The blizzard howled through the rolling mountains, swallowing the dark forest in a bone-chilling frost. Amidst the blinding white haze, Elara dragged her heavy footsteps through the deep snow. Her trembling hand pressed tightly against her swollen belly—her body was completely exhausted, but the fierce survival instinct of an expectant mother forced her to keep moving forward.

Right behind her, two white shadows glided through the storm. They were giant snow wolves, their blood-red eyes waiting for the perfect moment to tear their prey apart. Low growls echoed right at her back.

Summoning the last remnants of her strength, Elara dashed toward a cliff and spotted a narrow fissure leading into a pitch-black cave. Squeezing herself inside, she mustered all her power to hurl a massive stone across the cave opening, just in time as the wolves’ frantic fangs slammed violently against the rock face outside.

Elara’s breath came in ragged gasps within the thick darkness. She collapsed onto the freezing stone floor. But amidst the howling wind echoing through the ravine, a strange sound arose—a faint, trembling chirping.

Elara struck a match. The flicker of flame flared up, revealing a sight that froze her in place: Deep inside the cave lay two tiny, skin-and-bones creatures, their scales shimmering like emerald and sapphire under the flickering light.

Two newborn dragons.

They raised their wide, dazed eyes, staring at her while shivering uncontrollably from hunger and cold. There was no mother dragon in sight. They were nothing more than helpless, abandoned infants. Instinctively, Elara pressed a hand to her own belly. Maternal love welled up inside her, dispelling all fear. She gathered the two little dragons into her arms, using her remaining warmth to keep them alive.

From that day on, the cave became Elara’s greatest secret.

Every day, she secretly brought hunted meat deep into the forest to feed her two extraordinary children. But dragons grow exponentially, and their appetites surged with each passing day. The sight of a heavily pregnant woman continuously buying and hoarding unusually large quantities of meat quickly raised questions among the villagers.

Suspicion turned into fear when a village hunter tracked Elara’s footsteps and discovered the cave.

“Monsters!” he shrieked.

The news spread like wildfire. Fear swiftly metastasized into rampant hatred. The villagers believed the two dragons were omens of disaster—monsters that had to be destroyed before they grew powerful enough to burn everything to ashes.

On a stormy night, armed with clubs, torches, and spears, the villagers marched upon the cave. Elara stood firm at the entrance, her tears mingling with the rain as she pleaded with them to spare the innocent creatures. But blind rage left no room for mercy. In the chaotic fray, a spear thrust forward—one of the little dragons lunged to shield Elara and fell.

The remaining dragon’s agonizing roar ripped through the dark night. Elara cradled her surviving child, her eyes burning with bitter resolve. She turned her back forever on the village—the only place she had ever called home.

Driven out into the heart of the eternal frozen mountains, Elara and the little dragon faced brutal starvation, biting cold, and lurking dangers. But deep within these icy peaks, nature was hiding ancient secrets.

And Elara’s remaining child… was growing every single day.