There was little to draw the gold dragon from the lair. So most days, she could be found helping out her aunt Storm.

Hatchlings and children needed to be fed, and occasionally she would play little games with them.

Tag was a favorite. Quiet times were spent in her own room, or the library, flipping through a few of the books. Her favorite was the big flower book of her mother's.

It still bore her mother's scent, and the pages were worn and dog earred at the tops. Showing just how much Icer had loved looking through it.

She missed her mother. She missed her father too. Flipping through the book, she would look at the multicolored plants and flowers.

Sometimes she would sit at the entrance and look out of the waterfall, to the gardens beyond.

They were a peaceful place. And soon she would have to return to her chores.

Her aunt had taken over the dangerous job of feeding the wyverns deep in the forest ruins. While Storm was away. she would stay to watch over the children.

When she returned, it would be her turn to go outside. Slipping around the edges of the gardens, the little gold would help chase a few sheep or cows that would try and break away from the herds.

All under the watchful gaze of the guards.