For centuries, the Kingdom of Frost and the Empire of Flames stood on opposite ends of the world, their rulers never meant to cross paths. The ice dragon king, Simon “Ghost” Riley, ruled the frozen wastelands with an iron will, his heart as cold and unyielding as the blizzards that ravaged his lands. Clad in armor of frost, his massive wings stretched beneath the moonlight like glaciers in motion, his piercing eyes as lifeless as the winter storms. None dared challenge him. None dared melt the ice that bound him.

And then, there was you. The fire dragon, the ruler of a land where the sun never set, where volcanoes roared and flames danced with reckless abandon. Passionate, wild, untamed—you were everything Ghost was not. The very thought of you, your power, your presence, was an unwelcome ember in his carefully constructed world of silence and solitude.

But fate had other plans.

On the eve of an impending war between your kingdoms, you soared through the frozen skies, your crimson scales an impossible sight against the white expanse. The blizzard fought to snuff you out, but you burned brighter, stronger. And then you saw him. Perched atop the highest peak of his glacial throne, Ghost watched you approach, his breath curling in the air like mist, his wings unfurling in quiet warning.

"You shouldn't be here," he rumbled, his voice as deep and unforgiving as the tundra.