Zym rumbled, a sound like rolling boulders and distant fire. They fear what I am.
Ezran did not conquer. He did not burn villages or demand fealty with roars that shook mountains. Instead, he sat in the sunlit ruins of a fallen spire, eating a jelly tart while Zym curled around him like a thundercloud deciding to be gentle. ezran dragon king
And so the Dragon King—barefoot, jam-stained, and barely tall enough to see over a trellis of blooming sunfruits—ruled not with fear, but with the quiet courage of a boy who had once returned a dragon's egg to its mother. His throne was a saddle. His decrees were whispered to the wind and carried on leathery wings. Zym rumbled, a sound like rolling boulders and distant fire