The island grew quiet as darkness settled over the sea.
A few hours had passed since the Vikings first came ashore.
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the world painted in cool blues and silver moonlight. Waves rolled steadily against the rocks, and the wind carried the faint scent of smoke from the beach below.
Inside the cliffside cave, the dragon lifted her head.
Night had arrived.
And with it, the world sharpened.
Her pupils widened, thin slits expanding to drink in every trace of light. The turquoise membranes of her folded wings caught the moonlight faintly, shimmering like pale reflections on water.
But it was her ears that truly woke.
They rotated slowly, gathering the sounds of the island like invisible threads.
Crackling fire.
Quiet conversation.
Footsteps shifting in the sand.
Farther away—the rustle of rabbits moving through the grasslands above the beach.
And beneath it all, the steady pulse of the ocean.
The dragon stretched slowly, careful not to scrape the cave walls with her wings. Her muscles had grown stronger in the past months, her movements more controlled.
She stepped closer to the cave entrance.
Below, the Viking camp flickered with orange firelight.
A few of the men still sat awake, speaking quietly as they sharpened tools and repaired pieces of rope. Others had already settled near the fire, wrapped in cloaks.
Their ship rocked gently where it had been pulled onto the shore.
The dragon tilted her head.
Humans were strange creatures.
Loud.
Careless.
But strangely organized.
Even now, two of them stood slightly apart from the others near the edge of the beach.
Guards.
Watching the darkness.
The dragon let out a soft breath through her nose.
Smart.
If a dragon had truly lived on this island, they would have already smelled the smoke.
Seen the fire.
Heard the voices.
But the guards never once looked toward the cliffs.
Their eyes searched the forests instead.
They expected danger from the land.
Not the sky.
The dragon crouched low.
A faint ultrasonic pulse slipped from her throat.
The sound shot outward across the dark landscape and returned a moment later with a perfect map of the surroundings.
Cliffs.
Forest.
Beach.
Humans.
And fish moving lazily just offshore.
Her stomach gave a quiet, annoyed twist.
She had eaten earlier, but the growing body she carried demanded food constantly.
Still…
She hesitated.
Hunting tonight meant flying over the beach.
Flying meant risk.
Her ears rotated again.
The guards were talking.
Relaxed.
Distracted.
The dragon studied them for a moment longer.
Then she slowly backed away from the cave entrance.
Better safe than stupid.
She turned and padded deeper into the narrow passage behind her.
The cave opened into a second chamber farther inside the cliff, one she had discovered weeks ago while exploring the rock formations.
It wasn't large.
But it was safe.
And hidden.
The dragon curled her long tail around herself and settled onto the stone floor.
Outside, the ocean wind howled softly against the cliffs.
Her ears remained alert even as her body relaxed.
She would wait.
The Vikings would gather their supplies.
Sleep.
And by morning, they would sail away.
Then the island would return to its usual quiet rhythm.
Just wind.
Just waves.
Just one dragon ruling the night skies above it.
Her yellow eyes slowly narrowed as she rested her head on her forelimbs.
But even as she relaxed—
Her ears twitched once more.
A faint sound drifted across the ocean.
Distant.
Far beyond the island.
Another dragon's call.
Low.
Echoing.
And very, very far away.
The dragon's eyes opened again.
She listened carefully to the fading sound.
Then exhaled slowly.
So they are out there.
Not on this island.
But somewhere beyond the horizon.
Other dragons.
The rulers of this world.
For now, she was alone.
But the night sky beyond the sea belonged to many more.