The Dragon's Run

This is a long-delayed homage. My tribute to one of the best things ever written in fantasy––a work of power, beauty and simplicity. A remarkable feat of world creation and poetry; a masterpiece for the ages.
"As the sun brightened above the eastern mists, the tiny wheeling specks in the air that Arren watched seemed to sparkle, like gold-dust shaken in water, or dust-motes in a sunbeam. And then Arren realized they were dragons.
As Lookfar approached the islands Arren saw the dragons soaring and circling on the morning wind, and his heart leapt up with them with a joy, a joy of fulfillment, that was like pain. All the glory of mortality was in that flight. Their beauty was made up of terrible strength, and utter wildness, and the grace of reason. For these were thinking creatures, with speech, and ancient wisdom; in the patterns of their flight there was a fierce, willed concord.
Arren did not speak, but he thought: I do not care what comes after; I have seen the dragons on the wind of morning".
––The Farthest Shore (1973), Ursula Kroeber LeGuin