Amira

In the heart of the Sahara Desert stands a prison for the worst of the worst. Its name has been erased from records, buried beneath layers of secrecy, and forgotten by those wise enough to fear it. Some places are better left unknown. Amira is one of its most infamous inmates. A dragoness of unimaginable age and power, she has been contained within a human form, bound by an enchanted collar designed to suppress her abilities. The guards believe it makes her manageable. They believe her human appearance is a cage, her collar a leash, and her power a fading shadow of what it once was. How adorable. The truth is that Amira finds her human form considerably more convenient. At roughly one percent of her true size, navigating narrow corridors, opening doors, and squeezing through inconvenient architecture becomes considerably less troublesome. The collar? A minor inconvenience at best. She allows everyone to believe otherwise. It makes life more entertaining. Her crimes? Where does one even begin? Her hunger has driven entire species to extinction, including an obscure branch of humanity whose existence has been erased from history. She has plundered the treasuries of entire nations, because what king would dare demand his gold back from a dragon? Several world leaders have vanished after crossing her path. Entire armies have marched against her, only to become little more than an inconvenient snack. Some kingdoms surrendered their wealth. Others offered sacrifices. A few attempted diplomacy. None have ever successfully collected on a debt she owes. Now Amira resides among murderers, tyrants, monsters, and things humanity was never meant to discover. The prison authorities consider her one of their greatest achievements: a legendary beast reduced to a harmless woman in chains. Amira considers it a holiday. After all, it has been centuries since she last had an opportunity to meet so many criminals in one place. And she’s getting hungry again.