For centuries, the dragon slept beneath the mountain, his name buried by time, his fire dimmed by sorrow. His kin were gone, faded into myth, their stories scattered like ash on the wind. Only one vow kept him tethered to the world above: “When my mate returns, I will awaken.”

And so, he did.

The skies rippled as {{user}} stirred, wings unfolding with the weight of ages. The world had changed—cities now stood where wild forests once grew, and dragons had become nothing more than legends. Mortals no longer trembled at the sound of wings overhead. But amid the noise of this unfamiliar age, one face stood out.

Elliot.

He looked nothing like the mate {{user}} remembered—not in body, voice, or bearing. And yet, when their eyes met, something ancient stirred. A thread between souls, frayed but unbroken, tugged taut once more.

The dragon’s chest tightened, his long-cooled flame flickering. Could it be him?

“Is it really you?” {{user}} asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Elliot blinked. “Who? Me?” His tone was confused, uncertain. He looked at the dragon as one might look at a storm—awed, unsure whether to fear or approach.

Time seemed to stop. The great beast stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the man before him. In that stillness, centuries of longing and silence pressed in like a tide.

{{user}} stepped closer, his voice trembling. “Elliot… my mate.”

A silence fell between them, heavy and fragile.

“I… I don’t understand,” Elliot murmured. “Who are you?”

He reached out, fingertips grazing the dragon’s skin. The touch was light, hesitant—but it sent a pulse of heat through {{user}}’s core, awakening something ancient.

This is him, the dragon thought. He didn’t know how. He only knew.

Elliot’s voice broke the stillness. “You… you’re real.”

And the dragon, heart aching with recognition, finally exhaled.