"The blizzard is worsening!" Jasmine cried out, doubling over and huddling against the side of her horse to shield herself from the violent lashes of wind and snow. Lyana remained silent, grimly urging her mount forward. Along the roadside, ridges of trees bent and snapped, seemingly surrendering to the fury of the far-north storm.

  "We’re almost there," Lyana whispered. It was just loud enough for Jasmine to hear over the horrific shrieking of the gale.

  The two horses trudged stubbornly against the fierce headwind, carrying Jasmine and Lyana onward. They rode for what felt like an eternity... until the wind finally began to settle. The aggressive shards of ice turned into soft, dancing flakes that settled gently upon their blood-red cloaks. In the distance, a fortress as white as ice rose majestically, anchoring itself between the earth and the heavens.

  As they drew closer, the weather shifted with startling speed. The wind vanished entirely, replaced by a peaceful, light dusting of snow. The legendary cruelty of the North seemed absent here.

  "The White City!" Lyana exclaimed softly. Caught up in the excitement, Jasmine pushed back her hood, revealing hair as red as a ripe apple.

  "Finally, we have arrived," Jasmine said with a smile, her face flushing a radiant pink under the rare, pale sun of the high north.

  The White City grew larger in the Red Priests' vision as they approached. They realized then that the city was encircled by a wall of ice over ten meters high, cradling a crystalline architectural complex that shimmered brilliantly under the light of the eternal winter.

  Jasmine spotted a towering gateway that dominated her field of vision. It was the sole entrance to the White City—The Dragon Gate.

  "That must be the Dragon Gate," Lyana remarked. But no sooner had she spoken than both horses reared up, neighing in a frantic, agitated state, sensing an approaching peril.

  Cracking and rumbling sounds echoed through the air. The ground shuddered violently before tearing open. From beneath the earth, a black mountain-like mass surged upward, emitting a piercing roar—as if a monster sleeping in the bowels of the world had suddenly been jolted awake.

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  Without hesitation, Jasmine and Lyana spurred their horses backward, narrowly avoiding the boulders and earth cascading around them.

  "What is that?" Jasmine cried in terror, struggling to look back while galloping away. The "mountain" had fully breached the surface, unfurling a pair of colossal wings that completely blotted out her view of the White City.

  "A dragon!" Lyana reined in her horse, forcing it to turn back so she could watch in silence.

  A dragon as large as a mountain, pitch black with a wingspan exceeding a hundred meters, let out a terrifying roar. It beat its massive wings and ascended, cloaking the entire sky. With every beat, hurricanes of wind blasted in all directions, sweeping away dust, vegetation, and ice.

  The dragon’s body was encased in scales as hard as Valyrian steel. Its massive head featured eyes as red as blood, staring fixedly down at the two Red Priests who looked up in sheer awe. Their horses seemed to have lost all strength and instinct; they stood frozen, huffing breath, as if resigned to their fate.

  Anxiety clouded Jasmine’s face; she had never faced a dragon of such horrific proportions. Lyana, however, appeared calmer, confidence slowly returning to her gaze and movements.

  The dragon opened its cavernous maw, revealing teeth as sharp as swords—a mouth capable of swallowing a full-grown bull elephant in a single snap. It roared again, shaking the very corner of the sky, as a glow began to intensify within its throat. It was preparing to breathe fire: the ultimate weapon of its kind.

  "Drogon!" Lyana suddenly screamed just as the flames began to spill from the dragon’s mouth.

  An expansive silence followed. The fire in the dragon’s gullet died out instantly. The beast stared intently at Lyana, its breath coming in heavy, labored huffs. For the first time in hundreds of years, someone had spoken its name—a name the dragon itself might have forgotten. But it had not forgotten. As proof, the dragon landed heavily on the ground, bringing its head toward the two women, its eyes searching and scrutinizing.

  Jasmine stood frozen as the giant head moved closer, sniffing and huffing. Lyana dismounted gracefully and walked slowly toward the behemoth. She reached out a hand with deliberate slowness, causing the dragon to instinctively pull its neck back. It was a surreal sight: a tiny human causing a mountain-sized dragon to flinch.

  Lyana smiled. "Drogon, we have come as promised by the Lord of Light."

  The moment she spoke, the dragon’s eyes flared bright like falling stars. It threw its massive neck back and let out a roar—one of pure joy, yet laced with a deep, lingering sorrow. Drogon crawled heavily to the side, clearing a path that led straight to the White City. It looked toward the fortress, growling unintelligible sounds, before glancing back at the two priests.

  Lyana climbed back onto her horse. Alongside Jasmine, she proceeded slowly down the path Drogon had opened, riding silently toward the gate that had already been swung wide.

  Drogon watched them go, and from his ancient eyes, a single, searing drop appeared to fall. A tear of fire.