Nathan met the dragon's burning eyes without blinking, then he gave a single nod.
The throne room melted away as his mind trailed away from his physical body.
Nathan stood in an endless field of tall, golden grass beneath a sky of flawless, impossible blue. Mirko stood at his right, dressed instead in simple, elegant white linen. Kuro stood at his left, her shadow-daggers absent, her dark hair falling loosely around her shoulders.
They were standing inside a memory. One that did not belong to them.
Looming before them was Vorlagrath. But this was not the tattered, exhausted king on a throne of bone. This was Vorlagrath in his absolute prime. His scales were a blinding, unmarred crimson and gold. His wings were flawless, powerful sails of muscle and membrane. His eyes were bright, fierce, and brimming with life.
