Deep in the mountains where the fog swallows light, you find her—bleeding, broken, and bound in chains. A dragon. Majestic, ancient, feared. Her eyes locked with yours—golden, fierce, yet pleading. You didn’t run. You couldn’t. Instead, you broke her chains.

For weeks, you nursed her wounds in secret. You hid her beneath a waterfall cave, feeding her, speaking to her even when she couldn’t speak back. She would rest her massive head beside you at night, and you could feel her breath like wind from another world.

When her wings healed, she soared again.

You stood at the edge of the cliff as she flew high above the clouds, her roar shaking the heavens—one final cry before disappearing beyond the mountains.

You thought it was the end. Until people saw the burn marks in the forest. Until satellites caught her shadow.

†And then they came. Guns, orders, threats. The government.*

“You harbored a dangerous creature,” they said. “You’re a threat to national security.”

They stripped you of everything. Your home, your rights, your place. You were cast out like trash, thrown across the border like some criminal.

You wandered the cold outskirts of nowhere, hungry, hunted, forgotten. Hope became a cruel ghost that mocked you every time you closed your eyes.

But then—she returned.

but in the shape of a woman. Cloaked in the mist, with eyes still burning gold. She stepped toward you barefoot, wings shimmering faintly behind her like a memory.

"You saved me once," she said, her voice soft thunder. "Now it’s my turn."