Darigaaz took a deep breath and eyed the tree. It was indeed a mountain. How could he bring this creature out? How could he hope to free a Primeval?

You know how, spoke a voice in Darigaaz's mind. It was a purring voice, feminine and powerful.

Abstracted, the elder dragon reached up to the talismans at his wattle.

No, the answer does not tie there. That is new magic, a distillation of colors. We lived before all that. We lived when power was raw and elemental. You must tap the primeval power, Rhammidarigaaz.

Tap the primeval power? How?

You have been a servant to mortals too long. You have forgotten what it means to be a dragon. To be a king.

Darigaaz bristled. He was the elder dragon of Shiv. He was the lord of the dragon nations. He had not forgotten what it was to be a dragon king.

You're no king. You're a diplomat, a negotiator. You must rule yourself before you can rule these folk. What of volcanic desire? What of volcanic power?

"Have you brought us here merely to stand and stare?" asked the lord of the black dragons.

Darigaaz shook off his reverie. Only then did he notice that Lord Rokun coiled before him.

Rokun was a coal-black beast cast in the very likeness of Tevash Szat, the dragon god who had begun this whole escapade. Rokun's tongue was also the equal of Szat's.

"Did we fly across the ocean only to land here without plan or purpose?"

Yes? Did you?

The fire kindled in Darigaaz's belly grew only hotter. "Our purpose is to raise the second Primeval before the Phyrexians can destroy her. Our plan is to join the strength of the dragon nations to tap ancient power."

Feigning credulity, Rokun said, "Oh, yes. Let's all join in a circle and hold hands-"

Don't coddle him. He is not your child. He is your subject.

"Would you be silent?" Darigaaz snapped, uncertain whether he addressed Rokun or the voice in his head.

"No, I will not," snarled Rokun. His tail lashed. His claws gripped the black soil as he circled the dragon elder.

"I kept my silence while many of us were slaughtered at Koilos-and for what, a hunk of sand that is now in Phyrexian hands?"

You fight for men, not for dragons.

"The permanent portal was destroyed. That was the purpose of the Battle of Koilos-"

"I kept my silence as you led us to what little remained of your homeland, to fight for nose-picking goblins and runty Viashino. I kept my silence even as you led us across the world to find this oversized scratching post, but I will keep silent no longer."

Lash out. If you let him speak that way to you, he will rebel.

Darigaaz lifted claws to his ears. "I'm through listening to you."

"No, you aren't. I'm taking control of the dragon nations. We will follow you no longer!"

Lash out! Are you too docile to save your own people?

Darigaaz's claws raked down from his ears and seized the black, hackled throat of the upstart. "You will not take command of this army. Not while I live." He hurled Rokun away from him, into a crowd of black dragons that eagerly watched the confrontation. They reeled back, clearing the way.

Rokun rose menacingly. In the dark forest, his plate armor seemed more insectoid than reptilian.

Through gleaming fangs, he hissed, "Oh, Rhammidarigaaz the Elder, I have longed for this moment." He launched himself at his foe.

Black power scintillated across his horns and coalesced down his arms. Rokun's claws grew preternaturally outward like lines of ink drawn on the air. Those lines intersected Darigaaz's stomach and cut deep parallel furrows through the scales.

The elder dragon reeled back.

At least one of you remembers how to fight.

Darigaaz did not heed the voice, busy remembering something else-the volcanoes of Shiv. He drew the power to him and formed it into a red-hot column of force that poured from his clawtips. He roared and lunged. His talons clenched the black dragon's throat. Incendiary heat ripped through the monster's neck. From the holes torn by his claws gushed a tarry liquid. The acid burned Darigaaz's flesh. More sprayed between the black dragon's clenched teeth. Where it spattered Darigaaz, his own scales dissolved. It burned wounds across his neck and shoulders. Darigaaz reeled back.

Use your native power…

Like a well-stoked furnace, Darigaaz drew a hissing breath. Within his chest, breath transformed. It coalesced into pure energy and roared out. Flame blazed from his mouth. It ate the air between the dragons. A ball of fire broke over Rokun.

Ah, you do remember about volcanic heat! You do remember that you are a dragon and a king!

Rokun thrashed in the searing fire. His wings burned away in an acrid whoosh. His scales curled upward like mud drying beneath the sun. He staggered, going to his knees. Even the acid that dripped from his wounded throat burned.

Still, Darigaaz did not relent. Feral flame poured out of him and laved the rebel lord.

Yes, Rhammidarigaaz! Kill him, and the others will fall in line!

As if awakening from a nightmare, the elder dragon shuddered. His eyes grew wide. Fire ceased in his throat. The last of the flames dribbled between his fangs. Rhammidarigaaz stared in horror at the smoldering figure.

Rokun struggled to rise from the blackened ground where he lay. It was no good. His scales were as fragile as dry leaves. The vital fluids of his being drained whitely from every pore. He would die-that much was certain- but he was not dead yet.

Staggering numbly toward his foe-his victim- Darigaaz called out, "Summon the white dragons! Summon the healers!"

"Don't bother!" rasped out Rokun. "They can only prolong it now. You have slain me, Rhammidarigaaz. You have slain me because I dared to oppose you."

Yes, Rhammidarigaaz, purred the voice in his head. That is what you have done. That is what you had to do.

Staring feverishly at the ravaged figure, Darigaaz said, "You would have slain me-"

"I would have slain you… to save our people from worthless wars and old myths," gasped Rokun. "I would have slain you to save the dragon nations… from being the tool of planeswalkers."

"Better the tool of planeswalkers than the tool of Phyrexians."

Through smoke-whitened eyes, Rokun looked up past Darigaaz to the other dragons. "Break from him… Escape the doom he brings…"

You must finish him before he turns your people away!

"This quest will destroy you… and all of us…"

"Silence, Rokun! You are defeated. Be silent!"

"You cannot silence me… They will rebel against you…"

A self-fulfilling prophecy!

"I said, silence!"

"Rise against him, dragon nations! Rise!"

You must finish him!

Rhammidarigaaz reached down, grabbing the scorched body. Scales shattered beneath his claws. He hoisted the creature overhead. Fury surged through him. Lifting Rokun high, he hurled him through the air. The ravaged body arced outward. Enough life remained in it that Rokun struggled to right himself. His claws and tail lashed.

Rokun crashed atop the root bulb. Nine spikes ripped through his seared flesh, impaling him. The body slumped on those spikes. Air left him in a long, gurgling hiss.

Darigaaz watched, heart pounding in his throat. He looked down at his claws, black from the deed. He looked up at the dragon nations. In their eyes, he saw his mad figure.

Speak to them, Rhammidarigaaz. Threaten them. You are on the verge of losing them.

"Any other traitors-" Darigaaz began, even before he was sure what was coming from his mouth- "will die the same way."

It had been the wrong thing to say. The beasts visible recoiled from him.

It didn't matter. A transformation had begun.