Warm and dark. 

Memories of when he was but a child submerging himself in the tub, the heated water right from the fireplace all encompassing.

It'd have been better if he didn't feel the sudden need to breath. He struggled from within the confined space, a burning sensation rose up in his throat like acid. Through still closed eyes, he was suddenly blinded while he took a strong, powerful breath out. 

The wall of the space finally broke, falling to pieces as he fell to what was the floor, his limbs weak and eyes struggling to open. 

When they finally did however, the first thing his eyes fell upon was the face of a fellow dragon looking down on him. 

The dragon was covered in scars, his grey scales making him harder to see in the dim room. Though his piercing green eyes stared back at him, shining through the dimness. As large as an elephant, his body and limbs were thick with muscle, two large, scaly wings protruded from his back. He was the spitting image of the stereotypical western dragon.

Obranask.

Despite his body's current troubles, his thoughts were surprisingly clear. Though at times it felt like almost someone else was speaking.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention as one of the other figures approached. Two symmetrical horns that were a deep shade of purple adorned her head, protruding up from her short dark hair. Her arms from the elbows up were scaly as well as everything from the knees down, large leathery wings sprouted from her back as she approached. She wore skimpy looking armor, if one could even call it that, it was more akin to metal underwear. Her features were sharp, giving her an air of cunning, fitting for a demon. 

Vemoura.

From her lips came words that he couldn't hear yet. Another figure approached, although stopping a little behind Vemoura and leaning from behind her to peak at him. 

She was an elf, something obvious from the long pointed ears that peeked out from behind her long red hair. A perfectly straight scar ran across her right cheek. She wore a leather cuirass and had a short sword around her waist, a bow in her back, plain and simple adventurer gear. 

Delath.

The final figure approached, her immaculate armor and almost golden hair shined in the light. An intricate gold and silver tiara rested on her head, similarly in her hand was a intertwining silver and wood staff, at its peak was a large, beautifully cut teal crystal. For a demigod her gear felt both impressive and minimalist. 

Ashiielwyn.

With an outstretched hand she touched his head, the warm sensation somehow seeping through his new, nigh impervious scales. 

"Sleep." 

---------------------

"He is... A lot smaller than I thought he was." The older dragon commented while ripping a leg off a cow he brought back to the cave. His hulking body that was the size of a house blocked half of the entire cave entrance.

"I mean he's just a baby right now isn't he? With how big he is already he'll probably be a giant!" Delath was tending to the campfire in the cave, keeping an eye on the fish on a stick roasting over the fire.

"No, Greater Dragons are reborn mostly fully grown. He'll grow slightly larger but that is all, just look at the size of his egg compared to him, its almost twice as large."  Ashiielwyn, the far older of the two elves added, having lived through almost all previous dragonfalls. She sat on a vine that she had summoned up through the ground. 

"True, very true. Of course, there is a Greater Dragon that is even smaller that is still more than worthy of her title." Vemoura added, carelessly picking at her long, sharp nails. Looking behind herself, she stared at the sleeping dragon laying on the ground, his long, sleek body curling around himself. 

"Naturally," Obranask added, "Greater Dragons are always exceptional beings, no matter their flaws."

Ashiielwyn glanced at the reborn being before commenting, "I have a good feeling about this one. He seems like a kind man."

The dragon snorted, "Ha! Hardly, no Greater Dragon is a purely kind soul, at best, he'll be like Utuanzo and Suilojin, and leave people be should they not bother him." 

"I'm sorry, the hell's do you mean Suilojin leaves people alone?! She sinks plenty of ships every year that even make their way to deeper waters." Delath asked incredulously.

"Just the biggest ones!" Obranask gave a deep, hearty laugh at the mortals expense.

Ashiielwyn cleared her throat, "Don't forget, Nektos' minions do that as well, and far more often." 

The demoness groaned, "That old God of the sea has killed many people with his beasts who were trying to travel to different lands, as well as more than a few demons who snuck on board trying to get into those lands." 

"What, no portals ever open up in Kaldgrim or Ixtacotak?" Obranask asked.

"No one to preform the rituals needed to open them, those lands have their own darknesses, and they don't like others poaching." She said through a sigh. 

"Your forgetting Mizuchi."

All four of them turned their head toward the voice. A black dragon a few feet taller than a horse stood on long, shaky limbs. His sinuous body was a strange sight compared to the rigid, thick bodies the more common dragons of Andor had. Two grey, backwards pointing horns adorned his sharp, long face. His surprisingly large wings dragged along the ground as he came forward. 

Then he stumbled. 

He landed on his chin in front of the fire, letting out a bit of air from his lungs as he did so. He instantly began to sleep once more.

The four of them stared in silence at the Greater Dragon, said silence only being broken when Delath asked, "The fucks a Mizuchi?" 

Ashiielwyn lightly smacked her in the gut with the back of her hand, "Language."