The wind howled across the ash-choked landscape, carrying with it the acrid scent of scorched earth and ancient magic.
Sky trudged forward, his boots sinking into the brittle ground with each step. The terrain was a desolate expanse of cracked obsidian and twisted remnants of once-thriving flora, now reduced to skeletal remains.
Above, the sky was a mess of swirling gray clouds, occasionally pierced by flickers of distorted aurora, remnants of the disturbed leylines that crisscrossed the region.
Clutched tightly to his chest were the dragon eggs, their surfaces trembling with an energy that resonated deep within him.
The oldest egg emitted a soft, rhythmic tapping, while another glowed with a faint, pulsating light.
Sky's heart pounded in sync with the eggs' vibrations, a mixture of awe and dread coursing through his veins.
His nephews and nieces would he hatching soon!
He should be excited, but they were walking into a trap.
A trap they knew about but couldn't ignore.
