The valley had grown colder. Even the air felt heavier, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Kael had been training under Maelor for days—or perhaps weeks; time flowed strangely in this part of the mountains. The silver fire inside him no longer raged uncontrollably, but hummed quietly beneath his skin, like a heartbeat of ancient power.
Maelor watched him from a flat stone near the campfire, eyes half-closed, fingers tracing the carvings on his crooked staff. He never gave Kael answers—only riddles, fragments of wisdom hidden behind madness.
"Tell me, boy," Maelor said, as Kael sent a stream of silver flame into the air. "If the dragon breathes to burn, what does the fire breathe for?"
Kael scowled, lowering his hand. "To destroy."
Maelor's eyes snapped open. "Wrong. Fire destroys nothing—it transforms. Death is only change wearing a darker cloak."
Kael frowned, unsure if it was philosophy or another test. Before he could speak, the ground trembled. Lira, who had been gathering herbs by the edge of the camp, turned sharply toward the valley below.
"Something's coming," she said, her voice tense.
Maelor rose slowly, his expression unreadable. "Ah, the hounds have caught your scent sooner than I hoped."
The sky darkened—not with clouds, but with shapes. Shadows with wings. The demon raiders. Their bodies twisted like smoke, eyes glowing crimson as they swooped through the canyon with shrieks that shattered the silence.
Kael's instincts roared awake. Silver fire burst from his arms as he turned to Maelor. "Tell me what to do!"
But Maelor only smiled, tapping his staff against the rock.
"You want to be a dragon? Then stop asking for permission to burn."
Kael didn't hesitate. He ran toward the valley's edge, spreading his arms as the fire enveloped him. Scales flickered across his skin, wings tearing through his back in a surge of light and pain. He roared—half human, half beast—as the silver dragon unfurled against the storm.
The raiders descended. Their claws met flame, their screams mixing with the thunder Kael brought forth. He fought not as a boy, but as something ancient and furious. Lira watched from below, shielding her face from the heat, her heart torn between awe and fear.
When the last of the raiders fell to ash, Kael collapsed beside the smoldering cliffs, the silver glow fading from his eyes. Maelor approached, the firelight dancing across his grin.
"You've found the edge of your power," he said quietly. "Now learn not to fall from it."
Kael looked up, his voice hoarse. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?"
Maelor turned away, gazing toward the horizon. The mist there seemed darker than before, pulsing faintly with red light.
"The Demon Ruler has awakened. Every flame you light will draw his gaze closer. And soon, boy… he'll want to see whether the dragon serves him—or defies him."
Kael's blood ran cold as the wind howled through the valley. For the first time, he felt it—not just fear, but destiny closing in like a storm.