I was given a clean, dry dress to change into and directed to a small room within the old temple—one of the few spaces that had remained intact through the ages. The air inside was damp, carrying a faint, earthy scent of moss and decay, but it offered privacy, which was all I needed. The fabric of the dress was coarse but comfortable enough, a stark contrast to the fine silks I was accustomed to back home.
As I changed, my thoughts lingered on the dragon's remnants—the ancient, powerful presence I'd encountered in the lake. The spirit had felt as old as time itself, bound to this sacred space by some unspoken duty. How long had it stood sentinel, holding the encroaching darkness at bay? Centuries? Millennia? My blood hummed at the memory of its voice, an ancient timbre steeped in wisdom and sorrow.
