... The black dragon left the village before dawn, so as not to disturb his friends in vain. Only Galya accompanied him. They stood for a long time, embracing, there was nothing to talk about. So, silently, and parted. Already at a height, picking up speed and ripping the night air with sparkling wings, the Wind thought that Galya must be as bad now as he was when Carmine flew away.
The eastern horizon slowly filled with fire. There, across the ocean, the dawn filled the world with a furious explosion of colors, but here, for the time being, exquisite night reigned. The sky under her brush sparkled with such a wealth of shades of blue that the day, ashamed of its own mediocrity, was in no hurry to destroy someone else's picture. From a great height, where the Wind soared, a striking spectacle, unknown to the wingless, opened up - when both the stars and the dark purple Sun shine in the sky at the same time.
The dragon flew north. For many years, Carmine, and with his departure, the Wind itself, warned the winged ones against returning to the shores of the Inner Sea. There, once upon a time, there was a tragedy that none of the dragons remembered, but whose legacy has firmly entered their quiet life. Even today, as an adult, the Wind was afraid of the north and never flew to the Forbidden Mountains, which cut off the ominous sea from the rest of the mainland.