The time had come.
Outside the Dragon Society's mansion, Aristotle stood before an altar, upon which were placed the Orbs of Light and Darkness, the latter of which had been delivered to him by Aqualad and Slizzath only days before. Behind him, the members of the Dragon Society order stood in assembly, with somber and stern expressions on their faces.
What's more... all around them, on the grounds, a number of posts had been arranged in seemingly fixed points. On each post was a seal with writing on it.
A million thoughts were running through the old man's mind. He had waited for this day for so long... sacrificed so much, and now... now it almost seemed wholly within his grasp. He almost felt like he didn't believe it was actually happening. And yet... here he was, with all the tools his needed, and all eight dragons in assembly.
He turned to face his followers, and smiled. "Today is a momentous day..." he said to himself.