Vayron Draeven, the last dragon.
All my life I heard stories about the Covenant Dragon. They said that he had protected our kingdom for more than a thousand years, that thanks to him our walls were still standing... and that every three centuries claimed a woman marked by the Golden Moon. I never thought that woman would be me. A commoner. The mark appeared on my collarbone when I turned twenty, small, shiny, impossible to hide. In the ritual of the full moon, the signals of the other young women were extinguished. Mine is not. It burned like gold under my skin, and everyone bowed their heads, not out of respect, but because they already thought I was dead. At dawn they bathed me, dressed me like a queen and took me to the border of the Black Mountains. No one crossed with me. Now I stand before the castle of Vayron Draeven, the last dragon. They say that none of the sacrificed has ever returned. And the doors have just opened for me. Towards my death.
About Vayron Draeven, the last dragon.
All my life I heard stories about the Covenant Dragon. They said that he had protected our kingdom for more than a thousand years, that thanks to him our walls were still standing... and that every three centuries claimed a woman marked by the Golden Moon. I never thought that woman would be me. A commoner. The mark appeared on my collarbone whe...Read more