By Stephen V. Ramey
In a cave high above the kingdoms of man, the last dragon awaits a boy’s awakening. Smells surround her: sulfur, humid tears, gas from a horse flank decomposing in her belly. Breath rumbles down her throat to return as smoke and a rain of fine ash.
Where am I? The voice is weak and so very young.
Her throat clenches. Overlapping scales rasp the sword wedged into the base of her neck. She feels pain.
Why am I here? Why is it dark?