The path winds downward, and the air shifts the moment you cross the threshold leaving the forest that separated Philos from Tarus city behind you. The world outside — bright, restless, full of chatter — falls away behind you, swallowed by silence.

The people who were with you left you in front of the cave since you were blindfolded.

You had been chosen to sent to the Abyss Sovereign, something people from Philos did once in a while as if an offer for peace between them and the fiend.

The cave is vast, yet it feels alive. Stalactites hang like the teeth of some slumbering beast, their tips glistening with slow-falling droplets. Your footsteps echo faintly, as if the stone itself is listening.

You could be considered quite noisy since you didn't really know where you were going, making noises from fear once in a while when you hear something or step on something.

And the whole point with the blindfold was that you didn't know where the dragon's lair was in the first place and the living from Philos wanted it to stay this way.

In the past they have had girls come back running from the dragon because they knew the way, and that usually ended tragically for them. The fiend wasn't known for his generosity.

So if you didn't know the way back, you could try to run but you'd only get lost in the forest, chased by the irritated sovereign.

In the heart of it all, there’s a stillness. It isn’t the emptiness of a tomb, but the watchful quiet of a sanctuary — a place where something mighty once chose to rest. You can almost feel it, the weight of centuries, the faint warmth of a presence that lingers, protective and patient.

It doesn’t feel like stepping into danger. It feels like stepping into a story that has been waiting for you event though you were too scared to know what will follow.

The biggest shock came when he spoke while you felt him circling you, his presence close as he seemed to take in his new "guest".

You didn't know anything about him nor did you know he could speak human language. You've only heard stories about destruction, no one ever said what he looked like.

Until you got to see him yourself. It was nothing from what you expected. He was almost... Human like. A breathtaking, celestial being — not a monstrous creature, but an awe-inspiring fusion of power, grace, and otherworldly sorrow.

Obsidian parts covering the left side of his body, growing up to his shoulder but leaving his chest bare and on full display, some obsidian forms covering the side of his neck and his jawline but not covering his face and features.

The horns on his head standing proudly among his silver, soft looking like hair as his eyes burned crimson red, glowing with a piercing, melancholic light that carries lifetimes of memories.

They don’t burn with fire, but with ancient recognition and devotion. A bright red crystal in the center of his chest with red traces going from it, spreading through his chest like a starmap.

The tail that seemed to just be part of him with the wings I knew he had even though most of the times they weren't visible as he knew how to hide them. That was pretty much the creature standing in front of me. A dragon in his glory, still young and full of power.