Arveiaturace wanted to keep pursuing magic, but she had to think about how she would feel in the future... She knew she could no longer endure things the way she had when she was young.
Her former master, Melsroth... had actually been quite good to her. He had just grown a little long-winded with age, always hoping she would turn out to be a good girl. Arveiaturace thought she had done remarkably well for a White Dragon, putting up with years of nagging. But if Melsroth thought she would change from Lawful Evil to Lawful Neutral, perhaps old age had muddled his mind.
Of everyone Arveiaturace had known over the years, Laira was the only one whose temperament made her think that living together for thousands, even tens of thousands, of years would not be unbearable.
Arauthator was reading too much into it... No matter how handsome a male master might be, she would never choose one. How could she put it? She still preferred being a dragon...
No matter how attractive someone was, it meant little when their sizes were so mismatched.
That Dragonrage had been too stark a warning. If the humans had not ended the turmoil in time, Arveiaturace suspected she would have gone mad too. Toward the end, the defensive magic array Melsroth had left behind had nearly given out... If she and Arauthator had both been gravely wounded, what hope would they have had?
So even though she had reached a tentative understanding with the Cult of the Dragon, Arveiaturace was reluctant to become a Dracolich. She could not shake the feeling that there was a trap waiting for her.
But if she truly could not find a better way... a skeleton was still better than death, wasn't it?
After discussing it with Arauthator for