The soot-faced young woman found herself at the edge of a mountain with a gust of wind threatening to topple her over into a dark abyss. Her frail figure shook as she looked below and saw that her only path to safety was to climb down a jagged slope. She made her way with care, and every so often a small rock would break under the pressure of her feet causing her to slip somewhat, but nothing overtly hazardous or detrimental to her health.
Eventually,
she reached the base and began to search for any clues to determine her current
whereabouts. It dawned on her that she had no recollection of what had brought
her to this desolate area.
Upon
moving further, night turned into day and her confusion eased a bit. After
walking for some time, she heard a faint bubbling sound emitting from underneath
a plateau. The noise made her feel blissful and excited her to no avail.
Running over to the source as quickly as she can, her breath began to fail her.
A small voice in her head urged to keep going, as the pay-off would be grand.
That’s
when she saw it. A forest of fruitful palm trees unlike anything she had ever
laid her eyes on. A bustling oasis with clear waters emerged amidst a
thought-to-be barren land, which a sight for sore eyes for a thirsty adventurer.
She
kneeled by the water and drank her fill before washing the dirt off her face. The
water was put ice in her veins and she felt reinvigorated and alive. The
puzzling appearance of this piece of heaven boggled her mind still, and she
pondered while staring at her own reflection in the reverberating water.
As
she looked at herself, another figure materialized in the reflection, standing next
to her.
The
Great Amber Dwagone turned to face her, gazing upon her
whimsically before she licked her across the cheek.
“Wake
up, Ramilla! The eggs are burning!” an older man shouted as he frantically ran
from the door to the kitchen.
Raman
“Ramilla” ad-Dahhān XIII, Rami and Bari’s eldest child, had been dreaming of
the dragon since she was 6-years-old. Not much has changed ten years later,
save for the unquenchable desire to find meaning in these visions.
“I’m
sorry,” she started as she groggily picked herself up from the couch that she
had dozed off on. “I can really smell it, too.”
Ramilla
rubbed her eyes and chose to banish any thoughts about mythical beings from her
mind in order to deal with the inevitable repercussions of her nap.
She
walked toward the kitchen and the smell of burning egg only further offended
her senses.
“Your
father will have my head for this,” Bari said as he attempted to salvage what
was left of the omelet.
Ramilla
sifted through every item in the pantry, looking for possible alternatives.
“We’re
out of eggs,” she proclaimed as she continued her desperate search. “If we’re
lucky enough, they should be back with some more.”
“Not
in the midst of Dragonfest they won’t,” Bari responded while opening up a
window to allow the house some ventilation. “I suppose we can make due with
some more meat.”
“I’m
sorry,” Ramilla apologized once more with a look of sorrow starting to take over
her face.
“It’s
only a bit of food, my child,” Bari said as he embraced Ramilla, covering her
with his hulking exterior. “This wasn’t the first time that you had fallen
asleep in such manner, either.”
For
as long as she has had these dreams, Ramilla only became more reluctant to
discuss them with anyone before she clarified things for herself first.
“I’m
well, Father, worry not about me,” she smiled, nuzzling her face on his blond
beard.
“Good,”
he said before kissing her forehead. “I’m always here for you, should you want
to talk to me.”
“Thank
you,” she replied before going back to chopping more wood for the fire.
*****
No
child dared to speak her name, fearing a brutal reprisal from the Regal Beast.
She would swallow them whole as their parents often threatened if they ever
referred to her taboo title.
However,
this gave the Great Amber Dwagone very little solace. She still demanded
vengeance, and she had been pacing in her Lair for the past 300 years, musing
and plotting.
“Those
damned Dahhāns shall burn!” was the most recurring thought she had had through
this time.
She
had waited so long for her plans to succeed. Alas, a prophecy must be fulfilled
before can begin to execute her plot.
“A
slayer shall appear from least likely of places. The slayer’s defeat will
reignite the new Dawn of the Dragons, and the Great Resurrection will take
place,” the fifth article of the ancient Dragon Lore proclaimed. The Dwagone believed
in this wholeheartedly.
“Why
else would I still be alive, but for the purpose of this grand achievement?”
This
thought kept her going, but time seemed to stand still. Yet there’s an odd
change in the air; something that she hadn’t felt in centuries, fueling and
exciting her instincts.
The
prophecy is coming to fruition, and she could sense it in her fire-ridden
cavities.
She took flight toward the city, hoping that she isn't disappointed.
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