Night fell heavy over Eldhollow.
Daniel slept restlessly, fingers curled over his marked wrist, unaware that beyond the mortal veil, the world stirred.
Above the village, beyond sight and sound, a gate of shimmering moonlight opened in the sky, revealing a vast stone hall carved from twilight itself. Runes pulsed along soaring pillars — symbols older than kingdoms, older than memory.
This was the Council of the Veiled — where the hidden races kept uneasy peace.
Figures stood around a circular table forged from fallen stardust. Shadows whispered between them. Power crackled in the silence.
A woman with silver leaves woven into her hair spoke first, voice soft but firm.
"The Seal trembles."
An armored knight of pure flame slammed his gauntlet on the marble. Embers scattered like sparks.
"It is weakening faster than foretold. Three links are broken."
A hooded figure hissed from the shadows — scales glimmering beneath the cloak.
"Something… stirs beneath. The Obscura hunger."
A ripple of fear passed through the chamber.
Then another voice — deep, ancient, resonant like mountains shifting — filled the room.
"The Keeper has awakened."
Heads turned as a towering man with gold eyes and scaled patterns along his skin stepped forward.
A Dragon.
Ancient. Proud. Terrifying.
But his face carried worry, not wrath.
"The Light has marked him."
The council erupted.
"Elves" whispered fearfully.
"Spirits" retreated like mist.
"Lycan emissaries" bristled.
The Fae's pupils sharpened like blades.
"Impossible."
"He cannot rise again."
"The Gate must not open."
The dragon raised a hand, silencing them with a wave of ancient authority.
"The Keeper is untrained. Confused. Exposed."
A feathered Seraph Guardian slammed his spear down — wings trembling.
"Then he must be brought to the Sanctuary!"
A vampire lord sneered, crimson eyes glowing.
"Or killed before the darkness finds him first."
Energy surged. Fangs bared. Claws glinted. Light and shadow flared.
But the dragon's roar shook the chamber.
"None will lay a claw on the boy."
Silence.
The Seraph stepped closer. "You speak as if he belongs to you, Draconian."
Golden eyes burned.
"He is under my protection."
"Yours?" the vampire spat. "Or the witch's?"
The council murmured.
Maren.
The Witch of Eldhollow.
The last Seal Guardian.
Quiet power radiated through the hall at her name.
The Fae woman leaned forward, eyes sharp and knowing.
"Your son walks among mortals, does he not? Close to the Keeper?"
The dragon's jaw tightened — the faintest crack in his calm.
He answered slowly.
"He watches him. That is all."
A spark of sarcasm from the vampire:
"A dragon prince babysitting a human boy. What times we live in."
The dragon's aura cracked — heat rippled, stone smoking — but he mastered himself.
The council chair, ancient and robed in star-dust, finally spoke. Their voice was neither male nor female, but infinite.
"Whether protected or prey, the Keeper must remain unaware."
A collective breath.
"Interfere… and the prophecy accelerates."
The dragon bowed reluctantly.
The Seraph lowered his spear.
The vampire smiled thinly — plotting already.
"What of the demon lord?" a spirit warden whispered.
The High Seer answered, voice trembling.
"He gathers his servants. He hunts."
A chill swept the chamber.
"If the Keeper falls to him…"
They did not finish the sentence.
They did not need to.
Across realms, shadows stirred — and somewhere deep in the underworld, a monstrous presence smiled.
---
The silver gate faded.
The council dissolved like mist.
---
Back in Eldhollow, a sleepy village unaware of the cosmic storm looming, Daniel jolted awake — sweating, breath catching, heart racing.
Not because of dreams.
Because he felt it.
A heartbeat — not his — deep in the earth.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
And a whisper that wasn't a whisper at all, crawling from the void:
> "They gather, Keeper. And so must you."
Daniel clutched his glowing arm, shivering.
Something watched him from the dark.
And somewhere under the same sky…
a dragon opened his eyes.