The wind howled through Elderglow's crumbling stone arches, carrying the bitter tang of frost and ash.
Caelum Ashborn stood in the heart of the family courtyard, his threadbare cloak flapping like a wounded bird.
At seventeen, he was lean and sharp-featured, with storm-gray eyes that burned with defiance despite the weight of a hundred scornful gazes.
The Ashborn clan had gathered—nobles in fur-lined robes, knights in polished steel, and servants whispering behind calloused hands—to witness his final humiliation."Caelum, son of no worth," intoned Lord Varrus Ashborn, his father, from the dais.
The patriarch's voice was cold as the obsidian throne he sat upon, his dragon-etched armor glinting under the weak winter sun. "You stand before us, bearing no dragon soul, no spark of the flame that defines our blood. What say you?"
Caelum's jaw tightened. He'd heard these words before, in private, in sneers, in the cruel laughter of his half-brothers.
But today was different. Today, they'd summoned the entire clan to cast him out. His gaze flicked to the girl beside his father—Elysse Varnholt, his betrothed, radiant in a gown of silver silk. Her sapphire eyes, once warm, now held only pity. That pity cut deeper than any blade."I say," Caelum rasped, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest, "that I am Ashborn, same as you. Dragon soul or not, I'll carve my own path."
A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd. His half-brother, Darius, a hulking knight with a flame-red dragon soul, sneered from the front row. "Path? You're a worm crawling in our shadow, Caelum. You shame us all."
Elysse stepped forward, her voice soft but clear. "Caelum, I… I cannot bind my future to a man without power. House Varnholt has chosen another—Sir Alaric of Thunderhold, a true dragon knight."
She lifted her chin, though her fingers trembled at her sides. "Our betrothal is ended."The words landed like a hammer. Caelum's breath caught, not from surprise—he'd heard the rumors—but from the raw, public betrayal.
The crowd's murmurs grew louder, a chorus of mockery.
"Wasteborn," someone hissed. "Curse of the clan."Caelum's hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. He wanted to scream, to draw the rusted sword at his hip and silence them all. But he was no fool. Without a dragon soul, he was nothing against Darius's fire or his father's storm magic.
Not yet."Enough," Lord Varrus barked, rising. "Caelum Ashborn, you are hereby stripped of your name and banished from Elderglow. Leave by dusk, or the knights will drag you out."
Caelum met his father's gaze, searching for a flicker of regret. There was none. Only stone. He turned, shoulders squared, and strode through the parting crowd. Their jeers followed him like wolves, but he kept his head high. He'd survive this. He had to.The forest beyond Elderglow was a labyrinth of frost-crusted pines and jagged cliffs. Caelum trudged through the snow, his cloak doing little against the biting cold. The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in blood and bruise. He carried only his sword, a waterskin, and a knapsack with a crust of bread. Exile, he thought bitterly. A death sentence dressed in words.He stopped at a frozen stream, its surface cracked like a broken mirror. His reflection stared back—hollow-cheeked, eyes haunted but fierce. "No dragon soul," he muttered, kicking a stone into the ice. "No family. No future. What's left, Caelum?"A faint hum answered him, low and resonant, like a distant bell. He froze, hand on his sword hilt. The sound grew louder, vibrating in his chest. A streak of light split the sky—a comet, no, something smaller, blazing with violet fire. It crashed into the forest a hundred yards away, shaking the ground and sending snow cascading from the trees.Caelum's heart raced. A dragon shard? A fallen star? He sprinted toward the impact site, branches clawing at his face. The air grew warm, thick with the scent of ozone and metal. In a clearing, a crater glowed faintly, its center cradling a fist-sized crystal pulsing with otherworldly light. Veins of violet and gold swirled within, like a trapped storm.He reached for it, hesitating. Every tale warned of cursed relics, of fools burned to ash by forbidden power. But what did he have to lose? "If the gods want to mock me further," he growled, "let them try."His fingers closed around the crystal. Pain seared his hand, spreading up his arm like wildfire. He gasped, collapsing to his knees as visions flooded his mind—dragons soaring through starlit skies, a golden throne wreathed in flame, a voice whispering of empires lost. Then, a new voice, sharp and cold, cut through the chaos.
"Apocalypse System activated. Host: Caelum Ashborn. Binding complete."
Caelum's eyes snapped open. The pain was gone, but the crystal had vanished, its warmth now pulsing in his chest. He staggered to his feet, breath fogging in the air. "What… what are you?" he demanded, feeling foolish for speaking to nothing.
"I am the Apocalypse System," the voice replied, echoing in his skull. "A gift from beyond the stars, forged to shape a dragon emperor. Your soul is weak, but your will is strong. Serve me, and I will make you unstoppable."
Caelum's lips twitched into a grim smile. "Serve? I'm done bowing to anyone. Tell me what you can do, or I'll find a way to rip you out."A translucent panel flickered before his eyes, like a mage's illusion. Words scrawled across it:
Host Status:Name: Caelum AshbornDragon Soul: None (Latent Potential Detected)
Level: Mortal Tier 1Skills: Basic SwordsmanshipSystem Points: 0
New Quest: Spark of DefianceObjective: Slay the frostwolf stalking the forest to prove your resolve.
Reward: Dragon Soul Awakening, 100 System Points, Beginner's Flame Elixir Recipe
Failure: Death
Caelum stared, his pulse quickening. A dragon soul. The one thing he'd been denied his entire life. "You're saying… I can become like them? Like Darius? Better?"
"Better," the system purred. "But power is earned, not given. The frostwolf approaches. Choose: fight or flee."
A low growl rumbled behind him. Caelum spun, drawing his sword as a massive frostwolf emerged from the shadows. Its fur was white as snow, its eyes glowing blue, fangs bared in a snarl. The beast was twice his size, a predator that could tear knights apart.Fear clawed at his gut, but he shoved it down. He'd faced worse today—betrayal, exile, the death of his name. "You want defiance?" he spat, gripping his sword. "I'll show you defiance."The frostwolf lunged, and Caelum charged to meet it, his blade flashing in the moonlight. Whatever this system was, whatever this world demanded, he'd carve his vengeance in blood and flame.