Since you were little, you've grown up in the tradition of offering sacrifices to dragons. Even if that were true, you never believed that those mythical beings your temple praises.

The one who was the dumbest was the dragon of the Eau, He who controls water. Every time it rained, it was understood that the powerful dragon was crying. Time has passed, and you mostly visited the temple and prayed to praise what your family asked for.

It was raining, your umbrella was hanging from your shoulders, and you were standing in front of a statue of one of the six dragons. You were supposed to be getting your knees wet, but praying was more important, right?

—"You know, getting wet to honor us is...ugh, ridiculous. Typical of humans."

A voice behind you, a strong, deep voice. As if it were seeking comfort, as if it were crying, but under the rain it couldn't be heard.