Prologue
Blades. Blood. The Still wing of a dragon lying cold on the ground. Cries of agony permeate the air as Sir Bennett of Old approaches the creature. “I don’t need your pity, filthy human.“It’s not a pity to give a noble creature a pleasant death.”
With the swing of a sword, the pact was made.
---Through the Millennia, Sir Bennet’s decision has haunted him. He resides in the remnants of Castle Godwin of England, alone and bitter until a single desperate woman braves his castle door.- - -