Deep within the bowels of the Earth, in a vast cave system sunlight never touched, the now-ancient platinum dragon’s eyelids fluttered open.
With a thought toward directing a tiny trickle of arcane power, she banished the eons of ichor blurring her vision. Before her, at the wide entrance to her lair, stood a young granite dragon. His eyes darted nervously around the cavern.
Certainly, he couldn’t have been worried about the cavern itself. Once, millennia ago, the walls, ceiling, and floor had been raw earth and stone. They had been almost crumbling, the ceiling and floor covered in stalactites and stalagmites, the walls covered with lichen.
But no longer.
Before she had begun her Sleep, Kwallindauria had sculpted the interior of the cavern. At the time, she’d been tiny compare...
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