Beyond the great blue expanse, the coast of Avalon sat like a circlet atop the waves. It was so far away already Cyprus couldn’t make out any buildings, only the greenish ups and downs of hills. “There she goes,” Kaz said cheerfully, noting the change in Cyprus’s expression.
A goat screamed above. The smell of blood and urine rolled down the stairs. Cyprus and Shay clung to the net and each other, shaking.
“A little too early, I see. In any case, call me Halcyon for now.” The man watched James another moment, then disentangled his long fingers and rose gracefully from his chair. James tracked the back of his vibrant green coat as he moved to the window.
"Outside the unintelligible grumbling and angry hissing of dragon language, the home of the draca was known as Dragonhalf, Crown of Dragons. The original words translated into something more like Grave of Dragons, but the two were synonymous to draca. Once assigned, authority could not be escaped by the holder or revoked by those beholden. Unsurprisingly, in the history of draca rulers, only a handful had died from confirmed natural causes. "