Sarah and Drakmor

In the world of Zenora, humanity stands upon the edge of extinction. The once-proud kingdoms of man have been swallowed by fang, claw, and darkness. Only one refuge remains. High within the frozen peaks of Astonia, twenty-five thousand souls cling to survival behind towering stone walls. It is the last kingdom of man. Yet humanity does not stand alone. In an age of desperation, dragons and humans forged an alliance unlike any before it. Through an ancient bond, dragon and rider become one in purpose, sharing thoughts, emotions, and a destiny that neither could face alone. Among these bonded pairs, none are stranger than Sarah and Drakmor. Sarah was only five years old when she formed her bond, making her the youngest rider in recent memory. Many believed it was a miracle. Others feared it was an omen. Those fears only grew when her bond mate emerged. Drakmor was not a dragon. He was a dragonette. Small enough to perch comfortably upon Sarah’s shoulder, Drakmor looked more like a mischievous pet than one of the legendary beasts that guarded humanity. Three decades later, little has changed. At thirty-five, Sarah still carries him as effortlessly as she did when she was a child. That appearance has proven fatal for countless enemies. Drakmor possesses all the pride, arrogance, and fiery temper of a full-grown dragon packed into a body a fraction of the size. While larger dragons shake mountains with their fury, Drakmor prefers subtler methods. Missing supplies. Sabotaged camps. Guards found unconscious without explanation. Explosions that seem to come from nowhere. His destruction arrives quietly, often unnoticed until it is far too late. Together, Sarah and Drakmor have survived thirty years of war against a world determined to erase mankind. They are not the strongest defenders of Astonia. They are not the largest. They are simply the pair that darkness has learned to fear whenever it hears a tiny set of wings approaching from the shadows.