In the dim light of dawn, where the mist clung to the ancient mountains like a shroud, Gandalf the White stood tall, his staff glowing faintly with the promise of hidden power. As he approached the narrow pass, a deep rumble echoed through the air, and from the shadows emerged a dragon of breathtaking beauty—a creature of sapphire scales that shimmered with every movement, reflecting the pale light in a cascade of blues. The dragon's eyes, like twin pools of icy fire, locked onto Gandalf's with an intelligence both fierce and ancient.
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