PEACEFUL NIGHT • LONGAN DRAGON

O2.

Observing their offspring cradled in their arms, akin to a delicate hatchling, stirred a curiosity within them, yet failed to thaw the icy veneer of their heart—or so Longan believed. The little child had become so accustomed to Longan's harsh attitude that she unknowingly accepted such treatment as normal fatherly affection.

Longan contemplated the irony of having a child who found comfort in their cold demeanor, it made them question whether they had completely failed as both parent and guardian.

Feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down upon them, Longan carefully made their way through familiar corridors bathed in moonlight that streaked through stained-glass windows. Each step they took seemed to bring them closer to their sanctum yet further away from who they once were - a guardian of an age long past.

Their daughter stirred slightly as they crossed over a carpet woven with threads of gold and silver; her eyes fluttered open for just a brief moment before closing again into peaceful slumber. Despite everything, seeing this reminded them of why they kept fighting - not only for themselves but also for those dearer than life itself.

Upon reaching their chambers, Longan gently settled their daughter onto the plush bedding, tenderly tucking her in for the night. Standing over her, their gaze lingered upon her broken horn - an irrevocable reminder of past traumas yet another reason why they must remain vigilant about protecting her from harm's way.

As the Ivory Dragon tenderly adjusted the covers around their sleeping child, they couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at their heart. They had failed to shield her from danger once - an oversight that left its mark in physical form as well as emotional turmoil.

Lowering their gaze towards her broken horn now gently glowing under soft moonlight seeping through ornate windows, Longan vowed with renewed determination not to let such vulnerabilities be targeted again. The weight of responsibility bore down heavily upon them; it was no longer about preserving ancient traditions or maintaining order within realms unknown but safeguarding what little light remained amidst darkness creeping closer every day.

With determination now burning brighter than ever before within their eyes, Longan whispered softly while casting a protective gaze upon their daughter: "You may not know what lies ahead or how much pain this world can inflict... But I promise you shall always be safe under my watch."

The room was filled with the gentle sound of the child's soft snores, Longan's heart heavy with guilt as they watched their precious cub sleep peacefully in bed. Despite having been injured and deprived of her horn, she remained resilient and cheerful, a testament to her innocence and unwavering spirit.

Longan stood there, watching over their child in a state of contemplation. They had been an Ivory Dragon who ruled with iron will and steely resolve but now found themselves dwelling on guilt that weighed heavily upon their soul - not for the power or dominion they held but due to failing their offspring as she lay sleeping innocently before them.

The thought echoed through silent chambers like ripples within still waters; if only it were possible to undo past mistakes and protect her from harm without fail... A longing sigh escaped Longan's lips while gazing down at the little girl nestled cosily into slumber beneath silken covers bathed under moonlit glow streaming through stained-glass windows embodying hues of dusk sky above.

With a heavy heart, the Ivory Dragon took one last look at their sleeping daughter and then silently retreated from the room - leaving behind an echo of emotions that seemed to linger in every nook and cranny like whispers carried by moonlight.

As they strolled through the empty, cold corridors of their lustrous palace, the desire to restore ancient order lingered within their mind. Centuries of dormancy made them keen to eradicate all cookie-kind, intensifying upon awakening in this new era. Each audacious cookie they encountered met a fate of being turned to stone. Known as the Ivory Dragon, feared by all and fearless in most regards, their sole dread lay in failing their daughter again and the prospect of losing her once more.

As they finally reached the throne room, exhaustion and frustration etched across their slumped shoulders, they collapsed onto the massive stone throne atop the dais, arms splayed across its broad armrest. The weight of safeguarding their daughter while attempting to erase all cookie-kind burdened them like a suffocating blanket of gloom, snuffing out any flicker of warmth and tenderness within. Reflecting on their own cruel and distant behavior towards their precious cub, which had led to her distress and tears, a wave of guilt washed over them. They struggled to reconcile their deep love for the five-year-old child with their difficulty in displaying kindness.

The weight of their thoughts and actions finally took a toll on the Ivory Dragon as exhaustion crept up like an uninvited guest. Seeking solace, they leaned heavily against the grand throne, its cold stone offering a semblance of support. The encroaching night draped the surroundings in an air of slumbering tranquility, while Longan's breaths matched the rhythmic whispers of the night under the gentle moonlight filtering through the high stained-glass windows. In this moment of quiet solitude, a yearning for respite from their burdensome duties and a fleeting desire for peaceful reprieve stirred within the exhausted soul of the Ivory Dragon.