Instead of the green glow of the moss, the pattern on the walls glowed reddish orange, the color of flame. The pattern didn’t cast light but did trace Osric’s path downward into the mountain. Osric could see from the curvature of the passage that he was walking in a downward spiral. The farther he progressed, the warmer the cavern grew, and sweat broke out across his forehead.
The passage became wider, and Osric could see light ahead. The air felt like late summer, hot and humid. He removed his cloak. The passage ended at the mouth of an enormous cavern. An iridescent dragon lay sleeping against the far wall. Its prismatic scales reflected red, gold, and green from its back to its underside. Instead of the bat-like wings of earth dragons, this one had a pair of gargantuan faerie wings, delicate and clear.
The dragon radiated heat through its skin, and as it slept, it exhaled blue flames through its nostrils. Osric had never seen an earth dragon, only studied them in the lore, and his heart raced with excitement. He longed to attempt to communicate with the beast, but fear and common sense told him to let sleeping dragons lie.
He surveyed the cavern for an exit point. A large opening was apparent, but he would have to walk around the perimeter of the cavern, which would take him no more than a few feet from the dragon’s head. He could see no flame pattern to guide his steps.
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