All tales have a beginning.

Ours begins with a dragon. She woke at the mouth of a cave, high upon the mountainside. Below her lay a world of dark forests and cold, still lakes. But beyond them, far in the distance, she saw something strange. Lights. Thousands of them. They glittered in the darkness like scattered gold, burning against the night. She had never seen such a thing. Yet she could not look away. They called to her.

So the dragon descended.

Down the winding mountain path. Down through the trees. Until at last she came upon a Torii gate, standing silent beneath the moon. And as she passed beneath it, something changed. A strange feeling crept through her body. Her vision blurred. The world shifted. She looked down. Her claws were gone. In their place were hands. Small. Soft. Weak. Human hands. She stood there beneath the gate, staring at them in silence.

What did this mean?