The biting cold wind swept across the misty peaks, rustling and scattering golden autumn leaves down the rocky ravine. High upon the highest cliff overlooking the valley, Ember rested in silence.

Years had passed since the day she parted from her human mother. The tiny emerald-green dragon of the past was now fully grown, her scales shimmering in an exceptionally rare rose-quartz pink. Her kin had scattered far and wide, yet Ember chose to remain in these mountains—the place closest to the small wooden cabin of her youth.

One morning, while excavating a new shelter among the rocky crevices, her claw brushed against a strange object embedded in the damp soil. Ember curiously scraped the dirt away.

It was a piece of old, frayed wool fabric, covered in moss yet still retaining its familiar deep crimson color. Ember’s heart skipped a beat. That fabric… was the burnt hem of the dress she had accidentally singed the very first time she tried to breathe fire as a hatchling.

Ember pressed the frayed cloth to her snout. Though time had worn everything away, she could almost smell the warm woodsmoke, the gentle scent of herbs, and feel the calloused, slender hands of Mira that had been so infinitely soft. Childhood memories flooded back like a rippling river: the patient afternoons Mira spent lifting Ember’s tiny wings, and the stormy nights spent curling her head on her mother’s lap by the hearth. Mira had protected her from the entire world, sacrificing everything to give her a future of freedom.

Ember gently tucked the piece of cloth into the deepest corner of her cave, treasuring it as the most priceless artifact of her life.

Yet the peace upon the mountain peaks was soon broken.

In recent days, strange footsteps and the heavy scent of cold iron appeared at the base of the mountains. A mysterious group of travelers—clad in heavy furs, bearing coils of thick rope, harpoons, and ancient maps—had ventured deep into this treacherous terrain. They were not seeking gold or jewels. They were hunting a creature of legend.

Ember watched them silently from high within the clouds, avoiding all confrontation just as her human mother had once taught her: stay away from the troubles of humans.

Until one crimson sunset.

The expedition halted directly beneath the sheer cliff where Ember took shelter. A guide raised a leather map, pointing up at the vertical rock face. As Ember leaned down slightly to observe, the fading sunlight caught her unique pink scales, casting a shimmering glow like a gemstone amidst the grey crags.

“Look! Up on the cliff!” someone shouted in awe.

The group stirred frantically. The leader stepped forward, raising a brass spyglass toward the peak. The travelers froze as they came face-to-face with the legendary creature: a dragon of exquisite yet majestic rose-pink hue, her golden eyes quietly staring down at them from above.

The clinking of iron chains echoed through the ravine. The legendary pink dragon had been discovered, and Ember’s peaceful life had officially come to an end.