In the courtyard bathed in golden dawn sunlight, three ferocious red dragons, covered in vivid red scales, and a pristine white dragon that exuded a chilling aura, were surrounding a white tiger with wings sprouting from its back, all inside the stone palace where Muria resided.
Next to them, a lady with a lithe figure, a youthful face, and a gentle demeanor silently gazed at the white tiger, or rather, at the black-haired, golden-eyed child lying on the fluffy white belly of the tiger, breathing steadily in sleep.
"Muria," one of the Red Dragons quietly called the name of the black-haired boy with an anxious note to her voice. After all, by this time, Muria would typically be up and practicing martial skills and not needing a wake-up call.
"Let him sleep," said the white dragon Clodia, halting the red dragon from calling Muria's name again, as the boy made no response.
"But..." the red dragon was about to say something when Clodia interrupted her again.