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Decaffeinated
Gamma loved math. Not the typical hatchling match of 'one for me, three for you' or even the lair math of 'with x number of dragons and these percentages of meat and plants, what kind of hunting do we need to do.' No, Gamma loved the mystery math, the numbers and figures and equations that made the world spin and dictated how high a dragon could fly or how far a rock would be thrown. She loved the math that defined the boundaries of reality.
She loved the math that defied them even more. Which is how she got herself in trouble.
Equations danced in her head all the time, weaving and twisting and reforming into grander puzzles with every turn. The most amazing of them solidified until they sang, as audible to Gamma as music to her lair mates. A siren call the refused to be ignored. Not that Gamma ever really tried.
It was one specific bit of math that haunted her dreams from as far back as her slumber in the shell, a discordant note that refused to fit into any other melody. It spoke of worlds within worlds, of time moving in new ways and space folding like a flower.
She had to find the rest of the song. And so, one day, she left her lair, following her instincts and the hint of a rhythm to a dark place where the sun never seemed to fully rise and silence dominated like an iron-fisted tyrant. But, somewhere, deep under the frozen ocean a note sounded. And Gamma chased it.
Right into a darkness so deep it swallowed her whole. In that void there were other voices, other mathematicians lost in the song. Gamma remembered adding her voice. And then....
She woke up. Somewhere new, a land far, far from her own with a sky unlike any she'd ever dreamed of. A dragon waited there, bright and shining like a rainbow given life.
He offered his hand. "Welcome to the dream realm, Gamma. My name is Drop, and if you are willing, I have a quest for you."
Gamma took the tundra's hand, numbers and formulas waltzing in the air between them, and her new life began.
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