6:00 p.m. - At Village
Rain hammered the square, soaking everything in a curtain of cold. Ryan's heart raced as the dragon vanished into the shadows. The village lay in ruins, smoke curling among the wreckage. Yet, life clung stubbornly amidst the devastation. The cries of the frightened villagers pulled him forward, their desperation outweighing his own fear.
As the chaos unfolded, a woman emerged from the smoke, her clothes scorched and eyes wide with terror.
"Help us!" she cried, her voice trembling. "My husband is trapped!"
Ryan's heart pounded as he approached her, seeing the panic etched on her face. Her hands were stained with soot, clawing at the rubble with desperation.
"Where is he?" Ryan asked, urgency lacing his tone.
"In there!" she pointed toward the crumbled structure, her breath quickening. "He was trying to save the children when it collapsed. You have to help him!"
Staring at the wreckage, Ryan felt a surge of determination. "We can do this together," he said, kneeling beside her. "On three—lift!"
"Wait!" A young boy's voice shouted from beside them. Ryan turned to see a small figure rushing forward—a boy no older than eight, with a face smeared with dirt and eyes filled with fear. "I need to help my dad!"
"Stay back!" Selene called out, her voice filled with concern. "It's too dangerous!"
"No! I have to help him!" the boy insisted, trembling but resolute.
"Come on, Aelric!" Selene urged, her eyes pleading for him to understand the danger. "We can't risk you getting hurt."
"My father is in there!" Aelric's voice broke, desperation sinking into his tone.
Ryan quickly assessed the situation and made a decision. "He can help. We need all the strength we can get. But he has to stay behind me," he said, looking directly at Aelric. "Can you do that?"
"Yes!" Aelric nodded, determination shining through his fear as he stepped closer, positioning himself next to Ryan.
"Okay. On three," Ryan said again, rallying the growing tension. "One… Two… Three—lift!"
They heaved against the heavy wooden beams, sweat beading on their foreheads as they strained.
"Can you hear me?" Selene shouted, her voice cracking with worry. "Can you hear me? He's coming!"
A faint reply echoed from beneath the debris. "I'm here!" a voice called out, filled with pain.
"There! He's alive!" Selene gasped, tears of
They heaved against the heavy wooden beams, sweat beading on their foreheads as they strained.
"Can you hear me?" she shouted, her voice cracking with worry. "Can you hear me? He's coming!"
A faint reply echoed from beneath the debris. "I'm here!" a voice called out, filled with pain.
"There! He's alive!" she gasped, tears of relief beginning to shine in her eyes.
With one last push, the beams shifted. Together, they cleared a space just wide enough for him to stagger free, bruised but breathing.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace him. "I thought I'd lost you."
Ryan watched the scene unfold, feeling the warmth of their bond amidst the destruction. "What are your names?" he asked, finally breaking the spell of the frantic moment.
"I'm Selene," the woman said, her smile of relief brightening the dark atmosphere. "And this is my husband, Jonas."
It didn't last. A young man burst into the square, his face pale. "They're coming! The Drakensvale army!" he cried, his voice trembling. a panicked villager shouted. Panic erupted. "We must get out!"
Ryan's brief pride collapsed into a grim weight. He turned to the couple, then back to the gathering crowd.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked quickly, locking eyes with the woman. "I'm here to help!"
The villagers scrambled to gather the wounded and frightened, preparing to flee into the forest. Fear hung in the smoky air, but there was resolve too, fragile yet unyielding.
He leaned against the charred frame of a ruined house, lungs burning. My muscles screamed from the frantic pace of the rescue, but the chaos left no room to rest. Families clung together, dragging what little they could salvage. Children cried, soot-streaked faces pressed into their mothers' skirts.
Drakensvale. The name rolled through the crowd in terrified whispers. Their dragons had already struck, and everyone knew the soldiers were not far behind.
A bitter laugh threatened to escape. What was he doing here? Running into a burning village like some kind of hero? Back home I was a twenty-four-year-old office worker, tapping keyboards and pitching startup ideas. Not a knight. Not a soldier. Not even a firefighter. Just… me.
Yet here he was, covered in ash, fumbling through a world of fire and dragons.
As the panicked cries of villagers filled the air, Ryan felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him. With the headman dead and the threat of the Drakensvale army looming, the village faced dire consequences. He knew action was required, and time was running out.
Ryan turned to Selene and Jonas, determination igniting within him. "We need to organize the villagers. There's strength in unity."
Selene nodded, wiping away tears that mingled with the soot on her cheeks. "You're right. We can't let fear control us. We must prepare."
Aelric stood resolute beside them. "What can I do?" he asked, a spark of bravery shining in his youthful eyes.
Ryan thought quickly. They could either focus on defending the village or evacuating to the forest for safety. The choice weighed heavily.
"Selene, gather any able-bodied villagers," Ryan urged, his heart racing with purpose. "We need to set up defenses quickly."
"I'll help!" Aelric insisted, his youthful energy infectious.
"Good lad," Jonas smiled, though concern creased his brow. "Aelric, stay close to your mother."
Selene split off to rally the villagers while Ryan and Jonas began to strategize.
"Let's set traps around the entrances to the village. We can use whatever we can find—fallen branches, stones, anything," Ryan suggested.
Aelric dashed to collect sturdy sticks and stones, watching a group of villagers respond to Selene's rallying call. Fear mingled with determination in their eyes.
As they worked, Ryan could feel the ground vibrate slightly—a sound on the horizon. "The Drakensvale army," he whispered, adrenaline surging through him.
"Ready or not, here they come," Jonas murmured, glancing at Ryan. "Stay alert."
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, shadows grew longer, and tension filled the air. The villagers were ready; they would face the army together.
Ryan crouched, examining the meagre defense they had managed to assemble. The hastily set traps lay hidden beneath leaves and loose soil, a fragile line in the sand against the oncoming tide. He wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing towards the village's entrance where a pile of stones lay ready to be pulled down as a barricade.
"Selene's gathered everyone willing to fight," Jonas remarked as he joined Ryan, his voice steady despite the chaos.
"Good. If we can slow them down, even for a moment, it'll be worth it."
Ryan turned his gaze to Aelric, who was carefully arranging a pile of sturdy sticks near the path. The kid's determination shone through his small frame, a brave defiance against the impending threat.
"Hey, you're doing great," Ryan called out, giving Aelric a nod.
The boy's face broke into a quick grin before returning his focus on the task.
A low rumble grew in the distance, tangible now, weaving through the air—a harbinger of the Drakensvale army pressing closer. The very earth seemed to shiver with it.
"Stay sharp, Ryan," Jonas urged, his voice undercut with a mix of resolve and apprehension.
Ryan nodded, his senses keen, heart pounding like a drum in his chest.
"We may be outnumbered, but we won't go quietly."
Ryan fumbled at his pocket and pulled out his phone. The glass lit up, casting a familiar glow, an anchor in this maelstrom of chaos. He thumbed open the video file with the crimson dragon, its massive wings blotting out the sun, a nightmare captured in pixels.
For a brief second, the world dissolved into a surreal blend—a disaster movie filmed from the comfort of his couch. Yet reality gnawed at him as the video played on. The dragon's roar echoed through distant lands, muted beneath the real screams outside. Flames flickered on the screen, reduced to mere animation—cheap CGI against the haunting reality of blistering heat and choking smoke.
Ryan checked his signal, clutching a sliver of hope—nothing. No bars, no internet, just a rectangle of tech rendered useless in this wired realm. The battery icon blinked down another percent, taunting him with its dwindling lifeline.
"Damn it," he muttered, shoving the phone back into his pocket, a futile talisman against the tide of dark reality. His eyes flicked back to the village, its heart still beating with the pulse of frightened people. No time to indulge in digital nostalgia. Not now. Not here. Real action awaited.
"Who are you?" a rugged man asked, his voice filled with suspicion.
I looked up. A rugged man stood in front of me, arms crossed, suspicion heavy in his eyes. His shirt was torn, one arm bandaged hastily with a strip of cloth, but his stance was strong, defiant.
"I'm… just a merchant," I said, trying to sound steadier than I felt.
"A merchant? At a time like this?" His fists clenched. "Why are you here?"
"Business," I blurted. "And got stolen..."
The man's eyes narrowed. Before he could push further, another villager broke into the circle, shouting, "Our headman is dead! We have no one to lead us when the Drakensvale arrive!"
A ripple of fear spread through the crowd. Mothers clutched children tighter, old men muttered prayers, and even the few armored knights standing nearby shifted uneasily, unwilling to step forward.
Then he felt it—their eyes. Dozens turned toward him.
It wasn't the clothes. It was the glasses.
Photochromic lenses, the kind that darkened in sunlight and lightened again in shadow. To me, they were cheap practicality. To them, they were magic—glass that obeyed the sky, hiding and revealing my eyes like sorcery.
Authority. Danger. Nobility. They saw in me what I wasn't.
I raised my hands quickly. "No, I'm not a leader—I can't do that!"
"You can speak," the rugged man interrupted. "That's more than most of us. Just stall them. Buy us time until help arrives."
Ryan shivered as the stares bore down on him, the rugged man's expectation looming like a storm cloud. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I'm just a traveler stranded in your—uh, chaotic village. I don't know the first thing about leading a group. I'm more of a 'tech support' kind of person," he added with a weak smile.
A young woman with soot-streaked cheeks stepped forward, her voice fierce. "If you don't, we'll all die! Just hold them off!"
Ryan shivered as the stares bore down on him, the rugged man's expectation looming like a storm cloud. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I'm just a traveler stranded in your—uh, chaotic village. I don't know the first thing about leading a group. I'm more of a 'tech support' kind of person," he added with a weak smile.
Their stares weighed on him like a storm.
Ryan's heart raced. "So you want me to be the temporary headman? Isn't that like putting the guy who just got his bike stolen in charge of the city's transportation system?"
It was clear they needed someone to rally them, and whether he liked it or not, the eyes that turned to Ryan were filled with hope.
Taking a deep breath, Ryan squared his shoulders and looked directly into the rugged man's eyes. "Alright, I'll try it," he said, more to convince himself than anyone else. "I'll be your temporary leader—your new headman for the hour! Just remember, I have no idea what I'm doing."
Relief washed over the villagers, but disbelief flicked across the rugged man's face. "It's a start," he said, his voice gruff with skepticism. "But we'll need a plan."
Ryan nodded, feeling the weight of expectation settling on him like a heavy cloak. "Okay, let's organize! We need to make sure everyone is accounted for, then set up a defense while we wait for the army."
The villagers glanced at one another, eyes wide with apprehension, but a spark of determination began to flicker in the air.
"Aelric!" Ryan called, spotting the boy who had insisted on helping his father. "You can help too. Gather any adults you can find who are willing to fight. We need all hands on deck."
"Yes, sir!" Aelric beamed, his youthful energy infectious even among the shadows of despair.
"Now, where's the strongest of you?" Ryan gestured to the armored knights who had huddled at the back. "We need a few of you to act as sentries. Can we set up a perimeter to keep an eye out for the army?"
A burly knight stepped forward, nodding. "I'll take a group to scout the surrounding areas. We'll need them returned ASAP."
"Great! We need to know how close they are," Ryan replied, feeling a surge of adrenaline despite his earlier doubts. "And someone needs to check on the wounded. I can't leave the village until we know everyone is accounted for."
Selene, still close by, stepped up and glanced at Ryan with trust in her eyes. "We're with you. Let's get everyone moving. I can gather supplies and help the injured."
With a renewed sense of purpose threading through him, Ryan directed the villagers, shouting guiding instructions, making tactical adjustments as needed. A sense of cohesion began to build, as they united under a common goal to prepare for the impending threat.
"Check the buildings! Anyone who isn't out here yet needs to be moved to safety!" Ryan shouted, his voice gaining strength he didn't know he had.
Tension wrapped around the group like vines as they split into teams, moving to gather resources and looking after those who couldn't fend for themselves. Ryan felt the familiar flutter of anxiety in his stomach, but deeper than that was the thrill of purpose—a chance to make a difference.
10:00 p.m. - At Village Front Gate
The stone wall had risen steadily, standing tall against the encroaching night. However, as Ryan took a moment to catch his breath, he felt a gnawing unease. He had no clear indication of when the Drakensvale army would arrive, and the weight of uncertainty pressed down on him.
Glancing toward the darkening sky, Ryan saw no signs of the enemy. The villagers gathered around the front gate, eyes darting nervously toward the shadows. Whispers floated among them, questions brewing in fear-fueled speculation.
"Do you think they've already come?" a villager muttered.
"What if they come at dawn?" another chimed in nervously.
Ryan felt the tension in the air thicken. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast. Suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind. The recording from earlier—the dragon roaring in the sky. With a bit of editing, he could make it sound thunderous, more horrifying.
"I'm not sure how much time we have left," Ryan said, glancing at the rugged man and then the gathered villagers. "We need to establish a secret escape route through the back of the village. If the front gate falls, we must have a way for everyone to get to safety."
The rugged man looked skeptical, yet there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "That's a wise plan. But time is of the essence. How can we create this route quickly?"
"Aelric!" Ryan called, spotting the energetic boy orchestrating the collection of stones nearby. "Gather the other children and some able-bodied villagers. We're going to need everyone's help to find a way out just in case."
"Yes, sir!" Aelric shouted with enthusiasm, darting off to gather more hands.
As Aelric rallied the children, Ryan felt a rush of determination. "We'll need to clear paths through the dense brush at the back of the village," he explained to the villagers. "If we can get everyone into the woods, the Drakensvale army won't easily follow."
Selene stepped forward, concern shadowing her features. "But the forest can be treacherous. We need to ensure it's safe for everyone."
"Absolutely," Ryan replied, nodding. "We'll send a small group to scout the area first. The safety of our families comes first, and if we can navigate out without drawing the enemy's attention, we'll have a fighting chance."
As he organized the villagers, they worked quickly, splitting into teams. Some began gathering supplies while others scouted the route through the back of the village toward the forest. Ryan led the way, bolstered by the knowledge that they were all counting on him.
Aelric returned with several other children and a brave young woman ready to assist. "We're ready!" Aelric announced, eyes shining with eagerness.
"Great! Let's start clearing the paths," Ryan instructed, leading them towards the dense foliage. "Stay quiet, and remember, the goal is to create an unnoticeable route for everyone to escape if it comes to that."
Together, they began working diligently, moving branches and brush to establish a clear line through the back of the village toward the comforting embrace of the forest. The sounds of the impending army loomed closer, but their resolve only strengthened.
As they worked, the atmosphere shifted, tension straining the air around them. The sound of faint shouting and the clash of metal echoed in the distance, a reminder of the danger that threatened their existence. Yet the villagers pressed forward, their determination unwavering.
After several minutes, they had cleared a promising path leading into the forest lined with thick underbrush, concealed from view. Ryan turned to Aelric and the others. "This will be our escape route. If the worst happens, we'll lead everyone down this way," he instructed, catching his breath.
Just then, the rugged man appeared again, his expression grim. "They're closer than I thought."
"Let's head back and finish fortifying the front gate in case they break through," Ryan said, feeling the weight of leadership pressing firmly on his shoulders.
As they returned to the entrance, Ryan's mind raced with the implications of their plan and the urgency of their situation. Just as he stepped forward to address the crowd, a young villager rushed up to him, breathless and wide-eyed.
"Ryan! The villagers from Eryndral want to join us!" he exclaimed, struggling to catch his breath. "They heard about what happened and want to help defend the village. They have supplies and people ready to support!"
Ryan's heart raced with renewed hope. "How many did you say?"
"We have around two hundred more villagers who can make it here in no time!" the young man replied, glancing back toward the direction of Eryndral.
"That's fantastic!" Ryan said, his thoughts spinning. "With their help, we can significantly bolster our defenses and even restore the morale of those here. We need to strategize how to integrate them seamlessly into our defense plan."
Another villager, an older woman with a stern but kind face, stepped forward. "If we are to receive the villagers from Eryndral, we should prepare a signal so they know where to go and how to enter safely. We cannot let the Drakensvale army see us regrouping—stealth is key."
Ryan nodded, deep in thought. "Agreed. Let's set up a signal near the front gate. We can use lights or create a pattern with wood—something to guide them without drawing attention."
The atmosphere began to shift as Ryan's words ignited a sense of purpose among the villagers. "We can't just hunker down—we need to regain our strength and rebuild our power rapidly. Along with our defenses, we can use Eryndral's resources to our advantage," he declared, rallying the villagers around a single plan.
"Listen carefully!" he called, gathering everyone's attention. "With the additional villagers, we can form different teams. We will have a defensive team at the front, while another group can prioritize gathering supplies immediately. I want to ensure we have food, weapons, and anything that will help us sustain ourselves as we prepare for the army."
The villagers murmured in agreement, their spirits lifting as they began to mobilize. Ryan continued, "We'll also need scouts to monitor the approach of the Drakensvale army while keeping communication clear. If we keep our wits about us, we will not only hold our ground, but we will thrive even in this chaos."
Aelric raised his hand excitedly. "I can help as a scout! I'm quick and can hide well!"
Ryan smiled, touched by the boy's eagerness. "You've got it, Aelric. Just be cautious and make sure to stay in pairs. This will be our best chance to outmaneuver them."
With newfound determination fueling their efforts, the villagers quickly fell into action. They worked to set up makeshift defenses, while others prepared signals for those coming from Eryndral Village.
As the night deepened and the first signs of the Drakensvale army loomed closer, Ryan felt a mix of excitement and anxiety swell in his chest. Plans, preparations, and unyielding courage coursed through him. Now, it was a matter of executing the strategy and waiting for their allies to arrive, all while facing the impending threat with unity and strength.
"Let's be ready for whatever comes," Ryan called, his voice steady. "We are Eryndral Village! Together, we will defend our home!"
5:00 p.m. - At The Castle of Aurelthorn (One month before Ryan's arrival)
The throne hall of Aurelthorn seemed to vibrate with an undercurrent of tension, each whispered contention echoing against the weathered stone walls adorned with the proud tapestry of House Aurelthorn. King Aldric Thaloren stood solemnly at the head of a long table, the flickering torchlight dancing across a sprawling map sprawled before them. His piercing steel-grey eyes scanned the landscape of red and muted gold—the hues of loss etched deep into the parchment as he traced the outline of Aurelthorn and the encroaching borders of Drakensvale.
"Ten villages razed," Aldric said quietly, his voice thick with the weight of sorrow. "The once-bustling paths of Eryndral are now silent, marked only by ashes and ruin. What news from Eryndral Village?"
Lord Draemyr, standing steadfast with a commanding presence at Aldric's side, shifted in his armor, the sigil of the Silver Stag gleaming faintly under the torches. "The latest reports indicate the Darkensvale army moving with intent toward Eryndral. Their dragon knights strike fear in the hearts of the villagers, and if they breach our defenses, we will lose not only Eryndral but the entire northern territory."
Aldric's brow furrowed in grim determination. The stakes had never been higher. "Eryndral is the heart of our territory. If it falls, two-fifths of Aurelthorn's influence and support will slip through our fingers like sand. We cannot allow that to happen."
"But, Majesty," urged a councilor, his face lined with worry, "defending it directly may already be too late. Their forces outnumber our defenses. A frontal confrontation would be suicide."
Draemyr's voice cut through the murmur of discontent like a sharpened blade. "With all due respect to the council, we need to play the hand dealt to us wisely. The time for defense has passed. If we truly aim to protect what remains of Aurelthorn, we must turn the tide of this conflict to our advantage."
Aldric turned his full attention to Draemyr, recognizing the sharp intelligence flickering behind the young lord's steely gaze. "You propose what, then? What tactics do you suggest to save our people and reclaim the land lost?"
Draemyr leaned forward, the map before them aglow with the soft light of the torches. His finger traced a line marking the approaching Darkensvale route. "We lure them deeper into our territories, into an ambush—striking from the shadows. We know their patterns; we understand their pride. They will underestimate us if we present a façade of weakness."
The council erupted in hushed protests and apprehension, but Aldric held up a hand, calling for silence. He regarded Draemyr thoughtfully. "Backstabbing their forces… an unorthodox approach. Yet if executed as you describe, could serve a dual purpose."
"Precisely, Your Majesty," Draemyr replied, his voice unwavering. "It is their arrogance that will lead them here, blind to our machinations. They assume we shy away from conflict, that we will defend ourselves in open battle. But a serpent's bite comes from the shadows, yes?"
Aldric weighed the proposition carefully. The essence of any risky maneuver was embedded in sacrifice—the lives of his soldiers were sacred, meant to protect Aurelthorn's heart. Sacrificing honor for pragmatism felt treacherous.
"Letting Eryndral become bait dangers those who inhabit there," Aldric warned, his voice low. "There are families, the fabric of our kingdom established amid those lands. Their despair weighs heavily upon my heart."
"Their despair will be borne with resolve," Draemyr insisted, conviction flaring behind his words. "Let us prove to Drakensvale that Aurelthorn is not a fortress to be breached without consequence, nor a people wherein fear finds a home. With this strategy, we turn their arrogance against them, and if we act quickly, we can salvage what remains of Eryndral before the fires consume it entirely."
The silence hung heavy for a moment, the air pulsing with the unspoken consequences of their choices. The murmurings of famine and chaos rang in Aldric's ears; he couldn't bear further loss.
6:00 p.m. - At Deep Eryndral Forest
Beyond the village, the storm drowned the forest in shadows.
Wings thundered overhead as a Drakensvale dragon swept low, flames scorching treetops and painting the canopy in blazing gold.
Then—the air changed. The forest stilled, as though every branch held its breath.
The dragon roared, uneasy now, its flame spilling into the storm. The firelight flickered against something vast moving between the trees.
A shape uncoiled from the shadows—massive, sinuous, wrong. Branches snapped like twigs beneath its weight, yet its movement was fluid, almost reverent, as if the forest bent willingly aside.
The dragon shrieked and twisted, fire lashing wildly. For a heartbeat, molten light revealed a maw filled with serrated teeth, eyes burning gold in the rain.
Then silence. The dragon vanished between those jaws, its flame snuffed in an instant.
A low growl rippled through the night, vibrating through the trees, through the ground, through bone. Even the storm faltered before it.
And then… nothing. The forest returned to stillness, but every shadow seemed alive, waiting.