Deep inside a silent cave, a herd of dragons slept peacefully beside their young. The enormous cavern had sheltered them for generations. Ancient stone pillars rose from the ground, while glowing crystals scattered across the walls cast a faint blue light over the sleeping dragons.
Near the deepest part of the cave, a mother dragon rested beside her three hatchlings.
The smallest hatchling slept beneath one of her wings, pressed closely against her warm scales. Its two older siblings lay nearby, their tiny wings twitching as they dreamed.
Everything was peaceful.
Then the mountain moved.
At first, it was only a faint vibration beneath the ground.
The mother dragon slowly opened her eyes.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
A second tremor followed.
This one was stronger.
The entire cavern shook violently.
The sleeping dragons immediately awakened. Hatchlings cried out as stones began falling from the ceiling. Adult dragons spread their wings and rushed toward the cave entrance.
Then came a deafening crack.
A section of the ceiling collapsed.
The mother dragon jumped to her feet and saw her three hatchlings frozen in fear only a few steps away.
She did not hesitate.
She rushed toward them.
Just as another shower of rocks came crashing down, she threw herself over her babies and spread her enormous wings around them.
Stone slammed against her scales.
The hatchlings disappeared beneath her body.
Then a massive boulder broke loose from the ceiling.
It fell directly toward them.
The mother looked upward.
There was no time to escape.
She lowered her head and tightened her wings around her babies.
The boulder crashed onto her back.
Her legs nearly collapsed beneath the impact.
A painful roar echoed through the cave.
But she remained standing.
Beneath her wings, the three hatchlings trembled.
More rocks fell around them.
The cave entrance was still visible in the distance, but the path was rapidly disappearing beneath piles of rubble.
The mother understood what she had to do.
She could not save herself.
But she could still save them.
Using one trembling claw, she pushed the oldest hatchling toward a narrow opening between the fallen rocks.
The little dragon resisted.
It looked back at its mother.
She pushed again.
Harder.
The hatchling finally understood.
It crawled through the opening and began running toward the entrance.
The second hatchling followed.
The mother stretched her claw as far as she could and pushed it forward.
Another violent tremor shook the mountain.
More rocks collapsed onto her back.
Her body sank lower.
Still, she refused to stop.
The second hatchling squeezed through the gap and ran after its sibling.
Only the youngest remained.
The tiny dragon crawled toward the opening.
For a moment, the mother believed all three of her babies would escape.
But just before reaching safety, the youngest hatchling stopped.
It turned around.
Its mother was barely visible beneath the rubble.
Only her head, one claw, and part of a wing remained uncovered.
The little dragon stared at her.
Then it began walking back.
The mother growled desperately.
She struck the ground with her claw, trying to frighten the hatchling away.
But the baby continued toward her.
Outside the cave, its two siblings cried from the entrance.
The youngest ignored them.
It climbed across the fallen stones until it reached its mother’s face.
The mother gently touched the hatchling with the tip of her snout.
For one brief moment, everything seemed silent.
Then the ground beneath them cracked.
A thin black line appeared across the cave floor.
It grew rapidly.
The stone split apart.
The crack became wider and wider, tearing through the cavern directly behind the trapped mother.
A deep orange glow appeared far below.
Heat rushed upward from the opening.
The mother turned her head.
Her eyes widened.
The mountain was not simply collapsing.
Something beneath it was awakening.
Another powerful tremor shook the cave.
The crack expanded into a massive chasm.
The rubble trapping the mother began sliding toward it.
The youngest hatchling screamed and grabbed onto its mother’s claw.
The mother dug her claws into the stone.
But the weight of the boulders was dragging her backward.
Slowly.
Inch by inch.
Toward the darkness.
The hatchling pulled with all its strength.
It was useless.
The mother looked toward the entrance.
Her other two babies were still there.
Safe.
Then she looked at the hatchling beside her.
She knew what would happen if it refused to leave.
With the last strength remaining in her body, she lifted her free claw.
The hatchling thought its mother was reaching toward it.
Instead, she struck the ground.
A loose stone rolled beneath the hatchling’s feet.
The little dragon slipped and tumbled several feet away from her.
Before it could stand, the mother spread her damaged wing and slammed it against the ground.
The force pushed a wave of dust and small stones forward, forcing the hatchling farther toward the entrance.
The baby screamed and tried to return.
But suddenly, another dragon appeared through the smoke.
It was an enormous old male from the herd.
He grabbed the hatchling gently between his jaws and began running toward the entrance.
The little dragon struggled wildly.
Its eyes remained fixed on its mother.
She was disappearing beneath the collapsing mountain.
The old dragon carried the hatchling outside just as the entrance began to collapse.
All three siblings watched helplessly.
The mother remained inside.
Then the entire cave entrance vanished beneath thousands of tons of stone.
Silence returned.
The three hatchlings stood together in the snow outside the mountain.
The youngest slowly approached the collapsed entrance.
It scratched desperately at the rocks.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Its claws were far too small.
The older siblings joined it.
Together, the three hatchlings began digging.
The old dragon watched them.
Then he lowered his head.
There was nothing they could do.
Hours passed.
Night covered the valley.
The herd gathered nearby, preparing to leave before another earthquake struck.
But the three hatchlings refused to move.
The youngest remained beside the rocks.
Waiting.
Listening.
Then something happened.
A tiny stone rolled down the pile.
The hatchling froze.
Another stone moved.
Then another.
The youngest pressed its head against the ground.
From somewhere deep beneath the mountain came a faint sound.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scratch.
The hatchling’s eyes widened.
It began digging again.
Its siblings rushed forward.
The old dragon lifted his head.
Then the entire herd turned toward the mountain.
Deep inside the collapsed cave, beneath layers of broken stone, the mother dragon slowly opened her eyes.
She was injured.
Trapped.
But alive.
A faint orange light illuminated the darkness behind her.
She tried to move.
Then she heard something breathing.
Not her hatchlings.
Not another dragon from her herd.
Something much larger.
The mother slowly turned her head toward the enormous crack.
Two gigantic golden eyes opened beneath the mountain.
The darkness moved.
A colossal shape began climbing upward from the depths.
The mother dragon stared into the glowing eyes.
For the first time that night, she stopped struggling against the rocks.
Because she finally understood why the mountain had begun to shake.
The earthquakes had not caused the creature to awaken.
The creature awakening had caused the earthquakes.
And now it was coming toward the surface.
