### **Year 500 — Sunrise**
As night fell atop the highest mountains, a thunderous battle shook the world. The ground trembled under the weight of thousands of wings; the winds howled like enraged beasts. It seemed the end had come.
Gigantic shadows of dragons cut across the sky, casting an ancient fear over the kingdoms below. But all attacks were focused on a single dragon — a black, obsidian-like beast, larger and more imposing than all others.
**ROAR!**
Noctarion's roar echoed like thunder, reverberating across the mountains and tearing through the clouds. Each roar carried millennia of power and anguish, an echo of his ancient sovereignty now threatened.
— **Noctarion…** — bellowed the red dragon, his voice filled with fire and fury. — How long will you continue to challenge us? It's over!
— **Over?** — replied Noctarion, his black scales reflecting the flames. — You dare call me a tyrant? I am the sovereign of dragons! I carry millennia of power!
— Too much power to exist! — advanced Nyxar, the gray dragon with scarlet eyes, claws glinting with blood and rage. — You've killed thousands of our brethren. How many more must fall before you are stopped?
— Innocents? — roared Noctarion, eyes like burning coals. — You don't understand! Balance is my duty! You… are blind to the world I have upheld for ages!
— We have seen too much blood! — Nyxar's voice cut like a blade. — Today ends, brother. Today, your reign ends.
— Then come! — roared Noctarion, flapping his wings with fury. — Try to bring me down! Try to destroy what I am! I am the last sovereign of dragons, and not even you… not even you can erase me!
**PLUF! CRASH!**
Rain began to fall, cold and heavy, a harbinger of what was to come. Each drop hammered the mountain, each thunderclap resonating as if the world itself were witnessing the tragedy.
The red dragon unleashed a torrent of fire. Noctarion dodged but could not escape entirely. The heat burned his scales like a thousand blades slicing through his body.
Nyxar struck with lethal speed, claws raking across Noctarion's black back, tearing flesh and scales.
— Nyxar — muttered Noctarion, his voice trembling with pain and disappointment — **you disappoint me, brother…**
As the other dragons attacked relentlessly, pushing Noctarion downward, he plummeted from the sky, his roars echoing like thunder, sending smoke, shattered stones, and the metallic scent of ozone flying through the air.
The mountains shook under the impact; cracks appeared in the rocks, sparks scattered. Even in defeat, his colossal body and glowing eyes radiated a power no other dragon had ever possessed.
The world seemed to hold its breath. The last sovereign of dragons had been defeated…
---
### **Year 502 — Sunrise (Two Years Later)**
Two years had passed since that historic battle. The world followed its routine, yet the echoes of tragedy still reverberated through every kingdom.
In the small village of **Ashvale**, at the edge of an ancient and dangerous forest, the sunrise painted the wooden rooftops and dirt streets gold. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and dense vegetation, reminding all that the forest held secrets few dared to confront.
Among the villagers walked a young man with intense eyes and black hair, wearing simple clothes but carrying a presence that revealed determination and ambition. His name was **Aegon Draemir**. At only fifteen, his gaze reflected dreams far bigger than this forgotten village.
As he watched the first rays of sunlight reflect on puddles from the previous night's rain, Aegon felt a constant unease. Ashvale was small and ignored by the king, but within him grew a desire to change everything.
*He always believed blood didn't define anything.*
Why was royalty at the top? Because they had royal blood? Because they were noble? Or because they were powerful? And why were there so many commoners? Why did no one challenge this system? They simply accepted it.
Royal blood was red, probably tasting the same as his own. So why was their blood considered "better"? Should he accept his fate? *Never!*
To Aegon, royal blood was the same as anyone else's. Anyone could become kings and queens. But in this world, **the title of king was given only to the child of the current monarch**, perpetuating privileges and injustice.
If he ever became king, **his child would inherit the same privileges**. And if anyone dared challenge or try to usurp the throne? Let them try. Aegon was determined to prove that courage, determination, and ambition outweighed any bloodline.
**He was not naive.** He knew how the world worked. Many kinds of beasts existed, each stronger than the other. But none ruled the skies like dragons.
---
### **The Mystery of Dragons and the Kingdom of Aeva**
No one understood why dragons did not attack humans. It was as if, at any moment, they could descend upon the kingdoms, yet never did.
It was said that the **Kingdom of Aeva**, the most powerful and feared, possessed an overwhelming power that kept dragons at bay — but this had never been proven.
Of the fifteen surviving kingdoms, nine paid tributes to Aeva, while the remaining six, strong and allied, remained beyond its control. Should Aeva ever decide to attack all kingdoms, the devastation would be unimaginable. For now, balance was maintained, and all kingdoms feared both Aeva's might and the dragons' fury.
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### **The Encounter in the Forest**
While patrolling the skies of **Aurenor**, Noctora noticed something unusual: a dark movement stirred among the shadows. **Noctarion!** — he thought, shocked. — It can't be…
But there was another presence: a boy walked alone near the forest. Noctora descended silently, landing between the trees. His eyes glowed as he observed the youth. Wings moving slowly, tail swaying in alert.
With a deep, commanding voice, he ordered:
— **Hey, boy! Enter the forest.**
Don't go too far; just see if something is wrong there.
Aegon swallowed hard, surprised by the dragon's presence and direct command. For a moment, he considered retreating, but he knew disobedience could be fatal. Every step he took echoed on the damp ground, and the forest seemed alive, watching his movements. Even without fully seeing Noctora, he felt the dragon's eyes following every gesture, ready to intervene at the first sign of danger.
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### **Aegon's Monologue**
Step by step, Aegon advanced, knowing the danger was real and deadly.
*Damn it, why do I have to go? These idiots… What if I die? Damn, I haven't even kissed anyone yet…*
He thought, as anger built inside him. He was still young, inexperienced, and could die from something he didn't fully understand. Yet the fury mixed with curiosity ignited something within him: he needed to become stronger, no matter the cost.
---
### **Scars of War**
Two years ago, the dragons' battle had devastated the kingdoms brutally. The **Kingdom of Pyrrthion** suffered the worst: half its cities were reduced to rubble, thousands crushed beneath ruins or burned by flames; others died of famine when crops and reserves were destroyed.
Survivors were attacked by raiders exploiting the chaos, spreading violence, murder, and atrocities against women and children. No kingdom of Aurenor remained intact — cities and villages were obliterated, leaving deep scars still echoing in the world's memory.
Even in small Ashvale, Aegon could feel the echoes of that conflict. Every step in the forest reminded him that the past was not over, and that the unexpected was about to strike again…
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