— Perhaps there is a way to resolve part of this injustice. — noticing the grief of everyone present, while Ǣg-berend never left Æthelflæd's grave for a single moment, the Golden Dragon called for the group's attention. He was too large to enter the castle, so he spoke from the doorway to those inside. — I know you expect some word or ancient wisdom that could defeat the creature who killed the Demon King, but even in all my millennia, I have never known of him. I cannot help you with that.
— But you said you knew how to end the injustice. — Leofwynn spoke up. — If this being developed his powers in secret, how can we stand against him?
— My time no longer belongs to this Age. But before my farewell, I can still accomplish something. I never imagined that my worst pupil would become the one to gather so many souls around himself. — he looked at Æthelflæd's grave before continuing.
The Golden Dragon took a deep breath. His great nostrils exhaled warm air through the first floor of the Black Castle, and the winds swept up the stairs, drawing in the others who had been scattered throughout the fortress.
— This is an old story. No... this is the oldest of stories, and it must always be sung.
— Sing it for us! — Cwenburg sat down before the dragon. — If needed, I'll serve you water so you won't have to stop. — the Unicorn-Girl recreated her staff and poured water into the Dragon's mouth. He drank contentedly.
— Perhaps it began even before that, but what I learned dates back one hundred thousand years. — and the beautiful voice of the Golden Dragon took shape in poetic, melodic verse.
— The world was not as it is today. There was only land, stone, and fire. The brown, black, and red dragons danced in play, as our brothers once did. They were the children of this world, delighting in existence itself, finding joy in seeing what was, without resisting the simple pleasure of being here and nowhere else. Their sighs began when this soil and this heart were sculpted from the stars, and for long they echoed, and for longer still they shall echo. The core! — the Golden Dragon's voice rose exactly as it had when he first heard the story nearly fifty thousand years ago. — They flew upon mighty wings, and the cliffs were their homes. They soared joyfully, and peace filled the world. They were few, yet glorious. There were no clouds in the sky as we know them today, and everyone knew the name of every living soul. Before the heavens were claimed by Her, they would gaze upon the stars. Among them, Mabel, the Scarlet Fire Dragon, pointed with her snout and saw that one star was moving. Look! Look! It's coming this way! She was only a child and knew no fear, for she thanked the stars only for their light and warmth. And it came. But not by chance. Its impact covered the hills and mountains, bathing the first Dragons in its radiance, from their entrails to the heavens themselves. Endiblak was the Goddess who arrived. The beautiful one brought water, which flowed into oceans, rivers, tides, and wells. And from her womb, every color was born.
The somber melody filled the hall with tension, yet no one interrupted the Dragon.
— From those colors, blue painted the depths of the oceans. Green became the home of every seed, every mind, and even old grumpy Jubjub, who complained even about the taste of the air! White took to the skies, and gray was born where volcanoes met the sea. How many shades of green fill the forests, thickets, and orchards? In those skies, orange, cherry, rose, magnolia, gold, and silver also learned to fly! Flap your little wings, or Uncle Rapunzel will catch you! And flavors began to multiply. Life rose from the seas to the land, to the skies, and beyond the clouds, which from that day onward never again left the sight of those who knew what it meant to love. And to be loved is the only freedom greater than the touch of wings against one another in the air. The daughters of the Water Goddess knew how to love, and they became the mothers of mermaids, lamias, sea folk, and all the peoples of the sea. The dragons became their fathers, the grandfathers of goblins, giants, anteaters, and countless other races. From them came every people upon every continent, and all life that would one day fill the world.
— I don't understand how this can help us. — Ǣg-berend was troubled by the song.
— Isn't it obvious? — the Golden Dragon frowned at the interruption. — This is the story of how a soul... — he fixed his gaze upon the grave of his beloved Æthelflæd once more. — ...can depart, and can return.