Long ago, when man was young and the dragon already old, the wisest of our race took pity on man. He gathered together all the dragons, making them vow to watch over man, always. And at the moment of his death, the night became alive with those stars. And thus was born the Dragons’ Heaven. But when we die, not all dragons are admitted to this shining place. No, we have to earn it…


Draco: “Have you been watching over me all night?" 

Bowen: "I’ve.. been thinking." 

Draco: "Yes? About what?”

Bowen: “Many things.. mostly about what to call you. I think I’ve found you a name.”

Draco: “You say that as if you’ve reached up and plucked it from the sky.”

Bowen: “I did. Up there. Do you see that group of stars?”

Draco: “I know those stars.. very well.”

Bowen: “Do you see the shape that they make?”

Draco: “Mhm. A Dragon.”

Bowen: “Yes. They call it Draco. It means ‘dragon,’ in the scholar speech.”

Draco: “So instead of calling me Dragon in your tongue, you’ll call me dragon in some other tongue?”

Bowen: “You’re right.. it’s silly.”

Draco: “No, I would be honoured to be named after those stars, I.. I truly would. Thank you Bowen. Draco.. Draco..”