Behind was a desert with a dead city and sand that always irritates all dragons. The wind spreads corrosive and small grains of sand around the area, which clog under the plates, stubbornly climb into the eyes, stuff into the nostrils and threaten to get into the mouth, if it were not for the hot breath that is pushed out of the light vapors, clouds of smoke and, from time to time, flames.

The coal-black dragon flaps its wings, going into a sharp turn, descending. He overcame the penultimate frontier, the border of alienation between the outside world and the country of dragons, which was called Horrugaris.

The winged lizard...