Far from Maddy, a kingdom stood carved into a massive rocky mountain. Endless stairs and stone structures rose into the clouds.
Wind howled as Drakovitch climbed the summit alone. The fog was so thick he had to move carefully, searching for the legendary creature he had come to find. Deep in the mist, a pair of dark purple eyes glinted. Drakovitch's heart skipped a beat.
"So it's true… a dragon really lives here."
A massive serpent like head slithered through the fog. As the mist cleared, obsidian black scales shimmered in the light. The creature's head was larger than a house; Drakovitch was no bigger than one of its teeth. He stood stunned by its beauty.
"I never thought I'd see something so magnificent. I've only seen these in movies and games… but here I am. Facing a dragon."
He slowly reached out to touch the scales. Before his hand landed, the dragon sniffed the air and spoke. Its voice was like grinding stone.
"I know that scent… but that soul is foreign. Who are you?"
Drakovitch pulled his hand back instantly.
"I am King Drakovitch! I am a Dragonborn, born from your very blood, Primordial Tiamat!"
"Do not lie to me!"
The ground shook as the dragon's anger flared.
"Do not insult me with a borrowed name. That body belongs to the King, but the soul does not. Speak the truth!"
Drakovitch swallowed hard. He had never met anyone who could see through his disguise.
"I apologize! I am from another world. I woke up a few days ago in this body, in a land I don't know."
Suddenly, a second dragon head emerged from the fog. This one had shining golden scales. It circled him, judging him.
"From another world… I have lived for a thousand years, yet this is a first. I can see through lies, and he speaks the truth."
Drakovitch raised his hands.
"Yes! That is why I am here. I want to learn about this world… to learn from a Primordial!"
A third head, red as blood burst from the fog, laughing as flames leaked from its jaws.
"A coward who was stabbed by the woman he used to beat?!"
Drakovitch flinched.
"I'm not proud of my past. But I didn't come here to argue about that."
A bronze head with a crystal jaw snarled.
"He stole our last Dragonborn's flesh. We should burn him where he stands."
More heads began to emerge from the mist, surrounding him like a forest of monsters. A silver blue head hissed as lightning danced between its horns.
"Yes, end him. We cannot allow a fake to ruin our bloodline."
A head that looked like it was carved from wood shouted, cutting off the other two heads that were snarling at Drakovitch.
"Morons! If we kill him, our bloodline ends! This body is the last of the Dragonborn!"
A pale white head breathed out a freezing mist, making the air turn cold.
"If only we could find another vessel. But our power is too great for regular humans."
A aqua blue head shimmered, with fins on her jaw.
"Our blood only answers to a rare kind of human… the 'White Ones.' A vessel strong enough to hold us without breaking. We have tried a thousand times with others, and they always shatter."
A steel gray head tilted, its brow arching high with authority.
"Because we are the strongest, we do not hand our blood to lowly creatures! Ten dragons in one body—our blood must be given only to the worthy."
"E-eleven… actually…"
Another voice echoed inside Drakovitch's mind yet the speaker remained hidden somewhere…
The main head, the obsidian one sighed.
"This is why I hate sharing a body. Too many opinions, not enough silence."
The golden head snapped back,
"Blame the woman who fused us! She took every dragon alive and forced us into one!"
Drakovitch stared up at the wall of living gods, his heart pounding.
"As you said, killing me ends the Dragonborn forever. All your work over the centuries would vanish. Only a special human can carry your blood and this body is the proof. But this last dragonborn has been cursed…"
Drakovitch reached for the hem of his tunic and pulled it over his head, tossing the fabric onto the cold stone. The eleven heads of Tiamat recoiled as one, their various eyes narrowing at his chest. There, carved deep into his skin, was a jagged, throbbing golden scar that pulsed with a sickly, holy light.
"This was the price of that war… I woke up in a cursed body. Every day, I feel this scar eating me. It is draining my magic, my might, and my life. I climbed this mountain today because I knew I was running out of time. I didn't want to die before I finally met you."
The silver blue head hissed as it feeling the magic pulsing from the curse.
"A Demigod's curse! Unhh, I can smell the stench of the Primordial Saint on it!"
The golden head looked down at the glowing mark.
"The Demigods were always pests. We fought them for eons. We wiped them out, yes, but at the cost of our entire race. And now, the last vessel of our blood is a walking corpse."
"T-that is why I am here… to ask if there is anything you could do to undo this curse."
The main head answered immediately.
"No. We cannot undo a curse placed by a being born of another Primordial."
"But why? You are the most powerful beings in existence! You could erase this in an instant—it would save the Dragonborn!"
The dragon's eyes narrowed.
"We do not interfere. We Primordials made a solemn promise. Our only purpose is to give our blood. Anything that happens to those who carry it is not our concern. If one of us breaks this rule, a disastrous war will follow."
Drakovitch's silver eyes blazed, and the bones beneath his skin shifted with the strain of his anger.
"That's stupid! You'll just sit here and watch your last bloodline die?!"
The wood head screeched in reply.
"FOOL! That curse is the consequence of human sin! It is your burden, not ours! Would you trade your life for a war that could wipe out everyone?"