Prologue

Leaves crackled and crunched beneath pounding hooves, each stomp echoing through the dense forest. A black and white horse burst forward at full speed, weaving past the father and son riding side by side. The wind from their galloping horses stirred the autumn canopy, sending a flurry of golden leaves spiraling down around them.

Their long hair billowed behind them, caught in the rushing wind. "Father! Where are we off to?" the boy called out, his voice straining to rise above the thundering hooves.

"Just follow, my boy," the father called, his voice firm yet gentle.

They rode deeper into the sprawling forest, shadows dancing across their faces as the canopy whispered above. But soon, the trees thinned, giving way to a breathtaking sight—a towering waterfall cascaded before them, crashing into a vast pond below. A river flowed gracefully from the pond's edge, winding its way through the valley beyond.

They dismounted, the horses snorting softly as their hooves sank into the damp earth. Cynric ran a steady hand along his mare's neck. "Easy, girl. Stay." He glanced at his son, his gaze firm. "Oswulf, come along. Keep close."

Cynric led the way up a narrow trail, the roar of the waterfall growing louder with each step. Stopping at the rocky ledge, he struck flint to steel, sparking a flame that danced along the torch's tip. The firelight flickered across his face as they slipped behind the cascading water, the spray cooling the air around them.

Without a word, Cynric passed the torch to Oswulf. Then, planting his feet, he gripped the edge of a large boulder and heaved it aside, revealing a dark, yawning passageway beyond. The air was cold, heavy with the scent of stone and earth. Cynric's eyes met his son's. "Stay close now," he murmured, stepping into the shadows.

"Father, what is this place?" Oswulf asked, passing the torch to his father as they descended into the shadows.

"You shall see, my son," Cynric replied, his voice low, echoing off the stone walls.

He led them through the winding passage, the air growing cooler as the path narrowed. At times, they had to turn sideways, squeezing between jagged rock. Just as Oswulf began to wonder how much farther they could go, the passage opened up into a vast underground cavern.

The walls soared high above, encrusted with glowing crystals that shimmered like stars. Their light bathed the cavern in a ghostly glow, illuminating the immense space below.

Oswulf's eyes widened. "Bloody hell, Father… is that…?"

"Yes," Cynric murmured, his gaze fixed on the sight below.

At the base of the cavern lay the massive, twisted remains of a dragon. Its bones stretched from the tip of its tail to its colossal skull, its jaw gaping in eternal silence. The ribcage arched like the frame of a ruined cathedral, each bone gleaming faintly in the crystal light.

"A dragon," Oswulf whispered, his voice trembling with awe. "A real dragon…"

Cynric nodded, his face grave. "Long dead, but its shadow lingers still."

Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath their feet. Stones rattled, and dust rained down from above. They braced themselves, pressing against the cavern walls, but the earth gave way.

With a thunderous roar, the ground collapsed, sending them sliding down the jagged slope. Rocks scraped at their limbs as they tumbled downward, the torchlight flickering wildly.

At last, they skidded to a halt on the cavern floor below, bruised but unharmed. The echoes of the collapse faded, leaving only the steady glow of the crystals above.

"Father!" Oswulf shouted, rushing to make sure his father was alright.

"I'm fine, my boy," Cynric replied, brushing off the dust. He glanced up at the collapsed path, his face darkening. "Let's find another way out."

Father and son ventured deeper into the cavern, stepping carefully over the ancient bones of the dragon. Oswulf couldn't resist reaching out, his hand brushing against the cold, smooth surface of one of the massive bones. As his fingers glided over it, he noticed something odd—the texture was unlike any animal bone he had ever touched. It felt… different, almost alive in a way, as though the bones themselves held a history beyond his understanding.

The bone trembled beneath Oswulf's touch, and suddenly, the crystals around them flared to life, glowing brighter than before. A surge of magical energy rippled through the bones, surrounding them in a crackling aura, like lightning striking from within. Then, everything went dark.

When they finally opened their eyes, the cave was gone. What they saw before them was beyond comprehension—endless skies stretched overhead, the deafening roar of dragons echoing through the air. Below, herds of magnificent creatures with horns on their heads galloped across lush, wild plains. In the distance, floating islands hovered against the horizon, defying all logic, suspended in a sky that seemed to belong to a world entirely separate from their own. They were no longer on Earth; they had entered a realm unlike any they'd ever known.