Ansgarde stood at the bottom of a bronze spiral staircase that climbed The Tower of Sacred Scrolls. Very few buildings in Upper Heliodor were equipped with staircases. Why this one of them all had it, was a mystery her grandfather, Anserich, never answered. As a Keeper of the Scrolls, he brought her here often when she was a little spawn. How she wished he was there still. Never had she needed him as much as today.

Spinel had found her in the morning and tried to make her feel better by distracting her with extreme cuteness. It only worked temporarily.

“Ah eeeh aaaah?” Spinel asked in a song and landed on her shoulder.

“We’re not taking the stairs.”

Spinel jumped off and fluttered her translucent-black wings, leading the way up. Ansgarde caught up with her within two wing flaps and scooped her up into a palm.

The arched doorway to the archive greeted her like a good friend. She’d come to love these old, white walls. The Tower of Sacred Scrolls was proof that her race wasn’t boring or unimaginative. She wasn’t the only Empyreal who loved creativity and art.

Anserich loved working here. Should she inquire about a job to follow his footsteps? Her mother would be furious if she abandoned the family trade, but it was about time to stop worrying about her mother’s opinions. Ansgarde was old enough to make these decisions, and today felt like the day to change something in her life.

Polished marble floors reflected her silhouette as she passed floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with scrolls the origins of which were lost to time. There was no one else there, and yet she made no sound. She placed each step with care to not disturb the sleeping scrolls, the feeling of dormant power keeping her on edge.

Spinel jumped off to inspect a red fern potted in the corner, leaving her alone in the oversized gallery.

The Tower was cloaked in an optical illusion, appearing small from the outside, while inside, it was divided into multiple halls, a maze with compelling choices. Ansgarde’s feet took her to the pathway on the left, between marble columns ten times her height. The light came in through tall arched windows, reflected off the floor, and danced on the ceiling, accentuating intricate carvings.

Her grandfather’s voice reverberated in her head as if he was standing next to her.

Not all legends are true, but they were all born from truth.

She was absentmindedly touching the gem of the necklace he had given her. It wasn’t anything fancy - just a translucent yellow crystal hanging on a silver chain. He was closer when she had it on. He was the only person who understood her. Without him, she was all alone.

She stopped by her favorite artifact: the scroll that prophesied a Spawn of Heliodor to free dragons from their curse. It hung on the wall, suspended on eye level. As other important scrolls, a pristine glass pane separated her from it. If legends were distorted versions of real events, how much of this tale was true?

Mother’s words rang in her head like footsteps in this tranquil tower. She was right. Ansgarde preferred fantasy to reality, but she was not a warrior princess. She shouldn’t fantasize about flying with dragons. Her breathing picked up as heat built inside her. Why was it wrong to have an unrealistic dream? Why couldn’t she be an adult and love dragons at the same time?

“Ah oh-oh eeoh.”

Spinel hovered next to her, holding a stem of a half-eaten leaf.

“It’s my favorite too, but so what?”

She glared at the scroll, seeing it through her mother’s eyes. It was a useless decoration, ancient and worn out. The parchment was fraying at the edges; the ink was fading. It held no value but for the sentimental fools.

But the drawings framing the prophecy were exquisite, and against her wish, Ansgarde’s mind drifted off, trying to interpret their meaning. The fading blue backdrop to the fluffy clouds was the color of the Cloud Empire sky according to her grandfather. Not all realms had an amber sky like the Nether. She’d love to see it one day.

The golden gate was slightly ajar as if someone had already begun opening it. The artist caught the fierceness of the two winged felines guarding the entrance - Lamassu and Shedu, the guardians of the Empire. They were watching her, appraising, intimidating, and inviting at the same time.

Ansgarde licked her lips. Was this desire to open the gate caused by her curiosity or by unknown magic? She had never been outside of Heliodor. She read scrolls and heard tales that gave her an idea of how different the rest of the Nether was from her home. But other realms? Those were exciting, uncharted territories, the great unknowns full of secrets and fantastical beasts. And dragons.