Draekor

The sky over Draconis always burned like the embers of a dying flame, the glow of molten rivers twisting through the jagged mountains. It was a land forged in fire, where only the strong survived, and the weak were cast aside like remnants of a broken blade.

Kirio had always understood this. He was born into a world where pain was a lesson, and strength was the only currency that mattered.

"Kirio, hurry up! You're too slow!"

Kana's voice rang out as she perched on the edge of a blackened rock, her dark wings spread wide against the crimson sky. She was always ahead of him—faster, lighter, more reckless. Kirio, at seventeen, had learned to be cautious. He had seen too many of their kind fall victim to arrogance.

"I'm coming," he muttered, tightening his grip on the jagged cliffside as he climbed.

Kana rolled her eyes. "You sound like an old man. Come on, the elders will notice if we don't get back soon."

Kirio pulled himself up beside her, standing at the peak of the ridge. Below, the spires of Draconis loomed, ancient structures carved into the volcanic rock by their ancestors. The city was both a sanctuary and a prison—one built on the suffering of their people.

"Kana, do you ever wonder what it's like beyond these mountains?" Kirio asked, his crimson eyes locked on the distant horizon where the wastelands stretched beyond their reach.

"You mean the human world?" Kana scoffed. "Why would I care? They enslaved us, experimented on us. We're nothing but monsters to them."

Kirio was silent. He had heard the stories. How their kind—Draekor—were once warriors, revered and feared, until humans sought to break them. Now, even in Draconis, the wounds of their past had not healed.

"But don't you feel trapped?" he pressed. "We train, we fight, we survive… but for what? To wait for a war that may never come?"

Kana sighed and sat on the edge of the rock, her tail swaying lazily. "I don't think about it. Thinking leads to doubt, and doubt makes you weak. We have to be strong, Kirio. That's the only way we'll ever be free."

Kirio frowned. She was right, but he hated it. Strength was the only thing keeping them alive, but it was also the thing that chained them to this fate.

Their childhood had been a cycle of endless trials—forced training, brutal lessons from their elders, and the ever-present shadow of their people's suffering. He remembered being a child, barely able to walk, and watching as a Draekor elder crushed a stone with his bare hand, telling him:

"The weak break. The strong endure. And the ones who endure become gods."

Kirio had believed it once. But now? Now he wasn't sure.

"We should go back," he muttered, standing up. "The elders will—"

A distant roar echoed through the valley. Kirio stiffened, his wings twitching as he turned toward the sound.

"Did you hear that?" Kana whispered.

They both knew what it meant. A human raid. Even after centuries, the humans still sent their hunters into the mountains, seeking the power of Draekor blood.

"Kirio," Kana said, her voice unusually serious. "No matter what happens, we stay together."

Kirio clenched his fists. He knew what was coming. This was the moment where everything changed. Where the flames of their past would be swallowed by something far worse—something neither of them could stop.

And it all began that night, beneath a sky that burned like embers, when they were still just children dreaming of freedom.

"Kirio," Kana said, her voice unusually serious. "No matter what happens, we stay together."

Kirio clenched his fists. He knew what was coming. This was the moment where everything changed. Where the flames of their past would be swallowed by something far worse—something neither of them could stop.

The attack was swift. Fire lit the night as human warriors descended upon their sanctuary. Kirio and Kana fought with everything they had—claws, wings, fire, and fury. They tore through soldiers, their Draekor blood surging with power. But there were too many. Bolas wrapped around Kirio's wings, dragging him down. Kana's screams echoed as she was struck from behind.

Pain.

Darkness.

Chains.

Kirio jolted awake, his breath ragged, his body slick with sweat. The damp stone walls of the cell greeted him, and the scent of rusted iron filled his nose. His heart pounded as the remnants of the past faded into the cold reality of the present.

Across from him, Kaizen lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling steadily. Kirio exhaled, rubbing his temples. How had things come to this? The humans had stolen his freedom once before, and now here he was again, shackled, trapped, caged like an animal.

A soft voice broke his thoughts.

"You dreamt of it again, didn't you?"

Kirio turned his head to see Kana sitting against the far wall, her golden eyes gleaming in the dim torchlight. She looked exhausted but determined, just as she always had.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice low. "I keep seeing it—the fire, the chains. Everything."

Kana was silent for a moment before whispering, "We made a promise that night. We stay together. And we will get out of this, Kirio."

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that the strength they had fought so hard to attain still meant something. But for now, all he could do was wait, listen, and plan for the moment when they would break free—together.

After a long silence, Kirio glanced toward Kaizen.

"Kana… look at him. Use your eye. Tell me what you see."

Kana's expression hardened. "why? Why don't you do it"

"You really want my eyes to start bleeding now? Have people question it" 

"n-no ill do it"

Slowly, she activated her dragon eye, its golden glow intensifying as she gazed at the sleeping boy.

Her breath hitched.

"Kirio…" she murmured, her voice laced with sadness. "He's drowning in despair. It's deeper than pain—it's as if he's already lost something precious. He feels… empty. Like he's given up."

Kirio stared at Kaizen for a long moment before leaning back against the cold stone wall. He exhaled through his nose and muttered,

"Hmmm."

"And that isn't all, he is hiding his identity, I don't know why but his hair isn't black. It is normally a bright blonde color."

Kirio his face widened in surprise, looking at his hand where claws start to form but he quickly hides them.

"Maybe we aren't so different at all" 

Kana curiously "why do you think he is hiding his identity?"

"hmm, it is very curious indeed" Kirio says with a smirk.

maybe he is a decoy... or maybe he is a noble? hmm one day maybe we will know

"Does your eye make him seem reliable?"

Kana checks one more time on Kaizen, her left eye went from red to pitch black examining him.

"He looks very trustworthy, at least for now" 

Kirio smiles, "good, now check the elf boy."

Kana turned her gaze toward Fyn, her red eye shifting as her Dragon Eye activated once more. The dim glow of the torches flickered against her face as the iris of her left eye darkened, shifting from a radiant red to an abyssal black, a color reserved for those seeking the deepest truths.

She focused.

Nothing.

Her breath hitched.

The magic flowed through her, sharp and unrelenting, trying to pry into Fyn's essence the way it had with Kaizen. Yet, where there should have been clarity, there was only void. It was like trying to peer into a mirror wrapped in shadows—there was something there, but it refused to be seen.

Kana's pulse quickened. Her eye strained against the resistance, a searing pain creeping into her temple. It was unnatural. Impossible.

No one could block her sight like this.

Kirio noticed immediately. "Kana?"

She flinched as she broke the connection, inhaling sharply as if she had been holding her breath underwater.

"Something's... wrong," she murmured, pressing a hand against her forehead.

Kirio's smirk faded. He shifted his gaze toward Fyn, who remained unaware of the silent exchange, still tending to his younger brother.

"What do you mean wrong?" Kirio's voice was lower now, cautious.

Kana shook her head. "I couldn't see anything."

Kirio blinked. "What?"

"Nothing. There was… nothing. Like something was blocking me entirely. Not just fog or interference—it was like my eye didn't exist when I tried to look at him."

Kirio narrowed his gaze, studying Fyn as he quietly murmured something to his younger brother. The elven boy didn't look special—malnourished, bruised, and exhausted like the rest of them. But now, Kirio saw something else. Something off.

"How is that possible?" he muttered under his breath.

Kana's voice was strained. "I don't know. Even with Kaizen, I saw his despair, his hidden identity. But Fyn?" She exhaled sharply, as if still shaken by the experience. "It was emptiness. Like trying to see through stone."

Kirio leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied the elf boy. If Fyn could block Kana's eye, it meant one of two things.

One—someone had done something to him, something that hid his existence even from magical sight.

OrTwo— he was powerful, way more than he seemed.

For a moment, Kirio debated confronting him, but something stopped him. If Fyn was capable of suppressing his presence from magical sight, then he wasn't an ordinary captive. There was no telling what else he could do.

Instead, Kirio sat back, his smirk returning—not out of intrigue, but amusement.

"Well," he murmured, "isn't that fun?"

Kana rubbed her temple, still unsettled. "What do we do?"

Kirio stretched lazily, but there was a sharp glint in his crimson eyes. "Nothing. Not yet. If Fyn is hiding something, we'll let him think we don't know."

Kana hesitated but nodded. "And Kai?"

Kirio glanced at the sleeping human prince, his face unreadable.

"We keep watching him," he said finally. "Something tells me that he isn't just some normal human. And when the time comes, we'll find out exactly who he really is."

Kana exhaled, letting her Dragon Eye fade back into its normal hue. "Fine. But I don't like this."

Kirio smirked. "Neither do I. But secrets are what make life fun. Besides, if anything I will just look at them, and we know I can see anything."

"Ha, that is true" Kana sighed as she looked at her brother.

He leaned back against the cold wall, crossing his arms behind his head. His mind was already spinning with possibilities—Kaizen, Fyn, the escape plan, and the fact that none of them were ordinary prisoners.

In two days, they'd make their move. And when they did, Kirio intended to learn the truth.