In a time lost to time itself…
The green gray rain continues to fall, acidic in the core of every raindrop it falls with the charged power of his father's fury. His skin burns with it, with the sudden attack his father had launched upon him. Domirr revels in the fall of his only surviving firstborn son, lifting his foot to crush the fallen youth's cheek beneath his sole, pushing him further into the softened earth.
"How dare you?" He hisses in the dragon tongue, the words fumbling with venom. "How dare you – live?"
Spots of black and metallic green dances along the edges of Keirr's vision, the world sliding in and out of focus. The power of Domirr, much greater and much more demonic than his own, cultivated over a period of hundred years or more, burns him. That pain is only a phantom, a thought in his head created by the monster above him, the thought that poisons his head and turns his own body against him, burning, burning and more.
