Overnight, the colossal structural damage caused by the toddlers' explosive magical mishap had been entirely, miraculously erased.
Zarek and Caspian had spent the midnight hours utilizing their overwhelming draconic and aquatic powers to not only clear the wreckage of the collapsed grandstand but to forge an even grander, vastly superior royal viewing platform from the very earth and stone of the arena.
Now, as the horns blew to signal the beginning of the continental event, the Iron-Wood festival grounds were a sea of vibrant, chaotic life.
Roxy was escorted up the wide, sweeping stone steps of the newly erected royal pavilion. She was dressed in a breathtaking gown of spun gold and deep, rich emerald, the fabrics completely complimenting the radiant, maternal glow of her transmigrated pregnancy. She took her seat upon the beautiful, raised Matriarch's throne, a massive chair crafted from polished iron-wood and draped in the softest, thickest dire-wolf pelts.
