The moon hung low over Telmar as the last embers of the village fires flickered out. Kael stood on the cliffs overlooking the Dark Valley; the broken remains of the silver necklace clutched in his hand. The wind carried whispers of both fear and hope from the villagers below.
Lira approached silently, her cloak wrapped tightly against the cold. "The demons won't stop," Kael said. The Valley stirs again."
"I know," Kael said, his voice heavy with the dragon's growl still lingering in it. "But I felt something tonight—something deeper than rage. The dragon... it remembers a war for older than this."
His grandfather joined them, the staff glowing faintly. "That memory is now your burden. The necklace didn't just bind the dragon. It sealed its oath. An oath to guard these lands until the end of time."
Kael turned his golden gaze toward the horizon. "Then I'll carry that oath. But I won't become a monster to do it."
He spread his wings, silver light reflecting off the cliffs like moonlit steel. "From this night on, the Dark Valley will know I'm coming for them."
Lira rested her spear on her shoulder and smirked faintly. "Then we'll fight as one. Boy and Dragon."
The wind howled as Kael launched into the night, his roar mingling with the whisper of the moonlight—a promise, and a warning.