Erraeon went straight to the lake and gathered mud in his claws. He took it to a flat-topped boulder and started to work.

Theoglen had gone to the edge of the forest searching for a suitable stone for his piece. He soon found one, a large lump of black marble. He took it to a clearing and went back. He asked Aquas that as he was not a dragon, as he could not breathe fire, could another dragon help him?

Aquas agreed. She asked the dragon Caelum to help him.

“One more thing, can you please make sure no one goes to where I am making my object, as I would like to keep mine secret for now.”

“Of course.” She breathed.

Theoglen had Caelum breathe fire on the stone in a continuous line, getting hotter and hotter.

“Are you sure this will work?” Caelum asked when he took a breath.

“No, but unless I want to end up as dragon fodder, it had better.”

Eventually the stone melted and Theoglen sent Caelum away outside the clearing, out of hearing and sight. He then started, with dragonskin gloves (made from shed skin-no animals killed to make them) that he had managed to wheedle from Embero, to shape his statue.

Erraeon used more and more mud, among other things, including rock and plants. His statue-for he was making a statue also-would be the best. It was lucky he could fly, or he would never have managed to fashion it satisfactorily…

Two hours remained.

Theoglen breathed heavily, the tension was unbearable. He just needed a little bit more time.

Erraeon flew down to the lake and picked up a rock the size of three grown men’s heads. He flew back to his construction and put it into place. He repeated this.

One and a half hours remained.

They both worked frantically into the morning. Then their time was up.

It was the morning and both Erraeon and Theoglen were standing around a tree stump, as were the other three dragons. In this challenge, all the dragons would vote.

They were both nervous yet strangely confident. Erraeon was to go first.

He showed them to a part of the forest with a big open space. A huge curtain woven of dry grass obscured one side. They sat in front of it, two metres back. Erraeon stood to the side of the grass curtain.

Erraeon began.

“My friends, remember the days when we fought the humans.” (“no offense, two-legs”, he said to Theoglen)”Remember the battles. Remember how the calmest of us would suddenly crack and hurl ourselves at the foes of dragonkind. Remember the glorious feeling of battle, remember the joy as we ripped humans limb from limb!”

He was shouting now, keeping his audience under the spell.

“And most of all, remember the FIRE!”

He let forth a great burst of flames, which ignited the dry grass. It fell, smouldering, to reveal a great statue of a dragon, many times larger than life. The eyes were rocks, the body mud, the claws and teeth stone, but with the fire dancing in the eyes it seemed almost alive. It was a monument to dragons, to the savage creatures they could be, and had been. It was a war monument.

The dragons applauded loudly, but did not give a score of any kind. That would wait till later.

Theoglen now showed them to his object. They sat waiting as he went to a hollow log and reached inside, staying towards the audience.