The night had shrouded the Palace of Blazing Fangs in a thick veil, imbued with an almost mystical silence. Sleep, usually peaceful and dreamless, seemed to stubbornly refuse to welcome Elystria into its comforting embrace. Lying on an immense bed, surrounded by black velvet curtains and silver embroidered pillows, the dragon princess tossed and turned slowly, caught in a strange state between wakefulness and sleep.
A cold sweat slowly beaded on her scaly skin, mingling with the stifling heat that permeated her chamber, fed by the magical braziers that burned perpetually. Her eyelids finally grew heavy, and Elystria finally sank into a restless sleep.
Almost immediately, she plunged into a vision, a reality so sharp, so precise, that it seemed more real than the real world itself.
