As he wondered if one of the engraved dragons was Tiamat, the doors split open with a loud rattle.
The carpet he stood on continued inside, passing between Mesopotamian columns carved from the oldest rocks on which torches crackled to illuminate the room.
Above the short flight of stairs at the end of the spacious hall, on an elevated platform, Tiamat sat on a throne that gave him the impression of gazing at the universe. Faint lights sparkled like stars on the pitch black metal, some bigger than the others, each seemingly arranged with a purpose he couldn't be bothered to understand.
Instead, he preferred to focus on the goddess' mesmerising violet eyes and faint smile.
Why had she moved from his palace? Did she like grand entrances that much? Her shenanigans somehow made him smile.
With a smug throw of her hair, she grinned. "Welcome to my favorite resting place: the Dragon's Maw Citadel. I believe Mab gave you a tour and explained the facilities, right?"
