With my endeavors in NaNoWriMo unlikely to reach the competitions goal due to personal dereliction, I shift my priorities elsewhere while I finish the month of Sun's Dusk for the sake of practice. So, I took some time to make a small image to accompany the writing submissions I hope to release in the future. To accompany this piece, I have a small, unfinished myth I wrote for a session of free-writing.

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I am the last victim, the last rider of the last bonded dragon.
At the height of our power, the dragons were our greatest critics. They decried the recruitment hunts which saw their brethren bound in chains. Greater still, they reviled the magics by which we bound our hearts to those others would call our mounts. The wild kin failed to realize the most tender of affection all riders had for their partners, or the reverence with which they treated the privilege of soaring the skies together. No human, of the First-Men or Beast-Men, tread such a realm without the blessing and assistance of the magnificent monarchs of the sky.
Humanity too loathed our reign as much if not more of the dragons. We tended them like a forest. Should they fail to limit their numbers, the order saw to it the First-Men never exceeded their bonds. Were dissidents to spark an uprising, our members would extinguish the flames of rebellion with a torrent of dragon fire. So, their hatred waxed hotter than the fires of the Kin, yet they never new the helplessness of their fellows who rode dragonback. No one saw the invisible chains which bound the mind of every rider as much as the spells which bound rider to partner.
Only Beast-Men felt any degree of tolerance for our kind. It was through our efforts that they could live without fear of extinction at the hands of their unchanged human cousins. Truly, the mandate, set in place by the god of order, benefitted them most. Their plea had moved Agape in her youth for her brother to intervene. None knew then the tyranny and oppression those we prayed to set loose upon the world.
Above all, we maintained the status quo. Terra would complain no more of man’s encroachment and loose upon them the Kin in all their terrifying power. Humanity need not fear a dragon’s fire, so long as they ruled themselves with contentment. History though would damn us for this very achievement.
Upon the solid rock of our divine mandate, the order would shatter as gods and mortals turned as one against us. Forbidden from the sea, it took the god of time, named Adonis in his mortal form, to hide the passing of the First-Men across the southern sea, evading the far-flown sight of our wardens. What can one do when time itself opposes you?
So, in secret, humanity settled far away where Adonis worked in secret upon a weapon to undo us and all we stood for.