After making my daily supply run to the various tribes in the Copper Mines, I again made the rounds with all the dragons. There seemed to be so many who were pining for their missing riders lately. I kept encouraging them, though I could see it was fruitless to do so for poor Saphira. After Asora’s brutal gory death at Evil Garrick’s hands, I knew there was little I could do for her.
Seeing her land in a heap in the Old Elven Market area, I did what I could to get her to eat. She had been eating less and less, the poor dear. Though I knew her end was inevitable without Asora there, I could not help but feel terribly sorry for her. Dragons bonded so closely with their people as I had found with Nidhogg, that if anything happened to either of the pair, it killed or took the heart for living life out of the other. Saphira was no exception. She was deeply depressed and grieving Asora’s death keenly. I feared her end would be soon.
Saphira lay weakly in a heap of skin and bones at my feet, despair in her eyes. I sat next to her and put her head in my lap. I stroked her head and neck and murmured softly to her to comfort her. Her scales felt rough and were not laying flat and snug as they should, a sure sign of dehydration. She barely acknowledged my presence, but eventually drifted into a fitful sleep, her breathing shallow.
I quietly prayed to Torrix to take His sad forgotten child home to the Pagoda to be with Scylla, Ryuu and the happy youthful Nidhogg. Since Asora was now a guardian of the Pagoda, she could be reunited with him there.
Saphira’s breathing became more labored and each breath became a struggle. I wept for her silently, sensing her time was very near. Finally her arduous gasps ceased altogether. Her body vanished from my sight. Even as tears wet my face, I gave thanks that Mighty Torrix had been so merciful. I hoped to see faithful Saphira in the Holy Pagoda, joyful and contented once again with her beloved Asora.
Home 
