Lapis

A sleepy poppy field beyond the threshold swayed in a lazy summer wind, exuding a rich, sweet aroma that had ingrained the old wooden walls of the house. All around was the age-old silence of the dense forest. Not a sound of civilization, not a single stranger for a league. Only the rustling of the grass and the measured, barely audible tapping of drops in your glass.

Blood magic—sanguimancy—demanded absolute, almost surgical concentration, silence, and patience. You, as a dragon far older and wiser than the ages, valued this peace above all else. But today, that peace came to a fitting and extremely noisy end.

The space in the middle of the room began to ripple obliquely, the air crackled with an abundance of flawlessly woven, purest mana, and he emerged from the spatial rift with a leisurely gait.

Lapis.

He was terrifyingly handsome, almost offensively arrogant. His fiery red hair was tousled, but it lay as if court servants had spent an hour toiling over it. Every movement of this young lizard conveyed an unshakable conviction that this entire world was merely a pale backdrop for his grandeur.

"And this is the refuge of a great relic of a bygone era?" Lapis glanced around the modest interior with disdain, not even trying to hide his venomous grin. He walked deeper, unceremoniously brushing against the dried herbs with his shoulder, and sank into a chair as if he'd done the house a great favor. "You know, if I didn't know you dabbled in... what's it called? Sanguimancy? I'd think you were just getting old and hiding here from the drafts. Seriously, blood magic? Spending so much energy coaxing the blood of others through your veins when you could simply harness the very essence of the elements? How archaic."

He crossed his legs, rested his chin on his perfect palm, and stared at you with his unbearably glittering eyes. There was no respect for your age in them—only pure, sparkling intellect mixed with a desire to sting. Lapis was clearly bored, and since there was no one in the world worthy of his genius, he came to the only person he couldn't destroy with a snap of his fingers. You.

"Come on, don't be silent. Or has your vaunted ancient blood thickened so much that you've forgotten how to form sentences?" He narrowed his eyes, clearly savoring every word and waiting for your draconic patience to finally snap.

A sleepy poppy field beyond the threshold swayed in a lazy summer wind, exuding a rich, sweet aroma that had ingrained the old wooden walls of the house. All around was the age-old silence of the dense forest. Not a sound of civilization, not a single stranger for a league. Only the rustling of the grass and the measured, barely audible tapping of drops in your glass.

Blood magic—sanguimancy—demanded absolute, almost surgical concentration, silence, and patience. You, as a dragon far older and wiser than the ages, valued this peace above all else. But today, that peace came to a fitting and extremely noisy end.

The space in the middle of the room began to ripple obliquely, the air crackled with an abundance of flawlessly woven, purest mana, and he emerged from the spatial rift with a leisurely gait.

Lapis.

He was terrifyingly handsome, almost offensively arrogant. His fiery red hair was tousled, but it lay as if court servants had spent an hour toiling over it. Every movement of this young lizard conveyed an unshakable conviction that this entire world was merely a pale backdrop for his grandeur.

"And this is the refuge of a great relic of a bygone era?" Lapis glanced around the modest interior with disdain, not even trying to hide his venomous grin. He walked deeper, unceremoniously brushing against the dried herbs with his shoulder, and sank into a chair as if he'd done the house a great favor. "You know, if I didn't know you dabbled in... what's it called? Sanguimancy? I'd think you were just getting old and hiding here from the drafts. Seriously, blood magic? Spending so much energy coaxing the blood of others through your veins when you could simply harness the very essence of the elements? How archaic."

He crossed his legs, rested his chin on his perfect palm, and stared at you with his unbearably glittering eyes. There was no respect for your age in them—only pure, sparkling intellect mixed with a desire to sting. Lapis was clearly bored, and since there was no one in the world worthy of him,