On a faraway mountain top, beyond the arching trees and roaring rivers, lived a monstrous creature. Born out of lightning and fire, crafted in the depths of the mountain, the monster’s scales gleamed like rubies in the setting sun. His great form surpassed even the tallest of trees; his wingspan’s shadow capable of blocking out the sun’s light.
There on his mountain he sat, like a king upon his throne, and he waited. He waited for just the right moment, the right second, to spread his wings and soar over the land, looking; searching.
For what did this creature covet more than his mountain home and solitude?
Yet, not just any ordinary stone.
The stone called to him from the moment of his birth. The whispering in the mountain which plagued his dreams. The last and final treasure needed for his collection to be complete.
The only stone in the world to beat in tandem with the great monster’s heart. To call out to him, reminding him of the days of old, when the land was ravaged under his teeth and claws. His source and connection to those who had gone before him, and his ultimate strength.
Where had this heartstone disappeared to?
It was stolen! Taken by thieves of the worst kind.
Tamers, they called themselves, but the monster knew better, they did not tame his burning heart. They hid it away, deep within the land below the mountains. And there they sealed it, locked it away, taking the creature’s strength with it. Removing the very fire from his bones.
So he searches for it till this very day. Ever searching, ever watchful. For the patience of the creature is long, and the lifespan of the Tamers is as short as a breath of wind.
He will find his heartstone, and when he does, the earth will shake and mountains will crumble.
When that moment comes, the great dragon will be whole again, and the world will know his wrath.