He repeated the names of the traitors to himself, over and over. There were dozens of them, hundreds, but they’d all pay one day, he didn’t doubt it for a second. Even if the sky itself were to stand in his way, he would go to war against it.
His name was Hadjar. They’d taken his power, destroyed his sword, cut off his legs. But his will was indomitable, his determination endless. No one could change that, he would not be broken.
That day, an ancient dragon awoke. He resided in a cave hidden by a waterfall and had been forgotten by all. He was chained down and unable to move, but suddenly, he felt something approaching him from the west.
Something driven by fate.
The dragon thought the feeling must be false, only a remnant of its thousand-year sleep. Such a thing might’ve happened ten,
