The dawn that followed was crimson — not from sunrise, but from smoke.
Eric woke to the sound of alarm horns echoing through Drathmor's mountains. The walls trembled. Above, the sky rippled like torn fabric, streaked with dark fire. The world smelled of sulfur and blood.
He stumbled from his chamber just as Seraphina burst through the archway, half-dressed in her battle armor, wings half-spread.
"Eric!" Her voice was urgent, sharp as thunder. "They're here."
His pulse spiked. "Who—?"
Before he could finish, the sky screamed.
A shadow the size of a mountain tore through the clouds — a dragon blacker than obsidian, its wings vast enough to eclipse the sun. The symbol of the Crowned Flame burned upon its chest. Around it swarmed dozens of drake riders, armor glinting red and gold, their battle cries shaking the heavens.
"Drakonis," Seraphina whispered, her eyes blazing. "He's come for us."
Eric felt the ground quake beneath his feet. The forges roared to life as ancient runes along the walls of Drathmor ignited. Naga warriors poured into the sky, their scales glimmering like gemstones in the firelight. The air filled with the roar of dragons and the clash of magic.
"Go to the lower caverns," Seraphina said sharply. "You'll be safer there!"
"I'm not running," Eric snapped, grabbing his sword. The runes along the blade pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. "If we fall today, I fall with you."
She met his gaze — anger, fear, and something deeper flashing in her golden eyes — before nodding once. "Then stay close. And don't die."
---
They burst into the open air as chaos unfurled.
The fortress of Drathmor, carved into the volcanic cliffs, was under siege. From the horizon came storms of dragonfire — rivers of molten flame hurled like meteors. The mountains themselves bled with lava as the sky blazed red.
Seraphina soared upward, wings cutting through the smoke. Eric clung to her back, the heat nearly unbearable. From above, he saw the sheer scale of destruction — cities carved in stone now cracking apart, dragons colliding midair in bursts of light and flame.
"Hold steady!" Seraphina shouted over the wind. "We head for the east wall!"
Below them, a group of dark dragons smashed through the defense towers. Eric leaped from Seraphina's back, rolling onto the charred ground. His sword flared with gold fire — the mark of his Trial burning bright.
A drake rider lunged at him, spear thrust forward. Eric parried, the impact ringing through his bones. He moved faster than he thought possible — instincts sharpened by the dragonfire within him. A quick pivot, a strike to the heart — the enemy fell, armor melting away under the heat of his blade.
But there was no time to rest. The next wave came fast — a dozen soldiers of Drakonis, chanting in the old tongue. Fire surged toward him.
"ERIC!" Seraphina's roar tore through the air as she dived, slamming into the ground in a burst of flame. Her wings shielded him as she unleashed a torrent of her own fire, gold against crimson. The shockwave knocked the enemy off their feet.
He looked up at her — fierce, radiant, unstoppable.
"Remind me to never argue with you again," he muttered.
"Good plan," she gritted, eyes glowing. "Now move!"
---
The battle raged for hours, time blurring into a storm of fire and blood.
Ka'varn led the elder dragons into the upper skies, clashing directly with Drakonis's lieutenants — titanic beasts of shadow and bone. Each roar split the air like thunder, each impact raining molten shards upon the world below.
In the chaos, Seraphina and Eric found themselves near the Heartforge — the sacred chamber that powered Drathmor's defenses. But when they arrived, they found it already breached.
The great crystal that anchored the city's shield had been shattered.
Standing before it was a tall figure clad in black and gold, his aura radiating malice — General Vaelor, Drakonis's right hand.
"Seraphina," he drawled, turning. His eyes glowed with the cold light of burning coal. "Still playing princess among traitors?"
Her wings flared. "You're far from your master's throne, Vaelor."
"I go where my king commands," he said, lifting his blade — a serrated thing forged from obsidian and bone. "And he commands your death."
Before Eric could move, Vaelor lunged.
The two clashed with a sound like lightning striking stone. Sparks erupted as Seraphina met his blade with her own. Her wings snapped forward, propelling her with blinding speed. But Vaelor was faster than any mortal — and crueler. His strikes were precise, meant to kill.
Eric darted in, parrying a blow aimed for her heart. The force nearly broke his arm, but he didn't stop. His golden sword met Vaelor's in a shower of fire.
"A human?" Vaelor sneered. "How amusing. The mighty princess has chosen a pet."
"Say that again," Eric growled, shoving forward — his sword blazing brighter.
Vaelor laughed, deflecting easily. "You carry dragonfire, mortal, but you don't understand it. It will consume you, just as it consumed your kind before."
Then his hand flared with dark energy — a blast of corrupted flame that hurled Eric backward. He slammed into a pillar, pain exploding across his ribs.
"ERIC!" Seraphina screamed. Her rage ignited — literal fire flooding from her body. She struck with renewed fury, each blow echoing with the voice of her ancestors.
Vaelor staggered, his armor cracking. But before she could finish him, a shadow passed over the chamber.
The air grew colder. The ground trembled.
Then came the voice — deep, resonant, and filled with ancient contempt.
"Enough."
The roof of the Heartforge shattered, molten stone raining down.
From the smoke above descended Drakonis himself — vast, terrible, his wings spreading wider than the chamber itself. His eyes glowed like dying suns.
Even Seraphina, proud and fierce, froze.
"Father…" she breathed.
Drakonis's gaze turned to her — and then to Eric. His lip curled. "So this is the mortal who stains our bloodline. A fragile creature pretending to bear my fire."
Eric stood, battered but unbroken. "I'm not pretending."
Drakonis's laughter shook the mountain. "Then burn for your arrogance."
He opened his maw, and fire older than time poured forth.
Eric raised his blade — and the runes blazed gold. The flames struck, yet the sword didn't break. Instead, the light of the mark on his chest erupted, forming a barrier of pure golden energy.
Drakonis's fire split around him, searing the walls but not touching him. The power was overwhelming — pain surged through his veins, but he held firm.
Seraphina shouted his name, diving between them. Her wings caught the edges of the fire, burning, yet she didn't waver. "You'll have to go through me!"
"Then so be it," Drakonis thundered.
The mountain screamed as their powers clashed — gold against crimson, love against tyranny.
Lava burst from the cracks, turning the forge into a river of light. The roar of dragons above mixed with cries of the dying below.
And in that chaos, Ka'varn's voice echoed through the air:
"Evacuate! To the northern peaks! Drathmor is lost!"
Seraphina turned to Eric, tears cutting through soot and ash. "We have to go."
He shook his head. "He'll destroy everything if we run."
She grabbed his face, eyes fierce. "We can't win today. But we can live — and living means hope."
For a moment, he saw the fire of her mother in her eyes — compassion in the midst of ruin. Then he nodded. Together, they spread their wings — hers real, his powered by the mark's light — and they soared through the collapsing roof as Drakonis's wrath consumed the mountain below.
Behind them, Drathmor fell — a city of dragons reduced to ash.
Ahead, the dawn broke once more — blood-red and silent.
And for the first time since his rebirth, Eric understood what true war meant.