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The Dragon spread his serrated wings and roared a challenge at the sky from his perch on the Bastille pinnacle. He leapt up and swooped down over the castle wall with his wings spread to catch the gust, then glided back up on a jetstream. He arced around a tower and glided in low, then soared back to sensational heights as he beat his wings against the setting sun. He tucked them in and bulleted toward another dragon, lurching to his side and smashing into him head on. He latched onto the dragon’s neck and thrashed with all his might. Then he swooped over him and showered him in a rain of fire as he flew by, ascending into the clouds victoriously. He tucked and rolled left spreading his massive wings on the airburst and spinning to narrowly avoid a hurling fireball. He soared around and weaved through turbulance to touch down on the castle wall, spewing fire at the guard post. He charged through sword battalions of knights, sending them hurtling over the wall into the sea, and ransacked the Bastille in a firestorm as he spread his wings prophetically wide like a black ghost of an unholy omen, then leapt into the raging cataclysm of night and flew off like a curse.