“Your creed was for naught, the gods are dead.”
The boy stared up into the black maw, row upon row of sharp white teeth, in the center a forked tongue withed.
“They will save me.”
“They are dead, boy! Pledge allegiance to me or die.”
Sweat ran down the boy’s brow as he concentrated on his silent plea: Please, help me!
“Dead, dead, dead,” the dragon chanted as it began circling him.
He continued praying, despite the rising temperature. He could imagine flames dancing around him but, as he opened his eyes, he saw ashes where the dragon had been.
