Long before men carved kingdoms from stone and dragons ruled from the skies, there existed an ancient vow — one that bound the heavens and the earth in eternal conflict.
It was said that when a dragon loved a mortal, the stars themselves would weep fire. For such love was forbidden, unnatural, and yet, fated.
And from that forbidden flame, destinies were born.
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The Kingdom of Aeloria was a realm divided by beauty and fear. The north was ruled by the Dragon Clans, towering beings who could shift between human form and scaled majesty, their breath shaping the seasons and storms. The south belonged to humankind, fragile yet countless, wielding steel and ambition in place of wings and fire.
Between them lay a thin, burning border known as The Rift, a land of eternal dusk where dragonfire had scorched the sky centuries ago. Few dared to cross it, for it was said that even the wind there remembered screams.
Yet one night, under a sky cracked open by crimson lightning, a young man crossed it.
His name was Eric Valescar — a name that would one day be spoken in awe and sorrow, a name the dragons would curse and the poets would immortalize.
But that night, he was nothing more than a wanderer.
A boy of twenty summers, lean and calloused from labor, his cloak torn by wind and travel. His village had been swallowed by drought. His mother taken by sickness. His father lost to war. He had nothing left but a dream — a foolish, flickering hope that beyond the Rift, perhaps, he could start anew.
The world there was rumored to be full of magic — and monsters.
He walked for three days through the dead woods until the land itself began to change. The trees turned to black glass, their branches glinting with frozen ash. The air shimmered with heat though the sun was gone, and strange glowing rivers ran like molten light beneath cracked stone.
Then he saw it.
A figure at the lake's edge.
She was unlike anything he had ever seen — a woman, tall and graceful, her hair a cascade of silver-gold that shimmered even in the dim light. Two curved horns crowned her head like burnished ivory, and her eyes glowed faintly, like embers trapped behind crystal. Her gown flowed like liquid flame, and the air around her rippled with warmth.
Eric froze. His breath caught in his throat.
The woman turned.
Her gaze met his — and in that instant, the world seemed to stop.
For the first time in his life, he felt the weight of something vast and ancient pressing down upon him — not malice, but majesty. The same awe that sailors felt when beholding the endless sea.
"Human," she said softly, her voice carrying the melody of storms. "You should not be here."
Eric swallowed. "I didn't mean to trespass."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And yet, here you stand. Do you not fear the dragons?"
He hesitated. "Fear them? Maybe. But… I've heard they protect what's theirs."
The faintest smile ghosted across her lips. "Protect? No. We rule. There is a difference."
Something in her tone made his chest tighten — not from fear, but fascination. She was not like the monstrous dragons of legend. There was sadness in her eyes, as though she carried the weight of a thousand lifetimes.
"I'll leave," he said quickly. "If you wish it."
She tilted her head, studying him. "Most men who cross this border come seeking gold, power, or glory. You come with none of those. Why?"
Eric hesitated, then answered honestly. "Because there's nothing left for me where I came from."
The woman was silent for a long while. Then she turned back toward the lake. "The fire always takes something from us," she murmured.
He frowned. "Fire?"
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes glimmering. "Everything begins and ends in flame, human. Even love."
Before he could speak, she stepped forward — and the surface of the lake rippled as if greeting her. Then, without another word, she vanished beneath its glowing depths, leaving only faint ripples and rising steam.
Eric stood there, heart hammering, as if waking from a dream.
He didn't know her name. He didn't know if she was real.
But he knew — with a certainty that made his chest ache — that he would see her again.
---
In the nights that followed, her image haunted him. When he closed his eyes, he could still see the curve of her horns, the molten shimmer of her eyes, the warmth that clung to the air around her.
He tried to forget, but dreams of her came like wildfire — dreams of wings spreading across burning skies, of a woman made of light and sorrow whispering his name.
Then, one dawn, he returned to the lake.
This time, she was waiting.
The mist parted as he approached, revealing her standing upon the water's surface, her reflection shifting like living fire.
"You came back," she said softly.
"I couldn't stay away," he admitted.
"Foolish human," she whispered, but her voice held no anger. "You step closer to death with every breath you take here."
"Then let me die looking at you," he said.
The words slipped out before he could stop them — reckless, honest, and raw.
For a heartbeat, silence. Then a soft laugh — the sound like rain falling on coals.
"You don't even know what I am."
"I don't care," he said. "You saved me from my emptiness. Isn't that enough?"
Her eyes softened, but the sadness returned. "You shouldn't love me."
"Why?"
"Because I am not what you see."
She spread her hands — and in an instant, the air blazed white.
Eric shielded his eyes. When he looked again, she stood before him not as a woman, but as a dragon — a creature of impossible beauty and terror, scales of molten gold, wings vast enough to eclipse the lake. The earth trembled beneath her weight, yet her eyes remained the same — full of sorrow.
He should have fled.
He should have screamed.
But instead, Eric fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
The dragon lowered her massive head, her breath warm against his skin. "You truly are mad."
"Maybe," he said, smiling faintly. "But I think I was born that way."
Her voice softened, a whisper between thunderclaps. "My name… is Seraphina Drakonis. Remember it, human. For one day, it will be your curse."
The wind howled, the lake erupted in firelight, and before he could reply — she was gone.
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That night, Eric stared up at the stars. They burned crimson above him, as if the heavens themselves disapproved.
Somewhere in the distance, he heard the distant cry of a dragon — low, mournful, and eternal.
He knew, even then, that he had crossed a line from which there was no return.
Love, he realized, was not the opposite of fear. It was fire — and once it was lit, there was no going back.
---
In the years to come, bards would sing of a man who dared to love a dragon noble, of a bond that defied gods and kings. They would call it tragedy, others a miracle.
But for Eric, it began on that night — when he crossed the Rift, and the sky itself fell in flames.
> "When a dragon loves a mortal, the world burns — not from hatred, but from the price of love."
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🔥 End of Chapter 0: When the Sky Fell in Flames 🔥