Rising god

The Dragon’s Pit was a labyrinth of shadow and stone, its cavernous depths illuminated by flickering veins of luminescent crystal embedded in the walls. The air thrummed with latent draconic energy, a pulse that seemed to vibrate through the very earth.

Smallfoot stood at the center of a vast chamber, her human form diminutive yet resolute before two towering dragons, their scales glinting like molten fire in the dim light. Behind them, a cluster of smaller dragons shifted restlessly, their eyes glowing with anticipation.

Smallfoot’s transformation, catalyzed by Baines’s teachings, had not only restored her heritage but also granted her the ability to communicate with her kin in their ancient tongue, a gift that elevated her status among them.

Her attempts to teach the thought-conversation method to the others had failed. Yet, her unique connection to Baines, their potential savior, and her newfound ability to bridge the clan’s fractured communication cemented her importance.

The two massive dragons before her were no ordinary beasts; they were descendants of Lady Darka’s royal guards, second only to the family head in power. Even with her reclaimed legacy, Smallfoot bowed her head in deference, her posture a blend of respect and quiet pride.

The conversation began in the silent, resonant language Tasha had helped rediscover, a telepathic exchange that vibrated through the chamber.

-What did he ask in return?

The largest dragon, its voice a deep rumble in her mind, fixed its amber eyes on her.

Smallfoot’s gaze dropped, her voice heavy with reluctance. "He wants Lady Darka’s lair."

-Outrageous!

The second dragon’s thought roared through the chamber, its scales bristling with indignation. The smaller dragons behind them hissed, their collective displeasure a low, menacing chorus.