The scene returned to ten minutes earlier.
Ysera stood beside the teleporter leading to the Spark of Imagination, waiting for the two groups to reunite. She had no objection to Dick entering the Spark of Imagination to clear the obstacles ahead. The Order Knight had the ability to accomplish everything he wanted to do, and Ysera had no reason to stop him.
This Mortal Knight was growing at a speed none of them could have imagined. Six years was scarcely more than an instant of leisure to dragons who could sleep for nearly a century at a time. Yet in that brief span, Ysera had watched Dick climb ever higher. In six years, this mortal had gone from having nothing to offer to shining brilliantly, writing a miracle that could almost never be replicated.
Ysera did not understand why Dick was so eager to handle these truly troublesome affairs. Everything that had happened in Silithus and the Broken Isles, and the battle at Blackrock Spire, were exceedingly troublesome matters even to the dragons. Then there was the recent war against the undead, an event that qualified as an all-out war even in their eyes. The two sides should never have been evenly matched; it should have been a one-sided battle. Yet through the efforts of Dick and those mortals, who had fought without regard for their lives, it had actually ended in a glorious victory.
The ripples this had caused within the Dragonflights were far more complicated than they appeared on the surface.
Young dragons merely marveled at the mortals' courage and indomitable spirit, endlessly debating the significance of the dragons' first participation in a mortal war. But the steady, seasoned elder dragons saw something entirely different. More than one elder dragon had told Ysera that the mortals had risen,