The Exiled Dragon
My dragon was at peace with this woman, but Creed and his father were certainly skeptical.
“No, my charming griffon, I am Hecate, Goddess of Magic and Spells.” The few brief moments she let us have to contemplate the massive shock of information sink into our minds, I thought back to the witch’s comments at the ceremony. ‘To listen to the words of Hecate.’ This woman was the actual goddess. She looked like one the very moment we saw her, but now it had become so more real. A soft glow of gold wrapped around her body tightly, her fair skin that had never seen a bit of sun, no wrinkles not even a beauty mark. Her face looked painted by Michelangelo himself.