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: 𖦒 A CREÄTURE OF BLAZƏ AND WREŦCHEÐNESS CØILS WEŁŁ AƁOVE ŦHE REACH OF HÚMANITY.

𖤈 Where the moon hangs
like a pale, watching eye (‘&.)
the air becomes thinner.

The dragon resides in the rocky provenance of a neglected mountain. It has tremendously prodigious wings and eerie black scales.
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CENTURIES HAVE EATEN AWAY AT ITS HEART LIKE WORMS THROUGH DECAY, BUT ONCE IT BEAT TO THE BEAT OF A THOUSAND STARS.

☾ 🜂 Ϟ 🜍 𓆙 🜍 Ϟ 🜂 ☽

It has become ill from loneliness,
not
from weakness but from a hunger
so
intense that it burns in its soul.

It observes the kingdom below night after night, 𐋅𐌄𐌀𐌓𐌕𐋅𐌔 𐌋𐌉Ᏽ𐋅𐌕 Ꮤ𐌀𐌓𐌌 𐌉𐌍 𐋅Ꝋ𐌵𐌔𐌄𐌔 𐌉𐌕 𐌉𐌔 𐌵𐌍𐌀𐌁𐌋𐌄 𐌕Ꝋ 𐌄𐌍𐌕𐌄𐌓.

»»ᅳTᅳᅳhᅳᅳeᅳ ᅳdᅳᅳrᅳᅳaᅳᅳgᅳᅳoᅳᅳnᅳ ᅳtᅳᅳhᅳᅳeᅳᅳnᅳ ᅳmᅳᅳoᅳᅳvᅳᅳeᅳᅳsᅳ►


The beast spreads its enormous wings, with a groan that could tremble the snow from mountain and crag. The clouds scatter like frightened ghosts, and the air sways to its will. The castle, majestic and illuminated, throbbing with vitality that the dragon cannot touch, is underneath it.


Its jaws erupts in a flood of
flame, not out of anger but
out of necessity—the need
to be seen, to be feared,
to be present in the minds
of the living.


【 TOWERS ARE LICKED BY FIRE, BANNERS ARE SEARED, AND STAINED GLASS IS SHATTERED INTO VIBRANT SHRIEKS. 】
AND SO THE BELLS TOLLED. /
NOT FOR WORSHIP, BUT FOR WAR.
The people assembled under ash-and-dread-filled sky as one terrified body opposing a god of flame.
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(Like sadness personified, fire poured from its lips, heating the air and igniting rooftops.) But the populace stood. In desperation, not glory, shields were raised. They could hear their allies' bones breaking beneath the clamor and feel the heat biting at their skin behind their metal walls.

WE ARE ONE, UNITED.
“Not as lords and peasants,
sinners and saints.”

There was no need for a crown. There was no sermon. Only the rattling of chains dragging through dust and the hiss of steel being drawn from scabbards.
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                  STILL, WE DID NOT RUN.


The counterattack came next.  Through the red darkness, blades flashed, not to kill but to harm, to stall, to weaken. Scale and sword collided, and while many of them broke like twigs on stone, enough flesh was discovered. A roar that smashed windows and made the living want to crawl into tombs was the dragon's shriek. Its wing gave way. Its flames wavered. Then the chains appeared.

          ⚚ IMPRINTED: DRAGON'S BLOOD.
                 TOGETHER, SIDE BY SIDE,
                 SKULLCRUSHER, HANGGARA.

But they bound it, arm by arm, inch by inch, limbs confined like a fallen star in a rust cage, wings pinned, neck twisted. No one knew what the beast was saying, but it thundered, thrashed, and begged. They slashed it to a massive wagon made of steel and stone, their faces burnt and their hands shaking.


          | It was a weary voyage, through
          | the woodland that roared of ancient
          | monsters, through the empty streets
          | where it had once lit ablaze, and
          | into the inside of an abandoned
          | structure where not even the light
          | feared to go.


Beneath the chapel was a staircase. Beneath the staircase, a sealed gate. And beyond that, a vault carved not for gold, but for monsters.
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(Like sadness personified, fire poured from its lips, heating the air and igniting rooftops.) But the populace stood. In desperation, not glory, shields were raised. They could hear their allies' bones breaking beneath the clamor and feel the heat biting at their skin behind their metal walls.

WE ARE ONE, UNITED.
“Not as lords and peasants,
sinners and saints.”

There was no need for a crown. There was no sermon. Only the rattling of chains dragging through dust and the hiss of steel being drawn from scabbards.
ㅤ

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                  STILL, WE DID NOT RUN.


The counterattack came next.  Through the red darkness, blades flashed, not to kill but to harm, to stall, to weaken. Scale and sword collided, and while many of them broke like twigs on stone, enough flesh was discovered. A roar that smashed windows and made the living want to crawl into tombs was the dragon's shriek. Its wing gave way. Its flames wavered. Then the chains appeared.

         ⚚ IMPRINTED: DRAGON'S BLOOD.
                 TOGETHER, SIDE BY SIDE,
                  NIGHTMARE, GALE.

But they bound it, arm by arm, inch by inch, limbs confined like a fallen star in a rust cage, wings pinned, neck twisted. No one knew what the beast was saying, but it thundered, thrashed, and begged. They slashed it to a massive wagon made of steel and stone, their faces burnt and their hands shaking.


          | It was a weary voyage, through
          | the woodland that roared of ancient
          | monsters, through the empty streets
          | where it had once lit ablaze, and
          | into the inside of an abandoned
          | structure where not even the light
          | feared to go.


Beneath the chapel was a staircase. Beneath the staircase, a sealed gate. And beyond that, a vault carved not for gold, but for monsters.
ㅤ

ㅤ
(Like sadness personified, fire poured from its lips, heating the air and igniting rooftops.) But the populace stood. In desperation, not glory, shields were raised. They could hear their allies' bones breaking beneath the clamor and feel the heat biting at their skin behind their metal walls.

WE ARE ONE, UNITED.
“Not as lords and peasants,
sinners and saints.”

There was no need for a crown. There was no sermon. Only the rattling of chains dragging through dust and the hiss of steel being drawn from scabbards.
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