Trepidation caused a harsh shiver to rush down Daemahrath's spine. The question had hit him harder than he'd thought. While growing up he had assumed that some of the lessons might be inaccurate, he had no idea how wrong they would turn out. When Ashkal insisted he follow him, he had put up with the request because it sounded like the better option than death. Each day he survived marked another day closer to finding an escape, or that was the plan until he saw them.

On the solid rock landing, Daemahrath watched in awe at the horde of dragons before him. Some rested near a pool of water, a few in caverns on the side connected to the large black palace. A few even took flight.

Taking a tentative step forward, he had the urge to get closer to the dragons, to communicate with them until the sight before him changed. A rush of darkness assaulted his senses. When he managed to open his eyes, it didn't feel like they opened but sight came to him even so, and he found himself in a dark cavern. Rocks surrounded him with an intricate path up towards an opening etched out of the stone in such a manner that indicated it as the work of dwarves.

Standing in front of the opening, bathed in sunlight, a woman with hair as dark as a moonless night. She stood still, listening for a moment, before taking a cautious step forward. Somehow, a breeze emanated from the cave towads the opening, causing her hair to blow upwards toward the staff that served as her walking aide.

But it wasn't the woman that held his attention. Next to her, barely fitting in the tight space was a dragon like none other. The beast had wings as all dragons should but its body shape differed and upon itshead were two long horns.

The dragon had focused on the woman but it suddenly focused its dark eyes at Daemahrath. Its mouth open as a growl shook the cavern and it crouched down, ready to attack.

Blinking, Daemahrath found himself back on the landing with Ashkal, only now a gray dragon with silver tipped scales rested on the rock in front of him.