The ridge of the western mountains saw the first sun, rising out of the darkness like a great cresting wave. Boulder fields – slow-motion avalanches – descended the slopes into the vast array of branching valleys below.
Upon one such slope, well below the tree line, a massive boulder had split the rock flow. In the lee of the boulder lay a deep bed of leaves, shaded by several trees which had pushed their way through the rocky flow.
Within this bed lay the sleeping form of Magus, First among the Lir. Despite exhaustion the dragon slept fitfully, limbs and tail twitching as he dreamed of the harm he had brought his kin.
One of the Logos sat in the branches of the tree directly over him. She had found him the day before; although eager to engage in conversation she had obeyed her First’s injunction: ‘observe first, build a base upon which to work with. But by all means remain quiet until the opportunity presents itself. These Lir can hear for quite a distance.