The Northern Mountain Range.
The frontline encampment of the Gulad Empire.
A streak of fire plummeted from deep within the clouds, tearing through the sky with a sharp whistle.
It was sixteen-year-old Amilia, slowly descending on her Companion Ancient Dragon, "Thunder Fire."
The heat rising from between its Dragon Scales enveloped her red twin-tails. The braids danced over her shoulders like two flickering flames. When the tips of her hair brushed against the dragon's neck, they kicked up fine specks of golden light, as if someone had crushed a handful of stars and woven them into her hair.
Although she had just held her coming-of-age ceremony in the Imperial Capital, her frame was as petite and delicate as an unsprouted spring bud, inspiring a sense of pity.
Paired with a face as exquisite as a porcelain doll's, it would be no exaggeration to say she looked like a little girl not yet ten years old.
