His name had been Ahura, back when anyone had called him anything. Back when anyone remembered. Keilha Rohai ans'Ahura, ambitious young noble from a long-vanished kingdom that had occupied the northwest coast of Annwn before ... something happened.
Today was one of his less dream-rapt: he could see the highland castle he'd once commanded as it currently stood: ruinous. Centuries had passed -- at least he guessed so -- so that wasn't too surprising. What he didn't understand is why, lately, his castle always seemed to be full of dragons
Mostly the dragons didn't see him.
Mostly nothing did. Nor did he see them -- save as shadows cast by phantoms on the mist.
But thrice now in recent awakenings, one had stared and barked and pointed. He had startled a pair of mourning doves as he walked the courtyard. And the sky had been shocking, wonderful blue for several minutes.
Everything in the mist-world was a tint of grey.
Keilha Rohai ans'Ahura is possibly the least-playable character who has ever occupied my brain. He inherited the castle that is now Sventa Rilark centuries ago when his older brother was killed.
A dragon, not named.