Betrayals of flame

Arren trudged down the mountain, his muscles aching from the long climb and the weight of two boars slung over his shoulder. The wind had picked up, biting at his face as he made his way through the craggy terrain. The snow beneath his boots crunched with every step, a constant reminder of the harshness of the winter. His breath came out in visible puffs, mixing with the mist that hung in the cold air.

Despite the weight of his burden, Arren's thoughts wandered. He had been hunting in the highlands for days, tracking game in the dense snowdrifts, but something about this particular hunt felt different. There had been an unsettling quiet over the mountains lately, a stillness that seemed to hang in the air, unnerving even the most seasoned hunters. The boars had been harder to track, and the usual signs of wildlife were scarce. It was as if the mountain itself was holding its breath.

As he rounded a bend, his gaze fell upon something strange. Half-buried in the snow near a large boulder was an egg, its shape unlike anything Arren had ever seen. It was enormous, almost as wide as his chest, and its surface was mottled with a strange pattern of pale blue and white. The colors seemed to shimmer in the pale light, as though it had been touched by the cold itself. Arren paused for a moment, his brow furrowing as he looked around. How could such a thing end up here, so far from any known nests?

He walked toward the egg, his boots crunching on the snow. Kneeling beside it, he reached out with a gloved hand and gently tapped the surface. The egg gave off a strange, hollow sound, as though something inside was stirring. Arren froze, a sense of unease washing over him. What kind of creature could lay an egg this large? And why was it here, abandoned in the snow?

His eyes scanned the surroundings, his instincts kicking in. The landscape looked untouched, save for the egg and a few scattered paw prints leading away from it. The snow was undisturbed, no sign of any predators nearby, no indication of a hunt. But then his gaze landed on something else—a dark opening in the side of the mountain, hidden among a cluster of jagged rocks. A cave.

Arren's curiosity surged, his mind racing. The egg must have rolled out of the cave, but how had it gotten so far from its source? What creature could have left it behind? The questions gnawed at him, pulling him toward the entrance of the cave.

He stood, casting one last glance at the egg before moving toward the cave. His every step was cautious, the weight of the unknown pressing on him. The cave was large, its entrance hidden behind a thick curtain of snow and ice. As he neared, the wind howled through the narrow gap, carrying with it the smell of something ancient and cold. Arren hesitated at the threshold, his senses on high alert. Something about this place felt different, off in a way that he couldn't quite explain.

Stepping inside, Arren's eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. The cave was vast, stretching deep into the mountain. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like frozen daggers, and the ground was uneven, covered in loose stone and sharp rocks. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and ice, but there was something more—something deeper, as if the cave had been carved by forces far older than anything Arren had ever encountered.

He ventured deeper, his boots crunching against the uneven floor, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The further he went, the more the chaos of the cave became apparent. Stone debris was scattered everywhere, broken rocks and shattered boulders that seemed to have been tossed around with great force. It was as if some violent event had occurred, leaving the once-sturdy walls and floor in ruins.

And then, in the center of the cave, Arren saw it.

A nest. A massive, circular mound of broken stones, remnants of old trees, and what looked like the remains of some kind of fur. It was unmistakably a nest, but it was empty. The cold, lifeless air hung heavy around it, and Arren's heart skipped a beat as he realized what it meant. This was the nesting ground of something powerful—something ancient.

His thoughts raced. A winter dragon.

He had heard the stories, of course. The legends of creatures so old and powerful that they were considered the stuff of myth. Dragons of ice and snow, said to dwell in the highest, most unreachable peaks. And here, in this cold, forgotten cave, he had found their home.

But where was the creature itself?

Arren stepped closer to the nest, his gaze sweeping over the remnants of the shattered stone. There were deep claw marks in the rocks, signs of a massive creature's presence. The destruction in the cave wasn't just the result of a random avalanche or rockslide—it was as if the place had been torn apart by something immense, something that could command the very forces of nature.

A low growl echoed through the cave, sending a shiver down Arren's spine. He froze, listening. There it was again, a sound too low to be anything human, too primal to be anything else.

Arren's hand instinctively went to his sword. The growl grew louder, closer. His pulse quickened. Should he flee? Or confront whatever it was? Before he could decide, a figure emerged from the shadows of the cave, its form massive and imposing.

The creature that stepped into the light was a dragon, its scales the color of snow and ice, its wings folded tightly against its body. Its eyes, sharp and bright, fixed on Arren with an intensity that made his heart race. The dragon's breath came in shallow, measured bursts, its body still recovering from whatever battle it had fought in the ruins of the cave. Arren had never seen a creature like it, but one thing was clear—it was no ordinary beast.

He swallowed hard, his mind flashing to Sir Thalric's warnings about the dragons that guarded the mountains. The winter dragon had been protecting the Hezran mountain for centuries, but what had happened to it now? Why was it here, and why had it left its egg behind?

Arren knew one thing for certain: he had to report this to the elders, to Sir Thalric. This was beyond anything he had ever expected to find. And the weight of the discovery was heavy on his shoulders. He had failed in his mission to bring back five boars, but this… this was something far more important.

The dragon's gaze never wavered as Arren turned to leave, knowing that his journey had just become far more complicated than he had ever imagined.