Atop the high mountains, where only the whispers of wind dare to linger, Diana stood alone, her gaze fixed upon the distant silhouette of Evok Castle. Her eyes followed the trail of black smoke rising from its ramparts, while violet mists slithered through the rivers below like cursed blood.
A wicked smile crept across her lips, followed by a piercing laugh that echoed through the hills, a sound laced with venom, like the hiss of a viper.In a low, slow murmur filled with hatred, she whispered:
"This is only the beginning... Harold."
Then she turned, vanishing between the hills, as if the earth itself had swallowed her whole.
Within the castle, the scene was one of calamity, not celebration.Soldiers lay unconscious, nobles had either fled or collapsed in panic. What was meant to be a grand celebration of Princess Adra's birthday had unraveled into a catastrophe. A stain upon the honor of the Kingdom of Evok, one that would not be easily forgotten.
Inside the royal study, Orin stood with a sealed message in his hand, its wax imprinted with the emblem of a black dragon. He stared at it in silent dread until the doors opened and King Harold stepped in.
Orin turned sharply, extending the message with a trembling hand.
"My lord... it bears the Black Dragon's seal."
The king snatched it swiftly and asked, his tone sharp:
"What is this, Orin?"
Orin's voice wavered as he answered, his face pale:
"I fear my suspicions are beginning to take form, sire. The message reads: 'This is only the beginning.' And I dread what may follow."
Harold read the note aloud, his eyes narrowing, then slammed it furiously upon his desk. He sank into his chair, pressing his hands to his brow, anxiety gnawing at him.
"How did this letter reach Adra's chamber? Is it some ruse meant to frighten us? Or part of a greater conspiracy to break our unity and sow chaos in the kingdom?"
He looked up at Orin, voice heavy with defeat:
"All I wanted was to protect the realm... to rebuild it. I thought this celebration could mark a new era, but it may be the beginning of our downfall."
Orin stepped forward, voice firm yet steady:
"Your Majesty, do not despair. If this is the work of ordinary enemies, we will confront them as we always have. But if the hand behind it is the heir of the dragon… then these events are not mere threats, they are signs, long foreseen.
The poison... the mist... each is a piece of the prophecy."
The king bowed his head, as if the weight of the crown grew heavier with each word. He murmured:
"As if the curse of war never truly left us... Tell me, how is Victoria? What did the physician say?"
Orin answered gently:
"She has awakened, sire. Her condition is stable. I will visit her now, if I may."
Harold gave a weary nod, eyes still distant.
Just as Orin reached the door, Harold's voice stopped him:
"And what of Adra?"
Orin paused, then replied:
"She is stable... but has yet to wake."
He placed a hand on the doorknob, hesitated, then turned back with a look of quiet disappointment.
"My king… have you not visited her?"
The king replied while organizing his scattered documents:
"Of course… I have some affairs to tend to. I shall follow you shortly to Victoria's chamber."
But Orin lifted his head slowly, eyes heavy with sadness.
"I knew you would see the queen, Your Majesty… but I was speaking of the princess. I meant Adra."
With that, he opened the door and left in silence, closing it softly behind him, leaving the king alone in the stillness of the room, haunted by words that struck deeper than any sword.
Harold knew Orin sensed the growing coldness between him and Adra. But what could he do? Deep within, he could not bring himself to embrace a girl who bore no royal blood, especially while his true daughter, Luna, still lived in hiding, tucked away in the arms of a poor farmer, far from palace intrigue.
The king sighed, rising to his feet with reluctance, dragging his steps toward Adra's chamber, footfall heavier than the last, as though every step led him closer to a truth he was not yet ready to face.
While the Kingdom of Evok was drowning in one of its darkest hours, far from its trembling walls, high in the unforgiving mountains, a secret cave lay hidden within the ancient stone.
Deep inside, where no sunlight could penetrate and no whisper of life dared intrude, rested the last heir of the dragons—Prince Eiryx. He lay surrounded by glowing energy stones, feeding on their pulsing essence, drawing strength from the silent rage that burned in his immortal veins.
In the corner of the cave, a crystal orb shimmered faintly, showing live visions from the gates of Castle Evok. Yet despite the chaos unraveling within its walls, there was no triumph in Eiryx's heart. Only hate—deep, old, and smoldering. A hatred that would not be quenched until he reclaimed his rightful power from the human princess.
Diana entered the cavern with measured steps, her cloak concealing her face. She pulled it back and laid it aside, bowing slightly as she spoke in a low, reverent tone:
"Greetings, my prince… the Dragon."
But Eiryx did not respond. His gaze remained fixed on the orb, watching the mortal kingdohis enemy—with a gaze that held no warmth.
Diana turned toward the energy stones scattered around him. Still glowing. Still untouched. A sign he hadn't fed from them today. She stepped forward, attempting to pierce his silence with a hesitant smile:
"Do you not feel victorious, my lord? Was this not a crushing blow to the Kingdom of Evok?"
Only then did Eiryx turn to her, his eyes inscrutable. With a flick of his massive tail, he struck the orb aside—it clattered against the cave wall and rolled into a shadowed corner. Diana startled, rushing to retrieve it as she asked, concerned:
"What troubles you, my prince?"
Eiryx's voice thundered through the cavern, raw with grief and vengeance:
"This… is not what I seek, Diana. This is not enough. My patience wears thin. I do not desire mere disorder,I crave vengeance. I long to reclaim my homeland, to avenge my parents's fall, and punish every last soul who played a hand in the destruction of my kind."
His tail coiled around Diana's body, firm and unrelenting, as his voice dropped to a growl:
"No human shall rule this land again. It will be mine. And only those untainted by the sins of the past shall walk upon it."
He gazed into her eyes, his own brimming with fire:
"Humans are traitors, Diana. Deceivers. I've yet to see how many faces they wear, how many lies they breathe."
Then, with a sharp motion, he released her and pulled away, speaking with deadly focus:
"What is the next step, Diana? When will I receive the human form I need to enter the castle?"
A chill ran through her spine. The sheer force of his anger, the hunger in his eyes—it all whispered of a storm no one could withstand. And worst of all, she saw it clearly: not a flicker of trust shone in his gaze.
Still, she composed herself, voice trembling as she answered:
"My prince, you know the prophecy. The royal power can only be claimed once the princess reaches the age of full maturity ,when the ancient force awakens fully within her. The energy you seek… the bloodline of dragons… it will be yours. Soon. Just a little longer, and you will have your vengeance. Your crown. Your dominion."
Eiryx said nothing. His eyes turned upward, toward the narrow crack in the ceiling through which a sliver of sky could be seen. He stared long and hard, as if willing the heavens to hasten the day he had waited for all his life—the day the fire would rise again.