The northern plains unfurled before the Dawn Coalition like a battlefield etched in dust, its cracked earth trembling under a sky heavy with storm clouds. The air carried the scent of parched grass and the faint rumble of hooves, a prelude to the clash ahead. Saphira led with resolute steps, her golden pelt scarred and singed, the Iron Fang's weight hidden in her tattered cape, its curse a persistent whisper that gnawed at her soul. Visions flickered—Gorath's herd crushed, Veyla's wind silenced, the savannah drowned in blood—but she forced them down, her father's ring glinting at her throat, a tether to Azran's vision. The Windscar Plains faded behind, their wind runes a fading hum, and Rhino Ridge loomed ahead, its jagged rocks a fortress for Rhogar's restless herd.
The journey tested their resolve. Dust storms lashed the plains, their grit stinging her eyes, and Saphira's fire magic flared to shield the coalition, its heat carving a path through the haze. Each burst drained her, her ribs pressing sharp against her hide, but she pressed on, Veyla limping at her side, her bandaged flank a testament to their trials. Gorath's buffaloes rumbled at the rear, their earth magic a steady drum, while Khyra's lions and Tormen's antelopes flanked the edges, their fire and horns a fragile unity. The coalition moved as one, but tension simmered—Rhogar's horns could turn the tide, or shatter it.
At Rhino Ridge's base, the earth shook with a thunderous roar, and Rhogar emerged, his armored hide cloaked in dust, his massive horns curved like crescent blades. His eyes, sharp as obsidian, glinted with warlord's pride, the son of Torran the Thunderhoof, burdened by his father's legacy. The herd parted, their hooves carving a ring in the cracked earth, their rumbles a hymn of defiance. "A lioness with a cursed blade," Rhogar bellowed, his voice deep as a quake. "You bring proof of Maku's flood, yet Kael's fire holds our pledge. Why should we break it, flame-cub?"
Saphira stood tall, her tail flicking, her fire magic coiling in readiness. "I am Saphira, daughter of Azran, rightful queen of the savannah. Kael's throne is built on lies—my father's murder, Syrine's blood—and Maku's flood will drown us all. These pearls and scrolls from Mudspire prove their treachery. Join the Dawn Coalition, Rhogar, and your earth magic can shatter their plans."
The herd stirred, their hooves stamping, their murmurs a tide of doubt and fury. Rhogar's tail lashed, his horns gleaming in the storm light. "Kael offers land, strength, unity. You offer war and a hunted name. Words are dust, lioness. Prove your worth in the old way—a duel. Face my champion, and wield your fire. Win, and we'll consider your cause. Fail, and the ridge will bury you."
Saphira nodded, her heart racing but her resolve iron. The herd formed a tighter circle, their hooves shaking the earth, and a champion stepped forward—a hulking rhino, its hide scarred, its horn sharpened to a lethal point. Its breath steamed, its eyes blazing with challenge, and it charged, its hooves a thunderclap that split the plains. Saphira crouched, her fire magic coiling like a storm, the Fang's hum guiding her. As the rhino bore down, she roared, her flames surging in a precise arc, the Fang's runes flaring as lightning cracked the sky. The heat deflected the charge, the rhino veering, its horn grazing her side but drawing no blood. She leapt, her fire weaving a tempest, and the Fang's storm summoned a gust that staggered the beast. With a final burst, she seared its flank, the rhino collapsing, its rumbles a mix of defeat and respect.
The herd's murmurs grew louder, their eyes glinting with awe. Rhogar's tail stilled, his gaze piercing, but before he could speak, the Fang's curse surged—Burn them all, claim their horns—its visions flooding her mind, Rhogar's herd reduced to ash. Saphira snarled, forcing it down, her mercy a spark of Azran's vision, and stepped back, her breath ragged. Rhogar approached, his massive frame casting a shadow, his rumble cautious. "Your fire is mighty, lioness. The duel is yours, but the curse stirs. I'll split my herd—half march with you, half hold Kael's pledge. Our earth magic will shield, not strike, until your crown is proven."
Before Saphira could respond, a shimmer of mist curled through the plains, the air thickening with the scent of silt and deception. Zara's illusionists emerged, their forms weaving visions of lions and rhinos, their water magic a flood that hissed against the earth. The herd faltered, their rumbles turning to panic, but Saphira roared, her flames burning through the mist, the Fang's power summoning lightning that shattered the illusions. Six hippos revealed themselves, their hides gleaming, their jaws snapping with enchanted water. "Maku sends a message," Zara's voice purred from the haze, her sleek form slinking forward. "Your flame will drown, lioness. Rhino Ridge falls first."
The coalition surged, cheetahs darting, buffaloes charging, lions blazing, but Saphira faced Zara atop a ridge rock, her fire clashing with the hippo's torrent. The Fang's runes flared, its storm amplifying her flames, and she burned through Zara's water shield, her claws raking the hippo's flank. Zara bellowed, wounded but defiant, and retreated into the mist, her illusionists scattering, their rumbles a vow: "The flood rises, flame-cub!"
The plains fell silent, the storm light returning, its glow soft against the bloodied earth. Rhogar's splintered herd joined the coalition, their earth magic a steady pulse, but his eyes narrowed, sensing the tide's shift. "Maku's flood targets us now," he growled, his voice heavy with resolve. "My horns will shield, but the savannah trembles."
Saphira panted, her flames sputtering, her body trembling but unbroken. "Thank you, Rhogar. Your earth holds the flood, and together we'll burn their lies." She turned to the coalition, her pelt bristling with determination, the Fang's hum a shadow over her heart. The oxpeckers' cries sharpened, their wings slicing the sky, a glint of emerald flickering in the distance—Xajin's eyes, a predator cloaked in smoke, tracking her every step. The savannah watched, its plains quaking, and Saphira's flame burned brighter, a hero forged by sacrifice, but the true battle loomed, its shadows growing darker with each hoofbeat.