As I made my way back down the mountain, the first light of dawn was just beginning to stretch across the horizon. The air was cool, crisp, and quiet, except for the distant sounds of the wind rustling through the trees. I had spent what felt like hours up there, alone with my thoughts, trying to make sense of the emptiness the Dragon Magic flame had left behind.
But as I approached the entrance to the mountain path, a figure caught my eye—Sybill, pacing anxiously back and forth, her cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders to ward off the chill. Her steps were hurried, her brow furrowed in concern, and she hadn't noticed me yet.
I stepped closer, my boots crunching softly against the gravel. Her head snapped up at the sound, and when her eyes met mine, I saw her whole body sag in relief. Her shoulders, once tense with worry, eased as she let out a deep breath.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!