A story to rise, a legend must fall.

Wrought in twilight’s somber hue,

Dragon’s heart, a storm did brew.

Pain and venom, shadows cast,

Gigantic wings, in silence vast.

Beneath grey skies, conflict’s trace,

Self-inflicted wounds embrace.

A castle vast, a chamber bare,

He sought escape from venom’s snare.

Scarlet fields, in flight he soared,

To healing waters’ edge he roared.

Submerged within the icy deep,

The dragon finds a cold relief.

Abyssal dark, sweet death entwined,

Tempting fate, his soul resigned.

Yet far and wide, on human’s breath,

They search and pray, to thwart his death.

In twilight’s hold, a tale unfolds,

Of dragon’s heart, and pain untold.

The sky is now indescribably grey, dark clouds mixing with, looking like a lightning storm, yet no sound of thunder. He stands up, realizing how long he has been sleeping; maybe a whole day. No, he's unable to be precise, merely estimating, as basically unconscious after he got bitten by a fire-venom spider until now.

How, how can I… as a mighty dragon, be vanquished by… by an arachnid? 'twas a ?conspiracy, verily, yet I failed to discern...

Pain takes over his mind once again. He feels like fire burning in his chest, not the dragon heartfire oppositely, for it should be comfortably warm, instead which at the moment intolerably pricking of a burning venom. Simultaneously his thought, interwoven with memory and illusion and...

Why should I consort with humankind... The mistake... Had I not committed I wouldn't endure this torment here. What machinations did they employ to coerce me into this alliance? That... is not veracity.

He is utterly disoriented, a consequence of the spider’s venom.

Fortunately, he retains the vigour to assess his condition and scrutinize his environment. This is a castle, of human construction. Distinctively, it lacks furnishings, and the walls are rather high, one towards the east having an enormous window. His chamber, tailored for his occupancy? Wouldn't nail down in the current state, but high opportunity. Upon examining his body, he discerns prominent talon abrasions. The lacerations are incontrovertibly self-inflicted. Robust, sturdy scales have been either wrenched loose or torn asunder, the gashes cleaving deep, and even now, sanguine fluid seeps.

In this chamber's corner, vestiges of fighting are apparent, that is, talon markings. Had another dragon assailed him, his wrath would be incandescent, but the truth is that these scratches originate from his claws. He eventually remembers trying to rend himself asunder to alleviate the pain and... die.

Pain besieges him once again, not solely the scorching sensation but every ossein in his frame aches, and it feels as though his heart is on the verge of rupturing. In a fleeting thought, he resolves to leave this place.

He climbs up the window. It accommodates him perfectly, wings outstretched. And he leaps. The sun hovers low, a muted crimson twilight dyes the grass scarlet, indicating its coming death. Suspecting the reliability of his wings, he opts for low altitude, flitting used to be tender green grass one tail below.

Back in the castle, emerging from the chamber and navigating several turns, a congregation fills a hall. Exulting in their recent campaign victory, no one has noticed the dragon’s sneaking away.

Wouldn’t survive but for Althurviir. Timely rain indeed!?The man garbed as a knight elevates his goblet as he speaks. It can be seen from the cloak on the back that he is the commander of the Stardragon Knights, a participant in the Sacred City offensive.

I hope he can be with us; that he didn’t get bitten... ‘d better check out how’s he doing right now. Sebastian murmurs, rising and preparing to exit.

He traces a circuit, winging westward. The twilight never fails to captivate him, particularly now. Soaring higher, in the upper air he catches the sight of a water pool. The body of water is a flawless circle, as though embedded within the plain. Pools on this land, most with profound depths, interconnected in the end. He approaches, seeking a suitable landing zone.

Need some cold water to relieve the pain.

Landing on a plain is a trifling task, yet he collides with the earth. Only now does he recognize his intense thirst and the extent of his debilitation? A failed landing is inconsequential to him. He advances towards the pool at a crawl, tender ventral scales chafing against the grass, making a rustling sound.

Am I... looking?like an immense lizard? Rawr...?no matter...

Finally at the pool. He immerses his forelimbs in the water, then scoops up additional liquid, dousing his head. Once the obsidian scales are wetted by water, they look extraordinarily shiny in the setting sun. But this is not enough; the venom still burns, and the pain persists. He submerges his entire head in the water, not noticing that his hind paws cannot support him. He loses his balance and falls into the water. Bitter cold water drowns him. He tries to swim to the surface, but his limbs go numb as soon as they touch the freezing water. But finally, the pain is relieved.

He is cognizant that he will meet his demise here if he continues to descend, yet he succumbs... Death is so tantalizingly sweet!

Perhaps I deserve such a denouement...

The ambient illumination wanes progressively, and ultimately, the surface constricts into a minuscule point of light, then vanishes from his vision.

Humans throughout the kingdom are searching for the dragon, not to slay, but to rescue. Yet hope has dissipated, akin to the fading light in the dragon's perception.

The dragon has fallen.