light, his form remained visible, an expected anomaly, for he recognized this realm all too well.
"It has been an age, old ally," a voice, rough as gravel, resonated from the shadows. "I had wagered you'd be ensnared in that crystal for eternity."
A grin creased Grandpa's weathered features as he pivoted, beholding the formidable specter. A large Dragon loomed before him, wings unfurled, veins pulsing with inner fire. Beneath the coal-black scales, red eyes gleamed, and horns twisted skyward like dark spires.
"Dominus the Shieldscale," Grandpa greeted, a note of respect threading his casual tone. "Your honor remains intact, having spared Yirki. For that, you have my thanks."
"Contrary to you, Eolande, I am bound by my word," Dominus retorted, rising to its full, imposing height, its gaze a condescending glare upon the aged Aarakocra. "Even the boy's mother honored her pact, exchanging his soul for her ambitions. It seems deceit is solely your art."
Undisturbed, Grandpa flexed his talons, his wings stretching to their full span. Around him, the darkness whispered.
"How many eons did you withstand my assault before fate intervened?" Grandpa taunted, conjuring from the gloom a blade that hungered for the light. Grasping its hilt, he ascended, his wings a silent challenge, bringing him to lock eyes with the dragon. "Your capitulation would be graciously accepted."
A smirk unfurled on the dragon's maw, its wings' embers flaring, as if stoked by an unseen force. With a solemn nod, Grandpa gestured for Dominus to make its move.