Chapter 48 — The Shadow of Dragons
The sky over Dragonil, ablaze with red and golden hues, stretched like a fiery sea as far as the eye could see. Geysers of lava erupted in the distance, casting sparks of incandescent light into the air. The atmosphere vibrated with heat, dense and heavy, carrying the scent of scorched stone and sulfur.
Amidst this titanic landscape, a massive shadow tore through the flaming clouds: Vulcan, in his draconic form. His enormous wings beat slowly, stirring scorching gusts. Clinging to his red scales streaked with black were Seth, Damian, Alma, and Noël, marveling at the kingdom unfolding beneath them.
Seth, wind-battered, couldn't help but smile. Since entering Etheria, my life has become a chaos of improbable events… yet I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
Beside him, Damian was already grumbling, unaccustomed to the suffocating heat.
— I'm tired of roasting alive… It feels like we're inside a giant pizza oven!
Alma, on the other hand, had sparkling eyes. She observed every geyser, every lava flow, captivated by Dragonil's raw beauty. Noël, silent, had eyes only for her, blushing whenever their gazes met.
Finally, Vulcan began his descent. His colossal wings whipped up a storm of dust and ash as he landed on a rocky plateau. His claws dug into the stone, then slowly his body glowed with a crimson light. His scales retracted, his silhouette shifted, and he assumed his human form. Tall, massive, with flaming hair, he turned toward them with a welcoming smile.
— Welcome to my home, he announced in a powerful voice. You are now in Dragonil.
Behind him rose his dwelling: a colossal building resembling a palace forged from lava and flames. Black stone columns supported arches adorned with glowing runes. The walls shone as if sculpted from solidified magma.
The four students stood still for a moment, dazzled.
Seth drew a deep breath, short of breath from the flight. Damian ruffled his messy hair and muttered in a grumbling tone:
— I swear… if Alexander isn't waiting here with a banquet, I'm filing a formal complaint! We risked our lives coming here, and all I get is a sore behind.
Alma chuckled softly, amused by Damian's bad faith. But Seth frowned.
— Wait… Vulcan. How do you know Alexander, exactly?
A sly smile curved Vulcan's lips. He crossed his arms, as if savoring the reaction to come.
— Because Alexander is a friend, he replied calmly. He is one of the Five Sacred Dragons… and the bearer of the most feared title. Alexander… is the Dragon of Destruction.
A leaden silence fell over the group. Damian's eyes widened, Alma was left speechless, and even Seth's eyes grew large, caught between shock and disbelief.
— Wait, wait, wait! Seth exclaimed, hands in the air. I remember Alexander perfectly. I saw him in human form, like… like a normal guy! You mean to tell me this guy was actually a SACRED DRAGON?!
Vulcan chuckled, a deep laugh that resonated against the surrounding volcanic walls.
— Truth sometimes takes unexpected forms, he said simply.
Then, with a wave of his hand, he beckoned them to follow.
Before them stood a titanic residence, carved from black rock and obsidian. The gleaming walls were veined with glowing red streaks, as if the house itself breathed the heat of magma coursing through its foundations. Massive steel doors slowly opened, revealing a sumptuous hall where basalt columns and molten fire cascades merged with architecture of almost royal elegance.
Alma, awestruck, dared not blink. Damian, on the other hand, rubbed his neck, muttering:
— Well… the dragon doesn't seem poor, huh.
At that moment, a figure appeared in the hall. It was a young man with long, silky blonde hair, his fine, angelic face rivaling that of a divine statue. He bowed respectfully to Vulcan.
— Master, you have returned.
— I present to you Reinard, Vulcan announced. My disciple. He lives here with me.
Damian squinted at Reinard as if he had just encountered a natural rival.
— Him? Don't tell me he's a dragon too? Pff… he looks more like a doll than anything else.
A tense silence passed between Damian and Reinard, electric with unspoken challenge, almost crackling in the air.
Vulcan, unfazed, rested a hand on his pupil's shoulder.
— Reinard, I entrust our guests to you. Alexander will not return for a few days, so it will be your duty to guide them through Dragonil and look after them. Be good friends.
With that, he disappeared into the shadowy corridors, leaving them alone.
Noël, a little embarrassed, moved closer to Alma, blushing intensely.
— Hey… Alma… do you think I could sleep in the same room as you tonight?
The question, soft and timid, sent Damian into ironic laughter, but Reinard exploded outright:
— No! Absolutely not!
The blond clenched his fists, eyes blazing, while Noël pouted. Alma looked away silently, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Seth stayed back, mostly observing the wealth of the place, thinking that Vulcan must be immensely powerful to possess such a domain.
— Come, Reinard said sharply. I will show you your rooms.
They climbed a wide spiral staircase lined with enchanted torches whose flames changed color with each step. The rooms were vast, decorated with red and gold drapes, each equipped with canopy beds, polished obsidian desks, and large windows overlooking the glowing valley. Seth, lying briefly on his bed, sighed inwardly.
My life is strange… but strangely… I like it.
Night fell over Dragonil. Servants in scarlet uniforms roamed the corridors, preparing dinner. One of them knocked softly at Seth's door.
— Young master, she said with a bow, Vulcan invites you to relax in the baths before the meal. The room is in the first corridor, first door on the left.
— Understood, Seth replied.
The house was so immense that he got confused—first door on the right.
He entered a grand, open-air bath. Black marble pools held clear, steaming water, surrounded by hanging lanterns and exotic flowers emitting a relaxing fragrance. Overwhelmed, Seth quickly undressed and plunged into the warm water with a wide smile.
— Ahhhh, this is perfect!
But he froze immediately. A figure had appeared across the pool: a young woman, breathtakingly beautiful, with hair as red as flames, glittering ruby eyes, smooth pale skin, and captivating curves. She stared at him with shock… and horror.
Silence lasted a second, then both screamed simultaneously:
— AAAAAAAAAH!!!
— V… VOYEUR! the young woman shouted.
She crossed the room, slapping Seth so hard he almost fell back into the water, then ran screaming through the corridors.
The cry echoed throughout the mansion. Damian, Alma, Reinard, and Noël all rushed toward the commotion. Vulcan, downstairs, sighed and rolled his eyes.
— Oh no… Kana…
Seth eventually finished his bath on the men's side and entered the dining hall.
The dining room of the estate opened like a cathedral of fire. The vaulted ceiling, supported by basalt columns, let fall reddish light from incandescent crystals hanging like chandeliers. The air was scented with spices and soft embers, a comforting warmth circulating through the walls. A long polished obsidian table stretched across the center, adorned with scarlet linens and gold cutlery engraved with ancient runes.
Guests took their seats. Vulcan, at the head of the table, dominated the scene with his imposing but relaxed presence. Reinard, upright and rigid, sat to his left, while Damian and Noël bickered over who would sit closest to Alma. Seth instinctively chose a seat at the back, still shaken by his "bath incident." Kana arrived shortly after, her long red hair cascading, eyes fixed on Seth like a blade ready to strike.
A palpable tension filled the room. Seth immediately lowered his head, staring at his empty plate, almost wishing he could merge with the table.
Vulcan, observing, cleared his throat lightly.
— I apologize for… the earlier incident. Kana, I am certain Seth meant no disrespect.
— Hmph, Kana replied, arms crossed, eyes still fixed on the unfortunate boy.
Damian, unable to resist, gave a sly grin:
— Well, at least Seth knows how to make a memorable first impression.
Alma and Noël stifled laughter, briefly easing the tension. But Kana abruptly turned to Damian, eyes blazing with icy intensity.
— Repeat that, you.
Damian swallowed, his grin frozen into a nervous grimace.
— …No, nothing. I meant… uh… the soup looks delicious.
Vulcan let out a genuine, rolling laugh, his deep voice like warm thunder.
— Kana, you should learn to be kinder to our guests. They are not accustomed to Dragonil's etiquette.
Kana, annoyed, turned away and stabbed her fork into her plate with aggression that made the cutlery tremble.
The meal began. Sumptuous dishes were served: dragon-fire roasted meats with fragrant red sauces; grilled fish with fiery volcanic herbs; exotic flamboyant fruits in unreal colors. Each bite released an explosion of flavors, a blend of raw strength and refined delicacy.
Noël, eyes shining, devoured his food with childlike enthusiasm. Alma, more reserved, savored each dish with almost royal delicacy, impressed by the richness of the cuisine. Reinard ate with calculated slowness, each gesture perfectly measured, a testament to his discipline.
Seth, though hungry, dared not lift his eyes from his plate. Each time Kana glanced at him, his heart raced. Eventually, he hid behind a plate of meat, as if it could shield him.
Vulcan, amused, crossed his arms.
— Come now, Seth, don't let yourself be intimidated. Kana is not as terrible as she seems.
— I doubt it, he murmured.
Alma laughed, Damian pretended to choke on his wine, and even Reinard showed a faint smile. Kana, however, kept her lips pressed tight, eyes on Seth, silently warning: one more mistake, and I'll reduce you to ashes.
The rest of the dinner unfolded in an odd harmony of tension and camaraderie. Laughter, whispers, and occasional jabs filled the table. Despite Seth's obvious discomfort, everyone sensed this meal marked a beginning: the start of an unexpected cohabitation in the lair of the Fire Dragon.
And amidst the flickering torch flames, it seemed the house itself watched the small group, curious about the future that awaited them.
To be continued…