Aldric and Bramblethane were never meant to meet.

The dragon emerged from the deep places of the earth long after his kind had faded into legend—ancient, weary, and alone. Aldric found him not in battle, but in stillness, where the stone was warm and the world had forgotten how to listen.

They did not speak.
They did not flee.

Something older than language passed between them.

The chains that bind them were not forged as shackles. They were placed by mutual will—anchors of shared magic meant to ground Bramblethane’s immense power and shield the fragile world above from forces it could no longer endure. Aldric bears the other end of that burden willingly, binding his life to the dragon’s so neither walks the world alone.

They travel only in quiet ways now. Bramblethane rests where stone remembers fire. Aldric keeps watch, learning the slow patience of a creature who has seen empires crumble into dust.

Their bond is not command.
Not oath.
Not servitude.

It is companionship born of choice.

The dragon lends Aldric his strength.
Aldric lends the dragon his presence.

They remain together—not because they must,
but because the world is less cruel when faced side by side.