History of our world

Back in the village, the entire settlement of over 1,800 individuals gathered at the village square. They had all felt it—the shift in the atmosphere, the change that had come so suddenly.

The island was over 8,000 square kilometers in size, and its impact could be felt across its vast expanse. The sky seemed brighter, the earth warmer, and there was an almost palpable sense of hope that hadn't been present in years. For the elves, who were deeply attuned to the magical energies around them, the transformation was like a breath of fresh air. They could feel the magic pulsing, the island's heart beating once more.

Kael, who had been making his way towards the mountains, paused mid-step. His sharp instincts kicked in, and he could feel the difference in the air—like a weight had been lifted, or perhaps something had been awakened.

He paused, taking a deep breath,It was hard to describe, but something had definitely changed.

He glanced towards the path and back at the village and after a few more steps forward, he quickly turned back and ran towards the direction of the village.

The sky darkened slightly as the dragon soared above the village, its shadow sweeping across the fields and rooftops. A deafening roar followed, one so deep it seemed to reverberate through the ground.

The villagers who were in a state of celebration quickly ran for shelter.At first, they didn't notice the figure atop its back. All they could see was the beast, the impossible.

But then, as the dragon landed in the village square, sending a gust of wind that toppled barrels and swirled dust into the air, they saw her.

Eira.

She sat tall on the dragon's back, her posture steady and her face devoid of fear. Her dark hair whipped around her, her cloak fluttering in the breeze, and her piercing gaze scanned the crowd below. The dragon's massive wings folded neatly at its sides as it lowered itself slightly, allowing her to dismount.

She slid down with practiced ease, her boots landing with a solid thud on the cobblestones. For a moment, she stood there beside the dragon, the sheer difference in their sizes making her appear small—but the look in her eyes dispelled any notion of weakness.

The villagers whispered furiously among themselves, their voices trembling with awe and fear.

"Who's that?"

"I dont know,have you seen her before?"

"She looks strangely familiar "

Eira ignored the whispers. She had other important matters to settle but first,she had to solidify her position.

"Listen!" Eira's voice rang out, clear and commanding. The crowd stilled instantly, their whispers dying like an extinguished flame.

"The island's core has been replaced," she said, her tone firm, her words carrying the weight of truth. "The rot has been stopped. The dragon and I have ensured your safety."

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then, one by one, the villagers began stepping closer, their fear giving way to awe.

"You... You did it?" Mirela finally asked, her voice trembling.

Eira's gaze flicked to her and she nodded with a smile. "Yes."

More murmurs spread through the crowd, but this time they were different—filled with wonder and reverence.

"She saved us..."

"With the dragon..."

"How did she do it?"

Eira took a step forward, and the crowd instinctively parted for her, their fear of the dragon mingling with a newfound respect for her. These were people who had once dismissed her as nothing—a quiet nobody living on the edge of their community. But now, they looked at her as though she were something more.

A child tugged at his mother's sleeve, pointing at Eira. "Mama, she's a hero," he said in a hushed whisper.

Eira's lips twitched slightly, the closest thing to a smile she allowed herself. She didn't need their adulation, but she understood the value of it. Trust wasn't something that could be demanded; it had to be earned, and this moment would plant the seeds.

The dragon shifted behind her, raising its head to scan the crowd. Its glowing eyes silenced any remaining doubts.

As they quiet down Eira continued, " I know today has been a long day, so let's all go home but tomorrow, gather here again. I have plans to share."

The crowd disperses, leaving Eira,Mirela and Elandor behind.

"Eira," Elandor's voice was steady but laced with tension, "we need to talk."

Eira walked up to Mirela," Go home Grandma Mire, we shall see later", she spoke softly. Mirela simply looked between them both before quietly leaving.

Elandor hesitated, then took a step forward. He raised a hand, and a faint blue light danced on his palm—an elven spell of reassurance. The villagers, watching from a distance, whispered among themselves. Many hadn't seen Elandor use magic in years.

"May I approach?" he asked, his tone calm but carrying a weight of deference.

Eira nodded, her eyes narrowing at the soft glow of his spell. "You don't have to ask. I'm not some… royal."

"But you are something more now," he replied.

As he stepped closer, Elandor couldn't help but study her. The faint aura around her—the way her magic seemed to ripple beneath her skin—was unlike anything he had ever seen. It wasn't elven magic, at least not entirely.

"How did you do it?" he asked finally. His voice was steady, but his fingers clenched faintly, the spell on his palm flickering. "The core wasn't just any artifact. It was bound to the life force of this island. Only someone with immense magical talent—or something beyond magic—could have replaced it."

Eira tilted her head, studying him in turn. "You're not accusing me of something, are you?"

"I'm trying to understand," he admitted. "The villagers might see you as their savior, but I'm their chief. I need to know if the power you wield is something we can trust—or if it's something that could destroy us."

Her gaze darkened, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle. A faint green aura flickered around her hands, unbidden.

"I'm not your enemy, Elandor," she said quietly, though her voice carried a warning edge. "If I wanted to destroy this place, I wouldn't have gone through the trouble of saving it."

Elandor held her gaze, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he gestured to the dragon. "You didn't just replace the core. You brought this back with you. Do you know what that means to the people?"

Eira glanced at the dragon, whose golden eyes glimmered like molten sunlight. "I didn't 'bring it back.' It chose to follow me."

"You're playing with fire," he muttered, though his tone wasn't entirely disapproving.

Elandor folded his arms, the blue light on his palm fading. He could feel the weight of the villagers' gazes, their awe and fear washing over him like a tide. They looked at Eira as though she were a goddess descended from the stars. And maybe, in a way, she was.

But he couldn't let himself be swept away by the spectacle. There was too much at stake.

"Eira," he said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "The people will follow you, but they need more than magic and dragons. They need a plan. A vision."

Her smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "That's why I need you," she said simply.

For a moment, Elandor was silent. Then he nodded, though his unease lingered. "Very well. But if you're going to lead, you need to understand the history of this place—and the history of our world."