THE FALL OF THE SKYWYRM
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...Prologue...
When the storm-scorched city of Seresthos turns its gaze skyward, a fallen dragon and his betrayer prepare to decide its fate with blood, fire, and one final vow.
The people of Seresthos filled the broken plazas and shattered bridges, the acrid scent of ozone heavy in the air, the chill of lightning's aftershock brushing their skin as they stood unable to look away. Above them, a dragon hung, wings torn.
While watching the skies, rolling thunder overhead and distant cries echoinga single hush fell over the crowd: "Vaelrix, the Thunderborn who upheld Seresthos... is falling?"
She mounted the Spire's crumbled steps, each footfall echoing through the gale. Clad in ceremonial vestments and the silver insignia of the Thunderborn, she clenched a spear of starlight.
The crowd stared as she approached the edge of the Spire.
Saint Cerys's voice sliced through the gale, each word crackling like flint against steel:
"Do you believe you can save them alone, Vaelrix?"
The dragon did not respond. Lightning arced around his head, casting vast shadows across the city.
"Why do you still fight?" Saint Cerys called out.
The dragon lowered his great head.
His voice raked through the broken city, deep and raw:
"Let me ask you instead. Why have you turned against me?"
His voice cracked stone where it touched.
Saint Cerys tightened her grip on the spear.
"Because..." Her breath caught, her hand wavering on the spear. Her heart stuttered, a flicker of doubt in her chest, before she met his gaze with unyielding resolve.
"Because only through this sacrifice—your power unleashed in a rite fueled by our blood, pooling like scarlet at the Spire's apex..." she declared.
A flash of pain crossed Vaelrix's face.
"Can Seresthos be reborn?" she finished, voice low with iron resolve. A pulse raced along her wrist, quivering up the shaft as she met his gaze.
Vaelrix's eyes glowed like molten obsidian.
"Is that how you justify betrayal?" he asked. "Do you call that justice, betrayal made law?"
Cerys raised the spear higher, her words rasping through clenched teeth:
"You chained this city to your dying heart and doomed us all."
Vaelrix's wings trembled under the storm. Blood rained from his body like molten fire.
He lifted his head toward the broken sky, and his voice rose fierce and defiant.
He hissed through the lingering silence: "Sss, listen well, oathbreaker."
His voice thundered through shattered halls and empty streets:
"By the sacred blood-bound Accord of Scales, a dragon's honor binds him to his kin."
"A blood-bound vow rises above despair."
"By storm and stone, I swear it!"
Vaelrix spread his ruined wings.
Lightning cracked from his wounds.
"I shall prove my oath with my fall!"
Cerys's breath caught, a tightening in her chest as the weight of his vow settled over her.
The ground quaked, stones splitting beneath their feet. A child clutched its mother's skirts as the crowd recoiled in shared terror.
Vaelrix smiled, a flash of ebony fang and smoldering ember lighting the corners of his maw, a low growl rumbling beneath his breath.
A jagged bolt of lightning split the sky, and silence hung for a heartbeat as a bead of sweat slid down Cerys's temple. A metallic tang filled her tongue, the air suddenly electric on her skin. Her gaze flicked to the ruined plazas below, survivors huddled against the storm, before her arm trembled.
"Come, Saint—strike if you dare!"
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