Kidora's appetite had grown monstrously along with its body. It seemed to devour everything in sight, with a particular fondness for grinding its sharp teeth on metal. Watching it gnaw away at a rusted blade with ease, Rayder couldn't help but shake his head.
"This little guy is eating me out of house and home," he muttered, glancing at his rapidly depleting storage space. "And now he's treating iron like it's jerky. I can barely afford to keep him fed."
Yet, despite the complaints, there was a glimmer of affection in Rayder's eyes. Kidora, for all its trouble, had become one of his few genuine companions in the desolate ruins of Valyria.
As night fell, the sky above Valyria deepened into a suffocating black, like ink spilled across the heavens. Stars appeared reluctantly, sparse and timid, as though even celestial bodies feared the ominous landscape below.
Inside the shelter of the dragon's lair—carved deep into the cliffs of a long-extinct volcano—Rayder made his preparations. He checked the weapon at his waist: a modified sword reinforced with salvaged steel and dragon claw etchings for grip. He adjusted the straps of his leather armor and gave Kidora a firm pat. The little dragon wiggled in excitement, tail sweeping dust from the cavern floor.
Tonight, they would hunt.
Rayder turned to the two adult dragons—Black Dragon Im and Red Dragon Egon—his primary companions and protectors. He approached Im's broad, scaled side and prepared to mount.
But something was wrong.
Before he could swing onto the saddle, both dragons reacted violently. Im let out a low, menacing growl, the kind that reverberated deep in the chest. Egon exhaled a hot puff of air, flames licking the stone walls, eyes full of agitation.
They blocked his path with their massive heads, growling, growling louder this time.
"What's going on?" Rayder muttered.
But he didn't need to ask twice. The bond he shared with them wasn't just emotional—it was woven into their blood. Through their mental connection, emotions and instincts surged into Rayder's consciousness like a crashing wave.
Danger.
Thicker mist.
Something is watching.
The warnings were primal, carved into the DNA of dragonkind. Rayder could feel the edge of fear creeping up his spine. He knew well that the ruins were far more dangerous at night. During the day, they were deadly. But at night? They were alive.
Monsters and things that defied logic roamed freely in the darkness. Black mist slithered through the ruins like sentient poison, and even the bravest predators became prey.
Rayder sighed but didn't back down. He met Im's piercing gaze, then Egon's.
"I know," he said firmly. "But we don't have a choice."
His voice was calm, resolute. "If we stay here, we starve. No food, no evolution points. No future."
The dragons hesitated. Then, sensing his unshakable will, they slowly moved aside. Im gave a long, low huff that sounded almost like resignation. Egon's eyes still sparkled with warning, but he, too, backed down.
Rayder climbed onto Im's back. The black-scaled dragon spread his wings with a mighty rustle, kicking up dust and grit. Egon followed close behind, lifting off with a roar that echoed across the ruins.
As for Kidora, the little dragon didn't seem to share the caution of its elders. It flapped its wings eagerly and leaped from the stone platform, its youthful chirps piercing the night air. For all its size, it moved with the enthusiasm of a hatchling, unbothered by the lurking terrors of the darkness.
They didn't fly far.
Rayder was cautious. He directed Im to circle the airspace around their home—a vast crater-ringed volcano that had long gone dormant. From this high vantage point, he peered down at the sleeping ruins below.
Except they weren't sleeping anymore.
Now that the sun was gone, the Valyria Ruins had awakened—horribly, vividly alive.
In the darkness, creatures stirred.
Packs of wild dogs with matted fur and exposed bone slunk through alleyways, growling low and hungry.
Mutated lizards the size of panthers darted across shattered walls, their limbs twitching with unnatural grace.
Farther out, the shadows of predatory beasts roamed. Striped tigers with split jaws. Horned lions. Ghostly panthers that flickered in and out of sight, like illusions.
Overhead, winged scavengers circled, watching, waiting.
But these were merely the familiar horrors.
What chilled Rayder more were the unfamiliar ones.
Massive fire-earthworms, thick as oil drums, glowed with a smoldering red light as they churned through the cracked earth.
Swarming venom ants, emerald green and shimmering under the moonlight, flooded over ruined plazas like living carpets.
And countless insects—some translucent, others armored—crawled and fluttered with grotesque elegance. The night didn't hide them. It revealed them.
Rayder's breath caught. "What a hunting ground…"
But there was no time for awe. His grip tightened on the hilt of his blade.
He gave the signal.
Im dived.
The hunt began with flame.
Twin torrents of fire—one crimson, one jet-black—erupted from Im and Egon's jaws, sweeping across a pack of wild dogs. The beasts had barely noticed the dragons before they were incinerated, their shrieks cutting through the night.
The smell of burning flesh rose instantly, thick and pungent.
Rayder leaned forward, peering through the smoke.
And then… he saw it.
From the flames, something emerged.
A flicker. A shape.
A white shadow, nearly invisible, drifting upward from the charred remains like a lost soul.
It vanished almost instantly—but not before Rayder caught sight of it.
"What… was that?"
A chill crawled down his neck. It was no illusion.
Then came the sound.
A wail.
Not of an animal, nor a beast, but a human—anguished, shrill, soul-shaking. The scream pierced the night like a blade.
Rayder grimaced, expecting some kind of mental attack.
But strangely, his body remained unaffected.
He turned to check on the dragons—and his heart dropped.
Egon, his reliable red-scaled partner, faltered mid-flight.
The powerful wingbeats slowed.
Its body sagged. Like a drunk losing balance, Egon began to spiral downward.
"Egon!"
Rayder shouted, his voice raw with urgency.
He opened the system panel linked to Egon's stats.
One word lit up the screen like a curse carved in fire:
Status: Cursed
The "Aging" debuff that had once plagued Egon was gone—but in its place was something even worse.
Curse.
Rayder's mind raced. That thing—whatever had floated out of those wild dog corpses—had cursed Egon.
Before he could think further, Egon's massive form was plummeting fast, about to crash into a jagged outcropping of stone.
"Im! Catch him!" Rayder bellowed.
Im didn't hesitate.
With a roar that split the sky, the black dragon twisted midair, diving after its falling companion.
With claws like iron, Im caught Egon's tail just meters before impact, wings flaring to slow the descent. The ground shuddered as dust and pebbles exploded beneath them.
Egon hung limp in Im's grasp, breathing shallow and ragged.
Rayder cursed under his breath.
This wasn't just a dangerous night.
Something had changed in the ruins.
Something darker than before. Something that watched.
The black mist swirled thicker than ever below, and from its shifting depths, Rayder felt eyes—eyes with no form or soul—gazing upward.
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