Picture: The Last Krystallos by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use)
The old dragon sighed and his bones ached, but he traversed the mountain on foot until he reached the end of the range; the mountains curved towards the glacier, and Kai stood, as still as the ancient rock itself. There he waited, the five hundred and fifty-seven year old dragon, making full use of his near perfect recall.
Memories spilled out over the snow and passion pounded in his heart as in his mind’s eye he saw his departed love teasing the breeze, swooping and flirting in snowstorm flurries.
He was truly grateful for his memories; for at times they were all that kept him going, and tears like huge, glistening marbles, fell as he thought of his son.
He wanted Kryos, his mighty, majestic son, to have memories, glorious memories of life and love, and his heart shattered with the knowledge that Kryos was the last Krystallos.