Monarch of Ashton and Blood
The skies wept cinders.
Ral'Tir's gates opened for the first time in a hundred years—not to welcome, but to march. Ten wings of resistance fighters, four flamebound knights, two rune-engineered constructs, and one dragon... me.
The plan was clear. Strike hard. Burn fast. Break the Dominion's soul-furnace before the Emberless King could move. And maybe—just maybe—we'd gain the upper hand in a war we hadn't started but had been destined to finish.
Kaela rode beside me, her flame-blade humming softly. Her dark braid was tied tight beneath a helm of molten silver. Behind her, Master Thorne adjusted his war gauntlet, grumbling as usual. There were no chants of glory. No drums. Just the grinding silence of warriors with nothing left to lose.
I spread my wings.
The wind screamed.
And we flew.
---
The Black Pyre
The Dominion's fortress rose from the Deadlands like a wound on the world.
The Black Pyre—a former Ashborn forge city, now corrupted into a mountain of bones and steel. The spires bled smoke, and the sky around it shimmered with corrupted flame. Chains the size of towers bound drifting islands of molten stone together like a hellish constellation.
And at its heart: the Soul Furnace. A pillar of black fire fed by the spirits of slain dragons.
The moment we neared it, alarms howled.
The first wave of enemies descended from above—winged beasts stitched from corpse and ember. I roared, fire surging from my chest in a vortex that split the clouds.
"Form up!" Kaela shouted.
The battle began mid-air.
---
Skyfire Battle
We clashed in the skies like gods and nightmares.
Kaela led her riders through spirals, cutting down beasts with blade and flare. I dove through enemy ranks, talons shredding constructs apart, tail swiping through blackened wyverns.
"Protect the siege-breakers!" Thorne yelled from below, as two construct-titans launched grappling chains toward the floating spires. Runes lit up their frames, glowing hot as they dragged entire sky-bridges into place.
We fought on those bridges.
Steel on steel.
Flame on bone.
Blood on ash.
Then a shriek tore through the clouds—a sound that didn't belong to the living.
A Wyrmshade.
A twisted, undead dragon—once golden-scaled, now black as coal and ten times as angry. It slammed into me mid-flight, dragging me down toward the magma-choked trenches below.
I locked claws with it, spinning violently as the earth rose to meet us.
We crashed.
---
Into the Furnace
The beast writhed, already recovering. But I was faster now. Stronger. I let the Ember Core flood my veins, my chest glowing hot as I breathed deep—
Then released it.
Incineration Breath.
A blast so pure it turned the Wyrmshade into dust and glass.
But it cost me. I dropped to one knee, smoke curling off my wings.
"Darian!" Kaela landed beside me, panting. "The others made it in. They're inside the furnace temple."
I nodded. "Time to finish it."
Together, we pushed forward—into the heart of the Pyre.
What awaited us wasn't just fire and ruin.
It was him.
---
The Emberless King Appears
The Soul Furnace chamber was massive—like a cathedral of flame. Broken statues of ancient dragons lined the walls, their faces warped in agony. Lava coursed beneath glass floors, and above us, a spiraling inferno reached toward the heavens.
In the center stood a man in black.
Vaelus Emberless.
He turned slowly, robes flickering like dying embers.
"I knew you'd come," he said, voice like soot dragged across stone.
Kaela raised her blade. "It ends here."
"No," Vaelus whispered. "It begins again."
He raised a hand.
Chains of soul-fire lashed out, catching Kaela mid-leap and slamming her into a pillar. I roared and lunged, claws extended, fire building.
But he was faster.
He didn't move. The air moved for him. A pulse of pressure hit me mid-charge and sent me crashing through a brazier.
"You think power makes you worthy?" he hissed, eyes glowing. "I was chosen by the Flame before you. You were always the weapon. I was the mind."
"You were my brother," I spat, bloodied but standing.
"I still am," he said. "And I'll prove it when I take back what is mine."
He touched the Soul Furnace.
It screamed.
---
The Awakening
Flames poured from it, black and gold, wrapping around Vaelus like a second skin. His body lifted off the ground, robes disintegrating, revealing burning runes carved into his chest and arms.
Kaela stirred. I helped her up, eyes locked on the transformation before us.
"I think... he's becoming a dragon," she whispered.
"No," I said, stepping forward.
"He's becoming something worse."
Vaelus opened his mouth—and let out a roar that shattered the furnace glass.
Then charged.
---
The Battle of Blood and Flame
We clashed—dragon versus darkborn, fire against corruption. The room quaked. Every blow shook the soulforge's pillars. My claws raked against burning armor that regenerated. His punches cracked scales and fractured bone.
Kaela fought alongside me, her blade carving through the flames Vaelus summoned, even as her strength waned.
But something inside me shifted.
The Core pulsed—not with rage.
But with clarity.
My wings expanded. Light burst from my body. I let go—not of control, but of fear.
And evolved.
Mid-battle.
My body changed. Taller. Sleeker. My flame turned white-hot, radiant. I wasn't a hatchling anymore.
I was a High Dragon now.
Vaelus faltered.
And I struck.
With everything.
---
Aftermath
The Soul Furnace cracked. Shattered.
Vaelus screamed as the power turned on him, fire tearing through his soul. With one last cry, he vanished into ash—carried away on the wind.
But the fortress began to collapse.
Kaela grabbed my neck. "We have to go!"
I spread my wings and launched upward, carrying her as the Pyre erupted below us.
Behind us, the Dominion's capital crumbled.
But this wasn't over.
Vaelus wasn't truly dead.
I could still feel him.
Somewhere in the ash, his ember still burned.
And it would return.