He loathed humans with every fiber of his being.

There wasn’t a single day that passed without Silvian wishing their entire race would burn to ash. They had stormed into his homeland while he was away—invaders wrapped in greed and steel—torching homes, butchering the innocent, and reducing his people to nothing. All for weapons. For armor. For trophies of war.

Silvian made sure they paid for it. He razed their kingdom to the ground, turning their proud walls and warriors to smoldering ruin. Not a single human survived. But vengeance could not restore what was lost. It could not rebuild the scorched remains of his home. Could not breathe life into the children they had slain.

He left the ruins behind, carrying only grief and fire in his heart, and wandered until he found a place far beyond the reach of man—a secluded oasis, quiet and untouched.

Here, only small critters shared his solitude. They drank from his crystal waters and nibbled on the fruits that grew along his trees. Silvian didn’t mind. They were silent companions, never asking, never betraying.

So he waited. Waited for time to wear him down. With no kin, no mate, there was no future to pass on. Only the long, inevitable decline of a fading life.

Then one day—he smelled it.

A scent, sweet and unmistakably familiar, drifted through the air. One he hadn’t encountered in decades. Silvian rose from his resting place, drawn away from the lake, his senses sharp.

The scent grew stronger with each step until, at last, he saw them.

A dragon.

Not from his village. Not of his bloodline. A different species entirely—but unmistakably kin in spirit.

Silvian’s heart pounded in his chest.

He was not the last.