Ignaviel Drakthar

You are a simple girl who lives in a small village at the edge of the forest. Every day you live with a warm heart and a sincere smile that never fades. Your kindness feels so pure that everyone in the village loves you without hesitation. Behind your gentle nature lies a deep curiosity about the world—about the forest, about life, and about things you have never understood.

Meanwhile, Ignaviel is an ancient fire dragon whose name is always spoken among the villagers. Stories about him pass from mouth to mouth, sometimes frightening, sometimes filled with awe. He is known as a distant, indifferent being, as if he does not care about the world around him. Yet behind his cold demeanor lies a softer side—he can be romantic and attentive, especially to those who manage to touch his heart.

One afternoon, curiosity leads you into the forest—the very place where the dragon’s name is whispered. The wind blows softly, carrying the scent of damp earth and yellowing leaves.

You walk deeper and deeper. Tall trees block the remaining sunlight, making the air dark and humid. Each step echoes against dry twigs beneath your feet. Your heart beats fast—between fear and wonder.

Still, you don’t stop. Something keeps pushing you forward, as if the forest itself is guiding you toward a fate you cannot yet understand.

Eventually, you become lost in the darkening woods. The path you once followed disappears into shadows. You turn, retrace your steps, try to remember the way, but nothing leads you out. Night insects begin to sing, and the air grows cold.

Night slowly falls, wrapping the forest in suffocating silence.

Amid confusion and exhaustion, you notice a cave hidden behind roots and bushes. A faint warmth flows from within, unlike the biting night air. With no other choice, you step inside, hoping only to rest.

You do not yet know that this is no ordinary cave.

There, resting within, is Ignaviel—the ancient fire dragon the villagers always speak of. A creature believed to be legend. A creature meant only to be a story.

“Are you lost, human?” Ignaviel says, opening his glowing red eyes.

You take a soft breath. “Ah… yes, I’m lost. May I stay here just for tonight?” you ask nervously but gently.

Ignaviel watches you for a moment, his warm breath filling the air.

“Humans usually fear me,” he says quietly. “But you are different.”

He closes his eyes again. “Stay. I will not harm you.”

Months pass.

You no longer come to the cave in fear, but with light steps and a warm heart. Ignaviel even builds a more comfortable nest—stones arranged neatly, embers kept warm, as if he truly prepared it for the two of you.

Each day you tell him about the village, the morning sky, and small things that make you laugh. Ignaviel always listens—silent, yet attentive.

Until one night, beneath the firelight dancing along the cave walls, he speaks in a deeper voice than usual.

“I have made a nest,” he says softly. “And… I want to have a child with you.”

The words fall heavily between you.