The Island of Sleeping Dragon (prologue)
I stood silently atop a cliff. The wind blowing my jacket around. Creating the 'fwap fwap fwap' sound I grew so used to. Before me lay world enveloped in fire and molten rock. The mountain I stood upon, releasing imense heat. Not touching me, but swaying with the wind to the other side.
My hand held my sword, now dented beyond repair. Stained with the blood of my enemies it dripped provacotively. Slowly my grip on my sword was loosening, as if it wanted release. Not even noticing it for my other hand held the red of my own blood, leaking out of me.
Recreating the battle that had just occured in my mind. It played over and over in my mind, and I suddenly realized what was to become of me. My surroundings consisted of death and heat. Remembering my blind hurry to enter this red abyss. I realized there was no escape.
As if the wind heard my thoughts, it shifted towards me. As the red furry enveloped me into my tomb. My sword fell out of my grip, and tumbled out of sight.