...

And that which had cruelly clouded the obsidian eyes was suddenly naught but a mote on the eye of the great dragon. It blinked against the sudden glare of the sun shining into the cave. It had be long ages since it had been able to look around. What it thought was a cavern turned out to be a cramped dank fissure in the side of a crumbling mountain. The collection of treasures strewn around the cave nothing more than broken baubles and trinkets covered with dust and the slime of the ages. Snaking its elegant neck out of the cave mouth and tendrils of angry smoke curled from its nostrils. So much decay, the ground littered with hardly recognizable remains. It had no idea what it had been eating and knew it was no good having suffered years of dissatisfaction and constant hunger. How it had come to be such it had no idea. Rising from the bed of meaningless mementos, it came forth and lumbered down the mountain, sending a shower of stones and dust racing before it. Reaching the calm lake at the foot of the mountain, it peered at its reflection and drew back in horror. Its beautiful jeweled hide a map of half healed scars caked with dust, some oozing ichor and still others gaping and open. It closed its shining black eyes and wept, tears sliding down the scaled cheeks dropping as diamonds to the ground. It flung its great body into the lake sending waves crashing into the surrounding foliage. The water masked the ever-flowing tears as it dove deeper coming to a rest at the lake bottom. As it lay, blurred images of what had been raced through its mind and its skin began to glow. A healing had begun. The open wounds across its back began closing slowly, the rents in its wings knitting themselves. In its head spoke its heritage. “That which made you, lies dying. Your eyes are now clear. Live.” It flexed its massive wings and bulleted to the surface, bursting from the lake with a deafening trumpet.

Look all to the heavens: The great dragon has taken to the skies.