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“That’s where they are you know? People say they’re myth, but so many stories talk about them ascending, evolving. If we ever make it to living among the stars, I’m sure we’ll rediscover dragons.” She paused a moment; they stared at the stars above them, “Do you reckon that the moon could technically be made of cheese?”

The bombs were still falling, louder and louder by the moment. Down in the basement, Owain had lost all sense of time.

Owain stared at the empty space where the boat, The Salmon’s Head, should have been. The rain was heavy, but not enough to obscure an entire trawler, and Salmon Ed and his crew were known for being loud in the mornings. The Harrands, their head family, had dealt with many complaints for the noisy crew.

Amy sat cross-legged in the middle of her new room, staring into oblivion as she realised that the last hundred years of her life were real, and was coming to the conclusion that a century is rather a long time to only have grown one year.