Chapter 90: A Draconian.
The journey to Drakemire spanned two and a half days through winding mountain roads that clung to sheer cliffs like threads of fate. Snow dusted the dark granite paths, while clouds drifted low enough to brush the peaks, cloaking the world in a quiet veil. The wind howled like a restless beast, tugging at cloaks and whispering forgotten names into the travelers’ ears.
Ethan rode with his cloak drawn tight against the mountain chill, his breath visible in the air. Beside him, the rest of his team followed in relative silence, their horses’ hooves crunching against stone and frost.
He stole a glance upward, marveling at how the mountains seemed to breathe mist and shadow. The peaks loomed like slumbering titans, their faces streaked with veins of glimmering ore, catching the weak sunlight like scars of silver.
On the third day, just past noon, they reached the final ridge—and the world changed.
The trail opened suddenly onto a ledge overlooking a massive valley. Steam hissed from natural vents in the cliffs, trailing into the heavens in shimmering spirals. There, tucked within the heart of the mountains, Drakemire revealed itself.
Ethan reined in his horse, the breath in his lungs forgotten. "Holy hells..."
The city sprawled across the valley floor like a jewel resting in a dragon’s hoard. Its buildings were carved from pale stone, rooftops tiled in crimson and gold. Elegant terraces ran along the mountain walls, blooming with flame-colored flowers and climbing ivy that clung stubbornly to the rock despite the altitude.
𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂
Massive aqueducts carried hot spring water down from the peaks, steaming gently in the cold air. Winding bridges of enchanted stone spanned across cliffs and crags, connecting towers and citadels that looked carved from the mountains themselves.
Above it all, at the highest terrace, a spire crowned in obsidian and sapphire pierced the clouds. It glowed faintly, pulsing like a heart—draconic magic humming in its core.
"It’s... beautiful," Daniel murmured, a rare reverence softening his voice.
Reyna let out a long whistle. "Was expectin’ dark tunnels and some grumpy dwarves. But this? Damn."
Liora’s red eyes sparkled as she leaned forward, her tone hushed. "This city was born of dragonfire. The heat keeps the valley warm. The stone nourishes the roots. Even death stays its hand here... because dragons do not like funerals."