The Beginning of the End

The sun bled crimson into the Java Sea, its dying light clawing at Komodo’s jagged cliffs. David gripped the Dragon Crown, its serrated edges biting into his palms. The relic hummed faintly, a dissonant echo of the island’s heartbeat. Below, waves shattered against rocks, their fury a mirror to the storm in his chest.

“This crown isn’t a throne,” his father’s voice whispered through memory. “It’s a bridge between the land and those who listen.”

A flashback surged: ten-year-old David knelt in the sacred cave, damp air clinging to his skin. His father’s calloused fingers traced the Crown’s carvings—a coiled dragon devouring its tail. Torchlight flickered, casting shadows that danced like ancestral spirits.

“Every scratch here,” his father had said, “is a choice. To protect, or to take.” Young David had frowned. “But how do you know which is right?”

“The land tells you. If you’re still enough to hear.”