Shimmerscale

A haunting roar sounded from the very center of the battlefield. The Skydancer beat at one enemy with his powerful faceted wings, clawed at another, and continued to easily plow through their forces. Once free of his assailants, Shimmerscale turned and sprinted up the copious stairs leading to the palace.
He narrowed his eyes as he heaved open one of the bejeweled double doors and stepped into the throne room. It was pitch-black; he couldn't see a thing.
Suddenly, torches around the room flared to life, and Shimmerscale found himself face to face with the face of another dragon—no—it was metal; a cannon shaped like a dragon.
The one Shimmerscale had been ordered to kill—the prince of this city, who, due to his behavior, has been suspected to be possessed by the Shade—slunk out of the shadows and draped his body over the golden weapon. The Imperial grinned, the torchlight glinting off of his intricate silver crown, and said, "Ah, you wish to defeat me, little one?"
Shimmerscale growled and subtly began to back away, but the shadows themselves rose to stop him. The Skydancer struggled among their grasping claws.
The prince simply laughed, and, with a wisp of Fire magic, lit the fuse of the cannon and disappeared back into the darkness of the palace. Shimmerscale's eyes widened as the fuse grew shorter and shorter.
He screamed as the cannon fired. An odd fluid burst out of the barrel, covering him and blasting him back out of the palace. He tumbled down the expanse of stairs he had come from, hearing his own bones snapping with each impact, and only came to a stop at the very bottom. He couldn't move, and whatever the liquid was that the cannon had fired at him was solidifying and further restricting movement.
Shimmerscale's eyes closed as someone shouted to him, trying to snap him out of it.

The old dragon was, as usual, tending to his flowers. Though his movement was severely restricted by previously broken bones and the hard, tar-like black substance that covered his body, he was dedicated enough to his silent, unmoving companions to move enough to take care of them. It was truly something special how passion can make the near impossible happen.
As she mused about that, Penelope revealed herself to the old warrior, who jumped in surprise, only to regret it as it set off a fresh wave of pain.
Penelope chuckled, and Shimmerscale smiled awkwardly.
(written by Hydria)