The air then seemed denser, mingled with the incense. Neftraya and Uras stepped back a little, moving to opposite sides.
"Lord Krarvathar… how did you get here?" The priestess's voice sounded genuinely surprised, for Amophf had not warned her about this.
Uras stared up at Krarvathar, craning his neck. The dragon appeared larger, more imposing, like a god.
"Your scent. I sensed it from afar." The dragon replied without taking his eyes off the old elf. The woman smiled; if she were younger, she might have blushed. Jóarnaliel maintained an upright posture, arms crossed at the base of his belly, staring directly into the dragon's eyes in silence, as if studying him. Uras noticed the tension between them.
"Behold, elf: the new human, sent by the heavens to—"
"To destroy everything, Uras'Diptsur. Including you." Jóarnaliel replied sharply, startling the pharaoh. Neftraya approached Krarvathar.
"My lord, why are you here?" she asked the dragon gently, then turned her gaze to the elf with a smile. Jóarnaliel ignored her.
"To talk."
The answer surprised even the elf; his white, wrinkled face grew tense.
"There is nothing more to talk about," Uras intervened. "The Gods' answer was clear and—"
"Your God may change my form, but not what I want, Pharaoh." Krarvathar objected, not looking at him, yet his deep voice rang as though forcing the leader of the mightiest empire to bow.
Neftraya could not understand why he wanted to converse with the elf if he had been created to kill them.
Jóarnaliel narrowed his eyes. He knew he should not speak to such a creature, but in his current form, he could do nothing physical against it.
"Tell me what you wish to know, incarnate evil!"
Krarvathar smiled at the label but did not dwell long on the notion of evil.
"I was created to kill you all, and so I shall. Yet a thought came to me: you, my natural prey, might help me rediscover myself," the dragon explained.
Neftraya opened her mouth to speak, but Krarvathar continued:
"So take me to your home. Let me see the ancient history through your eyes, and I promise that—"
"Two existences created for the same purpose: that is what we are." Jóarnaliel interrupted, his body already crumbling into dust. "You, being of Chaos, will die. No matter what happened to leave you in this form—for evil there remains only non-existence, like your father, Baræshadã."
Instinct took over. In the blink of an eye, Krarvathar was upon the elf, seizing him by the throat. Yet even though it affected the old one, his body was already in a state of transition. Krarvathar's yellow eyes met the elf's, who smiled with dusty lips.
The name of Krarvathar's father flooded his mind. His body spun toward where Jóarnaliel was dissipating; his arms stretched out to demolish that part of the temple and charge toward the elves.
Krarvathar felt a loud buzzing in his ears and a voice calling him—almost the same one he had heard when he was still a dragon. Then he awoke again. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He realized where he was.
For some reason, upon hearing that name, he had reverted to what he once was: an irrational beast. His breathing was heavy as he faced the frightened stares of Neftraya and Uras'Diptsur.
"Do not destroy," Neftraya pleaded once more, approaching him slowly. Uras was just as anxious. For a moment, he saw in Krarvathar again the same creature from when he had fallen: something made purely for destruction.