Chapter 12

The dragon was humanoid, and by far the oldest Drake had seen yet; its dark gold hide was leathery and wrinkled. Its underbelly scales and wing skin was parchment colored, and a pair of spectacles identical to Damrabe’s sat on the dragon’s snout, in front of a set of gold colored eyes. Also, like D'arabe, its head was like that of a Chinese dragon, and a mane of white hair extended from behind its horns, and a tuft of it tipped its tail. It sported a short, white beard.

Poseidon wiped the ink on his talon off on a cloth tacked to the table, took off his spectacles, and looked up at Draco. “Welcome back, Draco. In charge of transporting the new prisoners again?”

Draco grimaced. “You know perfectly well that your grandson should be doing that,” he growled.

“I do,” Poseidon responded. “And where would my grandson be this time?”

“Took off with the king to watch his son in action,” Draco snorted. “I think he just wanted to get out of seeing you again.”

The aged dragon sighed. “Yes, well, t
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