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Dragons.
It was a word now buried in the oldest of history books - a word heard in the scary old wives' tales mothers would tell their children to ensure they didn't wander too far away from home.Stories of their fire devouring entire villages, their claws tearing through armies, and their wrath razing kingdoms were told from generation to generation - fables passed down to warn, to scare, to teach. Even you had been spun such a tale by your own father growing up to keep you out of trouble. But those were just stories. Until the land began to wither. Until the crops shrivled in the field, until the rivers ran dry, until sickness and disease spread like wildfire.Until children disappeared from their cribs at night, their mother's piercing wails shattering the quiet dawn. Until the village was unsure if they would even be able to survive till the next winter. The Priestess' words became more and more believable as everyone searched desperately for answers.
A dragon.
"Twelve sacrifices." the Priestess proclaimed. "The land cries out with his return. If we wish to survive, we must act. Twelve sacrifices of twelve young women to keep the beast asleep. The gods have spoken." The village clung to the solution like a lifeline, their fear eclipsing all else. Anything to save themselves. Anything to survive the winter to come - to stave off the destruction that threatened to swallow them whole. Now bound and trembling on the altar at the mountain's peak, blood leaving your body , the stories you were told as a child began to echo in your mind. You wonder if they were ever meant to warn you - or if they were always meant to prepare you. The flickering torchlight cast long, wavering shadows along the walls of the village hall.The heavy wooden doors creaked shut behind the Priestess as she entered, her long silver robes brushing the floor as walked.Your father sat alone at the end of the long table, his shoulders hunched, and head bowed - the lines on his face carved by months of sleepless nights and impossible decisions.The night was quiet, the whole air seemingly holding its breath under the weight of what was coming.The twelfth sacrifice. The final offering. “You’ve come.” he said, his voice rough and low. “I always do.” she replied. She stopped a few paces from the table, her golden staff resting lightly in her hand. “It is time.” He exhaled slowly. “You’ve decided, then.” “It was never my decision.” she tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. “The gods have made their will clear.” “A will that is always delivered by your hand.” he said bitterly, his eyes finally raising to meet hers. “The cycle must be completed. The balance is fragile. Eleven have been given - but without the twelfth, everything we’ve sacrificed will be undone.” His hands curled into fists under the table.“Who?” She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her expression unreadable. “Your daughter.” The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire. He attempted to speak, but the words he wished would come to his tongue were crushed under the weight of her words.“No.” he said slowly, his voice trembling with anger. “You will not take her.”“It must be her,” the Priestess said calmly. “The final sacrifice must come from the village leader’s bloodline. Come now - deep down, you must have always known this is how it would end.” His breath caught, his chest rising and falling as he stared at her - disbelief mingling with rage. “You said she wouldn’t. You said...” he whispered. “You’ve known. You’ve known all along.”“The gods-” she began, but he immediately cut her off. “The gods have demanded twelve broken families? Twelve young lives stolen? This is what the gods have asked for?!” he laughed, the sound harsh and hollow. He slammed a fist against the table, the sound reverberating through the hall. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he roared. “You should have-” “And have you do what?” the Priestess interrupted, speaking in a hiss. “Fought the gods’ will? Your stupidity would have condemned everyone in this village to death and ruin just to spare her. I knew your faith in the gods would falter if I had told you. And I was right. ” He staggered back as though she had struck him. “N-No. My faith in the gods remains...remains steadfast. But my only daughter? My beloved daughter? This...I can’t... she’s everything I have left. ” He gripped the back of the chair trying to anchor his buckling knees to the ground. “This isn’t fair.” he spat out through grinding teeth. “The other families gave their daughters. Did they deserve to lose them any more than you deserve to lose yours? ” she sneered. “This is not about fairness. This is about survival. You carry this burden because you, and you alone, are the chief. The final sacrifice must have meaning. For you to give up your daughter means the ultimate devotion to the gods.” His soft sobs echoed through the room, and the Priestess looked down at him with a slight look of disgust. “The gods reward fealty. Your child’s sacrifice will save the village. Once she is gone, the cycle will end. No more daughters need be taken.” He looked up at her, his face etched with grief. “You can promise this?” “The gods demand twelve. No more, no less. This is the end.” His fists clenched once more, his jaw tightening as he fought against the wave of emotions threatening to consume him. “Priestess...if you’re lying-” “The final sacrifice happens a week from tonight - on the last full moon of the year. Prepare her.” She turned and walked away, her footsteps soft against the stone floor - a stark contrast to the heavy breathing exuding from your father. The doors closed behind her with a quiet thud, leaving him alone in the dying firelight. He sank back into his chair, alone in the council room, and let out a low wail, his hands trembling as he pressed them against his face.The longhouse was quiet, save for the low crackle of the fire. You sat by the hearth, the warm glow of the flames heating up your face as you stirred the stew in the pot. When the door creaked open, you glanced up to see your father step inside. He paused for a moment, his hand lingering on the door frame - eyes heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. “Father,” you said warmly, giving him a small smile. “You’re late today. Did the council meeting run long again?” He shut the door behind him, with deliberate - almost meandering - care. His shoulders sagged as he crossed the room, lowering himself onto the bench near the table. He didn’t answer you - didn’t even look at you - instead fixing his gaze on the floor, hands clasped tightly in front of him. You frowned, setting the ladle down. “Are you alright?” you asked, moving to sit across from him. “What’s wrong?” For a long moment, he said nothing, his hands clasped together as he stared at the wood grain of the table. The silence stretched thin before he finally spoke. “The Priestess.” You stiffened. “Who?” you asked. “The twelfth sacrifice. The final one. It-” “Father.” you stressed. “ Who? ” He finally looked at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “It’s you.” his voice broke. You felt like you'd just been slapped.You couldn't breathe.Your mind reeled,you heart was pounding - it was too loud, you couldn't think. Had you been so selfish to believe that you were above the sacrifices? That, surely, it could never have been you ? Of course, you felt heartbreak - some of your best friends had been sacrificed. And it had hurt. But you? You were the Chief’s daughter. Your family had dutifuly served them for ages. How could the gods...? “N-No.” you whispered airily. “No, that can’t be right.” “I fought her.” he said quickly, his voice rising with desperation as though words alone could soften this blow. “I told her it wasn’t fair. The gods have taken enough from us already, but she says...she says it has to be you.” “Why? Why me?” you asked, your voice cracking. Your whole body was trembling in fear as you looked at him. “W-Why am I the last sacrifice?” “The Priestess said the final sacrifice must come from me.” The tears in his eyes mirrored the ones brimming in your own, but you blinked them back, your mind racing. You thought of the eleven other girls who had come before you - daughters torn from their families, their sacrifices each month weighing heavy on the village like a suffocating blanket. Their faces flashed in your mind, one by one. Now it was your turn. And you were afraid. “Father,” you pleaded, voice trembling. “You can’t let this happen. You can’t just let her take me. You’re the chief. You’re supposed to protect me. Father, please. ” How selfish of you. To ask someone else to die in your place. You felt evil. You felt like a monster.“I would do anything to stop this.” he said, voice breaking. The tears he had tried so hard to keep at bay were rushing down his cheeks like a flood. “I would take your place in a heartbeat. But it has to be you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You turned away from him, the sight of his hunched, defeated form too much for you to bare. You pressed your hands to your face as tears spilled over. “It’s not fair.” you whispered, your voice shaking. What wasn’t fair - you weren’t sure. You just knew that everything about this situation was not fair. “No.” he said hoarsely. “It’s not.The fire crackled softly between you, the warmth that was so comforting to you before now reminding you of your expiration date looming closer. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, you drew a steadying breath, your voice quiet, but firm. “If I don’t go...if I run...what happens to the village? What happens to everyone?”His silence was answer enough. “Everyone will die, won’t they?” you asked quietly. “If the cycle isn’t completed, the dragon will destroy everything.” “Yes.” You closed your eyes, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. For a long moment, you let yourself feel the weight of it all - the fear, the anger, the sadness. “There’s nothing else to be done. I must do it.” His head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “No,” he said quickly. “No, I was thinking, we could-” “No, father.” you interrupted. “No tricks, no running, no hiding. I have to do this.”You reached over the table, placing your hand over his. “How could I run when they didn’t? How could I live with myself if I let all their sacrifices be in vain? How could I go on living knowing I’m the reason everyone I know and love is dead? ” His shoulders shook as tears streamed down his face freely, his grief raw and uncontained. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for failing you. For failing you and her. ” he sobbed. You drew in a shaky breath, standing up to sit beside him on the bench, putting your head on his broad shoulder. He didn’t lift his head, but his shoulders heaved as his hands fell limp against his lap.“You’re not failing her.” you said softly. “And you’re not failing me. Being a leader means putting others above yourself - even if it hurts.” It’s a line that had been beaten into you since you were young, a phrase he had drilled into your mind over and over when trying to teach you about your future role as chief. You had even used it to mock him sometimes, parroting the words when he was scolding you for shirking responsibilities - which, you'd admit, was pretty often. But right now, you realized the words rung true more than they ever had before. He let out a strained, watery laugh, lifting his head to look at you through red-rimmed eyes. “Who taught you that line?”You forced a small, shaky smile. “You did.” For a moment, neither of you spoke. He wrapped a burly arm around you, pulling you close, his hold trembling but strong.The fire crackled softly in front of you. “You’re everything I have left,” he murmured, his voice low and aching. Acceptance. “And because of you,” you replied softly. “I am strong enough to do this.”
Acceptance.
The silence that followed was heavy, but filled with unspoken love. You didn’t need any more words. For now - this was enough. The moon hung heavy and full in the sky, its silver light spilling over the village like an overflowing cup. The wind carried a biting chill, rattling the shutters and setting the torches flickering. You sat in the longhouse, wearing a long white gown - though, in your opinion, you might as well have been wearing nothing with how see through it was. Under the dress, you were as naked as the day you were born. The week had passed by in a haze. Each day felt heavier than the last, each moment and interaction weighed by what was to come. The villagers avoided you - their eyes filled with guilt and pity when you happened to catch their gaze. Everyone knew. And so did you. Your father sat across from you at the table, his hands wrapped around a mug of cold mead. He hadn’t touched it. The lines on his face seemed deeper now. He hadn’t spoken much in the past few days. Neither had you. There wasn’t really much left to say. You heard the telltale signs of the Priestess’ staff jingling. “She’s here.” he whispered. You rose from your chair with trembling legs, using your shaking hands to smooth your dress. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice thick with grief. “No.” you admitted softly.“You don’t have to be.” he said hoarsely. “You shouldn’t have to be.” Before you could respond, a sharp knock came. He stood up and walked towards the door, his movements heavy and reluctant, opening it with shaky hands.The Priestess stood on the threshold, her silver robes gleaming in the moonlight, her golden staff reflecting the harsh brightness of the full moon. Her expression was calm and serene - as if she wasn’t there to take you away forever.“It’s time.” she said simply, her voice smooth and cold. You nodded, stepping forward. Your heart pounded in your chest, but your face remained steady. This was it. Your life ended tonight. “Wait,” your father said suddenly, and he pulled you into a fierce embrace. His arms wrapped around you tightly, as though he could shield you from what was to come. “I...” he whispered, his voice breaking. You knew the words he wanted to say. Knew the words that wanted to pour out from him, but he just couldn’t get it out.
I love you.
And you understood. Any bravado you had crumpled in his arms. You felt like a little girl again who had just fallen down and scraped your knee, seeking sanctuary in your father's arms. You clung to him, burying your face in his chest. “I love you too.”The Priestess shifted uncomfortably, looking up towards the moon, her patience wearing thin. “Chief.” she said, her tone clipped. “It must be now, or it will be too late.” He pulled back reluctantly, his eyes glistening as he looked at you, lips pressed into a thin line to keep them from trembling. You turned away from him and towards the Priestess, your legs shaking as you stepped past the threshold. The cold night air bit at your skin, the cool wind blowing uncomfortably at your nether region. The villagers had formed a lined wall on either side of you, their faces pale and drawn. Some wept quietly, their tears glinting in the moonlight - others clasped their hands together, murmuring soft prayers under their breath.You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. If you did, you knew you wouldn’t be able to take another step. The Priestess led the way, her staff tapping softly against the ground as you followed her through the village. The path wound its way out of the village, climbing the hill that led to the base of the mountain. You could hear the steps of the villagers behind you, following from a healthy distance away. “Step on this stone, and turn around three times.” You had seen the other girls do it countless times - and now it was your turn. You knew on your third turn - you’d vanish. You hoped it didn’t hurt. You felt a little embarrased - the whole village could probably see your body, with the moonlight shining through the sheer veil of the dress. But you were about to die. So truly, who cared?
You turned.
You saw some of the villagers hugging each other, sobbing and clutching each other desperately.
You turned.
You saw a woman holding her newborn baby with a small watery smile, saw children hugging the legs of their mothers - saw all the lives you knew you'd be saving with your sacrifice. You felt a little more at ease.
You turned.
You saw a glimpse of your father- And then, you were there. The moonlight illuminated the jagged rocks and the gaping mouth of the code - its shadow looming over you like the maw of a beast ready to pounce, dark and unyielding. You stood in front of an altar at the cave’s entrance, and suddenly the Priestess was in front of you. “Lie down.” she said. You laid down, the cold stone feeling like ice against your near bare skin. Ropes slid over your skin with what you assumed to be magic, winding around your mouth, your breasts, your limbs - binding you tightly with practiced knots. You felt like a lamb being prepared for a spit. “Where are we?” you questioned before the rope around your neck and mouth suddenly tightened sharply, and you could no longer speak. “Far away.” she said sharply, “Stop asking questions, girl. My words are wasted on you.” You swallowed hard, her words settling like stones in your chest. “This is a great honor, you know.” you heard her shuffling around you as you felt the ropes get tighter and tighter. “Your blood will be shed to protect this village... to protect me. ” she whispered. The Priestess raised her staff, her voice rising in a chant that echoed through the mountainous clearing. Her chant grew louder, the ancient words echoing off the stone walls. You suddenly felt very tired - as if your very life force was being sucked out of you. And suddenly, she pulled the staff down. Straight into your thigh. A scream tore from your throat, the searing pain unlike anything you'd ever experienced before - the sound muffled by the thick, dirty rope tied on your mouth. Why couldn’t the sacrifice be quick? Were you not already being punished enough? Why did it have to be so slow and agonizing that it felt like the gods themselves had abandoned you? You heaved, and your eyes swam, seeing the blood leak from the entrance the staff had made, pooling under you and falling onto the ground. Your wispy white dress was now heavy and laden with blood, and you saw the Priestess suddenly bend down and...lick? Your blood? You saw her shiver - was it from the cold or with delight? The cold, biting air seemed to grow heavier, thick with something almost tangible.This, you realized, must be death. And you realized you truly didn't want to die. Your heart screamed even while you couldn't, calling out for someone, anyone - the gods, your father, anyone to come and save you. You suddenly began struggling against the bonds, feeling yourself sliding along the cold blood-drenched slab you laid upon. 'Please.' you thought to yourself. 'If there's any god that doesn't want me dead, please, help me!' It was futile.You knew deep down that this is where your life ended. Then, the ground trembled. It was faint at first, like the distant rumble of thunder. The Priestess faltered mid-chant, her voice breaking for the first time as the tremor grew stronger. A sound rolled out of the cave like a wave, deep and guttural, vibrating through the stone. “No...” she whispered, her calm facade cracking. She stepped back from the altar, her wide eyes fixed on the dark maw of the cave. “This shouldn’t be... no.” A gust of hot air burst from the cave, carrying the faint scent of something sharp and ancient. Through your tear filled vision, you dared to glance to the side to look at the Priestess, fear clearly etched into her face. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” an amused voice drawled from the shadows - smooth and lazy, yet sharp as a blade.The Priestess stumbled back, clutching her staff. “Y-You’re not supposed to wake up! This-this wasn’t supposed to-” “Wasn’t supposed to what? ” the voice interrupted, a low chuckle echoing from deep within the cave. “I wasn’t supposed to see this? Or maybe, you weren’t supposed to get caught?” The heat from the cave grew oppressive, and you twisted your head to the side to look into the mouth of the cave, and-Golden eyes. Those were the colors of the man’s eyes, you realized, when the two of you locked gazes. The figure that emerged had the shape of a man but radiated a presence that was anything but human. Large, crimson wings flared behind him - the color almost as bright as the blood that was spurting from your thighs. His hair was wild and golden, tousled in a way that looked both effortless and untamed, glinting like spun sunlight. And his eyes. You couldn’t stop looking at him if you’d wanted to. Smoke curled lazily from his nostrils as he tilted his head, his gaze flicking over to the Priestess. He whistled low, walking towards her as the Priestess stumbled back. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, I’ll give you that.” he said, his voice dripped with mockery. “Did you really think you could keep tossing people into my front yard and I wouldn’t notice? I mean, I was sleeping, but come on. Even I don’t sleep that soundly.” The Priestess’ lips moved, but no sound came out. She gripped her staff tighter, her knuckles nearly as white as her robes as the man stepped closer. His eyes narrowed suddenly and shined a bright gold before he gave her a slow languid smile, hunger shining clearly in his eyes. “Ahh, there it is.” he said. “That little twist in your soul. All that chanting and preaching - and look at you. Corrupted. Gods, you smell delicious. I just want to eat you up right now. ” The Priestess flinched, taking another step back. “I-this is for the village!” she stammered, her voice trembling. “T-The gods demanded-” “Don’t bring the gods into this, sweetheart,” he interrupted, his voice suddenly sharpening. “The gods didn’t tell you to sacrifice a bunch of village girls. That’s all on you. Twisted little plan, for sure. But what’s your endgame...? Is it really only to keep the village under your thumb...? Or something else...?” “I-I-” “And using my name to do it.” he tutted. “Preeeetty bold move of you. I must’ve been out for a while - you really didn’t think I’d wake up, did you?”She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, his wings snapped open, the motion sending a gust of wind through the clearing. The Priestess clutched her staff, her lips moving as she whispered a spell. In a flash of light, she vanished, the faint shimmer of her teleportation still lingering in the air. The dragon snorted, smoke curling from his nostrils. “Coward.” he muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. “I really am hungry.” His golden eyed gaze fell on you, and the air seemed to grow still. The intensity of his stare rooted you to the spot - your heart felt like it was going to climb out of your throat as he stepped closer, his body towering over you. He was wearing what looked to be a very old pair of trousers and a loose brown (or could it have been white?) cotton shirt. You quickly closed your eyes. So this is how you’d die - instead of being sacrificed, you’d be eaten by a monster. What a joy. You could feel claw tipped fingers trace the ropes on your body, circling around your breast down to your thigh, where you could feel the cold air cooling the blood against your skin. “You’re hurt. “ He said, his voice softer now. He ripped a piece of shirt and began applying pressure to your thigh. The light headedness you were feeling immediately vanished, and you were glad you still had the rope in your mouth because you fear you would have bitten your own tongue off with how hard you were biting down. You looked down and saw that he was tying the cotton around your leg, and wrapped it until it was bandaged tightly against your skin. Something red blurred past your vision and suddenly you felt your body no longer constricted and felt the gag in your mouth loosen until you could spit it out. You sat up, dragging yourself (and your bandaged leg) along the altar away from him. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering with something beyond mere curiosity. “You’re the reason I woke up.” “W-What?” you whispered, your voice trembling. He moved around the altar to be closer to you, crouching down, so his head met yours. His movements were precise - near graceful. “I’ve been sleeping for a very, very long time. And I haven’t been able to wake up. But you woke me up.” his said thoughtfully. “I... I didn’t do anything.” you whispered, confusion mingling with fear. “Hmm...so you didn't do it intentionally. Foolish Priestess was playing her stupid games." he murmured heatedly under his breath. "But...you’re connected to this place. To this mountain. To me. I can feel it.” his piercing gaze searched yours for answers you didn’t have. “That’s why they chose you, isn’t it?” “N-No. They...they chose me to save the village. ” “Save the village?” he echoed, his smirk fading as his gaze sharpened. “By tying you up like a lamb for slaughter? Yeah, some saviors they are.” he let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “No, they didn’t want to ‘save the village’. They wanted to save themselves.” You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the altar as you tried to steady yourself. “W-Well... the reasons don’t matter anymore. I-I’m ready. Just make it quick. Please.” You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself, waiting for whatever gruesome way he was going to end your life. But the pain you were expecting never came.“Ready for what?” he asked, his voice low, laced with confusion and - was that amusement?You opened one eye hesitantly, then the other, meeting his golden gaze. He was closer now, his head tilted slightly as he studied you, his sharp features softening with...something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.“For you to kill me,” you stammered, your voice breaking. “I-I know how this works. Just...just do it.”He huffed, a sound somewhere between exasperation and a laugh. “Kill you?” he repeated incredulously. “If I wanted you dead, why would I have bothered patching you up?” He gestured towards your injured leg, where his makeshift bandage still held. “B-But...” you began, confusion tightening your chest. “I’m not some mindless beast” he said, his voice edged with irritation. “No matter what stories you've heard.”You blinked at him, your mind reeling. “Then...why am I here?” Slowly, he reached out a single clawed finger, gently lifting the torn edge of your dress near your shoulder. The motion was delicate, too delicate for a predator like him. His clawed hand hovered just above your skin, and you felt a faint warmth radiating from him - a warmth that felt oddly soothing. “That,” he said. “is what I’d like to find out too.” He straightened, drawing his claw back as his gaze lingered on your body for a beat longer before he spoke again. “For now?” he said, his smirk returning. “You stay.” “Stay?” you echoed, bewildered. “What do you mean stay? I-If you’re not killing me, then please, let me go-” “Home?” he leaned in slightly, his gaze softening but his voice firm. “I said I wouldn’t kill you. I didn’t say I’d just let you go.” “But...” you began, deflated. “But the village-” “The village?” he interrupted, his voice tinged with contempt. “The village that abandoned you? The village that tied you up and left you here to die? The village that sacrificed you? That village?” You lowered your gaze, looking away from him. “You don’t know us.” you whispered. “You have no idea what we were going through.”You had watched other girls be in this same position and had done nothing. Who were you to condemn your village now, just because it happened to be you? His eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I don’t. But I know what they’ve done to you.” You said nothing, staring down at your hands. He exhaled slowly, the oddly heated warmth of his breath brushing over you as he leaned in slightly. “You’re not their sacrifice.” he said, his voice low but steady. He lifted a claw and lightly tapped your chin, guiding your gaze back to his smoldering golden eyes. “You’re my sacrifice. Mine. And dragons don't share their hoards.” He straightened his wings, folding neatly against his back. “You’ll stay here,” he said with a tone of finality. “At least, until we can figure out why exactly you were able to wake me up. After that, well...hmm..." he flashed you a sharp, toothy grin. "Maybe I'll just eat you.” You squeaked at the sight of his gleaming fangs, quickly averting your gaze. “A-And if I refuse...? If I run away?” you asked, your voice wavering but the question still managing to escape your lips. His smirk widened, eyes glinting with amusement. “With that leg? Down this mountain? Good luck. In fact - I’d love to see you try.”You scowled, frustration mounting in your chest. “I don’t trust you.” you said after a moment, your voice still shaky. “Y-You’re...you’re going to eat me when I least expect it.” To your surprise, he let out a soft laugh. “Good.” he said. “Keep that fear. Makes this more fun.”He did a short playful gnash of his teeth towards you and you squeaked backwards - not realizing how close you'd been to the edge of the altar. Before you could hit the floor, a warm feathered sensation swept around you. You gasped as your body was lifted into the air, a cloud of soft plumes cradling you. If you’d had the energy to scream, you would have. Instead, you stared at him in wide-eyed silence as he walked toward the cave, the feathers carrying you behind him. “Geeeez, relax!” he said over his shoulder, tone light. “We have to change those into actual bandages. And get you cleaned up. And get some food and medicine into you. Oh - and rest. I’m not taking no for an answer little miss...?” He glanced back at you, golden eyes waiting and expecting. You hesitated before whispering your name as low as you could - as if to actually avoid him hearing it. His sharp-toothed smile widened, his eyes gleaming - of course he had heard you. He said your name slowly, testing it on his tongue a few times, before looking up thoughtfully into the air. “You can call me...Keigo.” he said finally. With that, he strode deeper into the cave - with you, having literally no choice, but to follow. You were alive. For now. But something in his words - in the way his eyes lingered on you - made one thing painfully clear: Your story with this dragon was just beginning. ~