History 1

Eira sighed, her mind racing. Where was she supposed to keep a dragon? She hadn't really thought of that when she asked for his help.

"You can't stay in the village," she muttered to the dragon, her tone half-apologetic. "You're… a bit too big for that."

The dragon tilted its head, as if mocking her.

"I mean, you could go back to your lair, but-" She stopped mid-sentence when the dragon's body began to shimmer. A soft, golden glow surrounded it, growing brighter with each passing second.

"What now?" Eira muttered, shielding her eyes.

The glow began to recede, and where the dragon once stood was now a tall, striking man.

He was impossibly tall, at least 6'6", with broad shoulders and an athletic build that exuded power. His skin was a warm bronze, almost glowing under the sunlight, and his hair was a cascade of deep black, streaked with faint gold highlights that shimmered like embers. His eyes, however, were the most striking feature—molten gold with slit pupils, still carrying the intensity of the dragon he had been moments ago.

He wore a long, dark coat made of what looked like black dragonhide, with golden embroidery tracing intricate patterns across the fabric. Beneath the coat, a high-collared shirt of deep crimson hugged his frame, paired with black trousers and boots that seemed crafted from the same shimmering material as his coat. A golden cuff encircled one wrist, engraved with ancient runes that pulsed faintly with magic.

Eira blinked, taken aback. "You… you can turn into a human?" She didn't really think humans existed here as well.

The man—dragon—tilted his head slightly, his expression amused. "Humans, elves, dragons… they're all just forms. This one is simply more convenient for your tiny village."

Eira scowled. "Tiny? You're not exactly being polite."

He smirked but said nothing.

Eira extended a hand, "I'm Eira. And you are…?"

The dragon looked at her hand, then at her, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "You expect me to give you my name?"

"Uh, yeah. It's called an introduction."

He scoffed, crossing his arms. "A dragon's name is not something we give lightly. It is sacred—a bond. To share it with someone is an act of great intimacy. You haven't earned that."

Eira stared at him, her jaw tightening. "Fine," she said, dropping her hand. "If you won't tell me your name, I'll just call you… Draco."

The dragon's expression didn't change, though his eyes glinted with faint amusement. "Draco. How creative."

"It works," she shot back. "Unless you'd rather I call you Big Scaly?"

Draco chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Draco will do."

Eira and Draco followed Elandor toward the village hall. The dragon, even in his human form, towered over the elves, his mere presence drawing stares and whispers.

Elandor glanced at Draco, his expression cautious but respectful. "I didn't think dragons could take human form," he admitted.

"We can," Draco replied simply. "But we rarely bother. Humans and elves are… small."

Eira rolled her eyes. "You're going to have to work on that attitude if you're staying here."

"I never agreed to stay," Draco said, smirking.

Eira ignored him and turned to Elandor. "So, about the history you wanted to share. What exactly happened to this place—and the world?"

Elandor's face grew somber. He gestured for them to sit near a large wooden table in the village hall, where an old map was spread out.

Eira stood in the village hall, her arms crossed as she stared at the map Elandor had spread out before them. Her green eyes darted over the continents marked in faded ink, her thoughts a chaotic mix of awe, confusion, and disbelief.

They exist.

Fairies, orcs, dragons—these were creatures she had once scoffed at, back in her human life. Stories of magic and mythical races were nothing but fantasy to her then, bedtime tales whispered to children. But here she was, standing next to a dragon-turned-man and hearing about a world brimming with things she had thought impossible.

Her heart raced. Part of her mind screamed that it was all too much, that this world was too strange, too different from the one she had known. Yet another part—a small but undeniable spark—fizzed with excitement.

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips before she could stop it. Despite the strangeness of it all, there was something thrilling about being in a world where the impossible was just another Tuesday.

Draco's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "You're smiling."

Eira blinked and shot him a glare. "No, I'm not."

"You are," Draco said, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Humans—oh, pardon me, elves—smile like that when they're either scared or excited."

"I'm not scared," she shot back, though her voice betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.

"Excited, then," he said with a smirk. "How adorable."

"Enough," Eira snapped, turning to Elandor. "What's this about the island being removed from the king's jurisdiction?" Mirela had mentioned something like this previously.

Elandor sighed and tapped the section of the map where their island was located. It was one of many scattered across the vast Aedrelis Ocean, which stretched between the continents of Aedrelis and Dravania.

"Our island was once under the rule of the elven king of Aedrelis," he began. "Long ago, when the Great Sundering fractured the world's magical cores, the king abandoned us. He deemed the outer islands too insignificant to save."

Draco scoffed. "Typical."

Elandor's jaw tightened. "Many islands suffered the same fate. Without the king's protection, we were left vulnerable to raiders and magical storms. The only reason we survived is because of our core, even if it was weak. It created a barrier that shielded us from the worst of the chaos."

Eira frowned, her fingers brushing the map. "So… this island is one of many outcasts?"

"Yes," Elandor said. "But with the core restored, the barrier will grow stronger. It may even allow us to reconnect with the other islands—or the mainland."

Eira's mind churned. The thought of uniting the islands intrigued her, though it was clear it wouldn't be easy.