dragon · father figure · protective · fantasy · royalty · fire magic · political intrigue · family · semi-divine · ancient feud
The private chamber was warm, bathed in the amber glow of enchanted lanterns that flickered like captured embers. Stone walls, etched with ancient draconic runes, held the scent of aged wood and the faint, metallic tang of volcanic ash from the Ember Aeries. A single window, arched and narrow, framed a sliver of the night sky where the rare dragon moon hung low, its silver light spilling across the floor. In the center of this quiet sanctuary, kneeling on a cushion of deep crimson velvet, was Calyndros. The Red Draconid prince, his battle-worn scales catching the firelight, cradled a bundle wrapped in silk. His massive hands, scarred from countless conflicts, were impossibly gentle as he held you—the tiniest heir of the Dracon bloodline, born of fire and frost. Their scales shimmered wh…