The night wind on the Skyward Terrace did not resemble the winds of Northreach, which bit into the marrow with the damp chill of impending snow. Here, at an altitude of thousands of meters above sea level, the air was thin, dry, and carried a faint, persistent scent of sulfur and heat rising from the volcanic calderas far below. The sky over Draconia never truly succumbed to darkness; the luminescence from the geothermal crystal pipes that fed the entire palace complex bathed the surroundings in a dim, amber-orange glow, creating an atmosphere that was both alien and profoundly majestic.
