Veralla did not suspect at all there was an entire area of Ilsorin she had not visited by now.

Far below the hidden stronghold, deep into the mountain, there was an immense cave full with hot springs and subterranean basins. Crystals of all shapes and sizes were embedded into the rock walls, radiating a soft, barely perceptible glow that was nevertheless completely sufficient for draconic eyesight. Winding passageways twisted everywhere, all intersecting at a single gigantic cavern at the center. The water also phosphorescented in dull orange-reddish light, creating the illusion of treasure sparkling in its murky depths. Stalagmites and stalactites pervaded almost every horizontal surface, warping and bulging in artful formations, contours smoothed over the centuries through contact with slithering visitors.

"Woooow!" Veralla gasped as she took in the underground vista. "It is so beautiful!"

"Yep, and it's all made just for us fireborn," Lung said as she swooped down to bring the two of them to a flat area, where a dozen other dragons had already gathered.

The crimson dragon had explained to Veralla this place was where dragons could come and wreak as much havoc as they wished whenever they were struck by foul mood, or felt inclined to play rougher games. The crystals were specially enchanted to absorb the energies of a dragon's firebreath, and then transform into an Æther generator for a time, which was how most of the base above powered its aethertech devices or structures. Also, part of the crystals morphed into radioactive isotopes when charged in this way, used later as fuel for the fusion reactors which more mundane technologies relied on.

"But why only dragons can come here?" Veralla asked. "The radiation is not that strong – I am sure with an adequate protection others can be here for a longer time, too."

"Well, as I said, things can get rough down here," Lung answered. She landed with one elegant flap of her wings. "Especially the games Teyalinar and Glosserax like to play."

"Hey, nothing wrong with unsheathing claws and baring teeth now and again," Glosserax hrrr–ed casually. "We're the good guys, but we're also nigh-unstoppable forces of nature living inside bodies made for ultimate destruction. Doesn't hurt to use those perks once in a while."

"Rrr, personally I prefer the more creational aspects our forms are capable of," Zeromon said. "So, we're all here. What shall we do today?"

"Play!" one of the dragons, Mina, said.

They settled on a game of combat-oriented LARP, in which Veralla and Lung could not participate, she for being too small, and the crimson dragon for being charged with keeping watch over her. They were appointed referees, though, and the game was still fun to watch, Veralla riding on Lung's back while she flew and clambered along the passageways in the wake of the other dragons, alert for foul play or cheating.

After a while the game concluded, and the dragons split into smaller groups, each pursuing their own recreational activities. Veralla bathed in the central cavern with Lung and Zeromon, and the three of them watched as Teyalinar, Glosserax, and several other dragons competed who could produce the most bizarre breath and charge the crystals thus.

"I can spit electricity in a five-stage-pattern modulated frequency!" Teyalinar boasted, and opened his jaws. A crackling lightning bolt burst forth from his maw, and struck a shuttle-sized crystal in a blast of gold-white energy.

"Ha, see this!" Glosserax rumbled. "Ten levels of potential state below absolute zero!" His breath produced a dark ultramarine wave so frigid it froze the air around, which fell crashing into the cavern's basin, the resulting vacuum pockets creating thunderous booms, and even from this distance Veralla felt the sharp biting needles of the unnatural cold.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Not bad, but I have something more inventive in mind than you all," said a long, slender dragon who resembled Glawlrhain in shape and coloration, called Xiou Sha. "Æther-infused resonance cascade!"

"No, no, no, no!" all the other dragons roared simultaneously. "You'll destroy the sub-fractal region!"

Veralla watched the dragons, fascinated by their power and abilities. She glanced surreptitiously from time to time at herself or her reflection into the basin, wishing she too was able to breathe fire or fly. Or become bigger and more stronger for that matter. Yet despite her deficiencies, the other dragons were friendly towards her, even though they were finding her appearance and condition curious.

"Say, I heard the elders talk about you being a Primordial," Zephyr, a blue dragon whose head was intricately tipped with heavy fins, told her. "Is that why you can't fly or breathe fire?"

"Well, uh..." Veralla began uncertainly.

"Nah, I've heard it the other way," Glosserax rumbled. "Primordial dragons are supposed to be special, like, avatars of the Goddess herself or somesuch."

"Well, she does carry the name of the Goddess," Zephyr agreed. "But I'm concerned with why she hasn't manifested her abilities yet."

"I'm more concerned why she's still so small," Zeromon said. "I attained my primary size during the first year out of the shell. How old are you, Veralla?"

"I hatched three months ago," she said.

"Three months!? Aw, you poor thing, you'll probably become like the training master..."

"Maybe she is ill from something?" Glosserax suggested. "Perhaps that's why her scales are so oddly-colored."

"Yeah, I've seen black dragons before, but this is something else entirely," Teyalinar hrrr–ed. "It's makes her look like a living shadow at times."

"Really?" Veralla asked with sinking hearts.

"All right, that's enough," Lung said sternly. "Stop discussing Veralla like she's some sort of a scientific experiment or an alien from another galaxy. It's very rude, and that's something I'd expect from Alomar, not the rest of you."

"But Lung, we're just trying to figure what's wrong," Zephyr protested. "We can't find the truth if we aren't allowed to discuss things."

"Besides, we're constantly talking about Veralla because she's definitely odd-looking, and has such an unusual name."

"Mina!"

"What? It's true. I want to help too, after all."

"If the elders couldn't help Veralla, then I highly doubt we'd be able to do so," Lung said, spreading her wings. "So just drop the subject, and give her some lairspace. Imagine if you were in her place!"

The other dragons hrrr–ed apologetically and promised they would not discuss the issue anymore. Shortly after, the games and playful dares resumed, the others turning to more casual matters again. In an effort to ease any distress on Veralla's part, Lung gave her some additional details about the cave's purpose, explaining that besides recreation, the subterranean area was also used for specialized training, focusing on scenarios when a dragon might be at a spatial disadvantage, or separated for some reason from their soulkin.

Veralla was thankful to Lung for her care. Yet when she later returned back to her room after dinner, well fed and supposedly in good spirits, she could not shake the realization about how different was she from the other dragons. It was not only because she was crippled compared to them; her strange coloration, as well as the fact she was supposed to be a Primordial dragon, made her stand apart from her kind twice over. She feared this differentness of hers, thinking she might end up always alone because of it. Alone like Airo, who was different from all others because of his ever-present sadness. She did not want to become like Airo – alone and sad. At the very least, she wanted to be with him, so they could have their mutual company, and thus be together in their differentness.

She lay alone in their shared lodgings, the room dark yet she a darker spot still. Coiled upon herself in the gloom, she gazed through the long horizontal window unhappily, even... sadly. Was she destined to be alone? Or perhaps she was doing something wrong? She wished her parents were with her, that her mother was still alive, so she could tuck under their protective wings, and cry in relief within the safety of their presence. Yet her mother was gone, and she did not know her father... who perhaps knew why she was a Primordial dragon.

Perhaps he was such a dragon himself. She could not know for sure. Yet Ferrtau, who had been a soulkin to her mother before turning into a terrible man, he too seemed to know about her true nature, she was sure of that, remembering how desperately he had wanted to take her away.

On the verge of tears, Veralla slithered closer to the window, and used its smart surface to access the Viirt. Then she began to search about Primordial dragons, to better understand the forlorn fate that awaited those of her kind.