I was a Black Dragon who had been grievously injured.
I didn't know where I came from, nor where my home was, not even my name; someone else had given it to me.
I still vividly remember the moment I had first awoken.
Those were agonizing days when, amidst an endless darkness, I curled up weakly in the mine, tormented by lacerating wounds and soul-searing pain.
Void of memories, without a past, all I had were the acute pains of my battered body and some residual fear deep within my soul.
In that obscurity, I seemed to hear a faint woman's voice whispering beside me:
"Turns out… it is like this…"
"I apologize, Odosia, time is limited, I can't do more…"
"Sleep, sleep, the wheels of destiny have begun to turn…"
"Our story… has just begun."
…
I was a Black Dragon who had been grievously injured.
Had it not been for the mithril rich with Magic Power within the mine veins, perhaps I would have died long ago from severe injuries and depleted magic.
