CHAPTER — "THE CAVE AND THE DRAGON"
The roar shook the cave like a living heartbeat—deep, ancient, and trembling with pain.
I froze.
Pebbles rattled near my feet as something enormous shifted in the darkness ahead.
Then she stepped into the pale blue glow of the mana-crystals.
A dragon—majestic even in ruin.
Her body was covered in pearl-white scales veined with gold, cracked in places where blood had dried like molten amber. Two elegant horns curved back from her head, glowing faintly with draconic mana. Her eyes—sunset orange fading into molten yellow—held a strange softness rather than violence.
For a moment, neither of us breathed.
Then she spoke.
"Oh… so you're human."
Her voice was rich and soft—like wind brushing across chimes. I blinked, stunned.
"A… a talking dragon?"
She huffed lightly. "If that shocks you, ask the second soul in that little body of yours."
That hit me hard.
I immediately checked Aeldir's inner soul-space—
He was curled in fear, trembling, just like I had once trembled at death and kidnapping. A terrified seven-year-old soul inside a body too weak to protect itself.
I didn't call out.
Not yet.
He needed time.
The dragon lowered her head. "Why have you come this deep, little one?"
I told her everything—
the ambush,
the running,
the kidnapping,
the cave,
the desperation.
Her expression didn't change, but the air warmed.
"So… two souls in one vessel."
She chuckled. "Life truly loves irony."
I waited, quiet.
"And you," she added, "your emotions… despair, rage, killing intent… They don't belong to a normal child of this world. Why?"
I breathed slowly.
"They're not mine."
"I'm not their real child. But they… they loved me like one."
Her golden eyes softened.
"Mm. Then that makes you theirs."
A long silence.
"Do you think your parents are alive?" she asked.
I closed my eyes.
"The ones from my previous world… no. But the ones here… I want to believe they're alive."
She nodded once. "Ask your question, little boy."
"What's your name? And… why are you injured?"
Her tail drooped, wounds reopening slightly.
"I am Lysera," she said. "Female. My injuries… are from a war between Devils and Dragons. I ran. Cowardice." A bitter smile. "So I was banished."
My chest tightened. She was wounded, alone, and starving for warmth just as much as we were.
"…Lysera," I said softly.
She exhaled, warm wind brushing my face. "Don't pity me."
Her eyes then narrowed playfully.
"Would you like to make me happy?"
"…How?"
"Be my son."
Her voice relaxed. "Only for three months."
Aeldir stirred inside—fearful, hungry, but comforted by her tone.
I nodded.
"If you can protect us… then yes."
"Good." Her wings rustled. "Now… training or food?"
I opened my mouth—
Aeldir seized control and whispered, "Food…"
Lysera laughed.
Low. Warm. Motherly.
"Thought so."
She flew out and returned minutes later with a giant river-fish clutched in her claws. I watched as she formed a small stone pit, inhaled—
—and exhaled shadow-fire.
Black flames tinged with silver swallowed the fish. They were dimmer than mine—gentler—meant for cooking, not killing.
In three seconds, the fish was roasted perfectly.
Aeldir devoured it, still trembling inside.
I felt his sadness soak through the soul-space like cold rain.
Lysera watched quietly.
Then—
"What will you do now?" she asked me. "If two souls share one body until you die?"
I didn't reveal the system, nor the contract. Lie by omission—necessary.
"I'll find a way to grow strong enough to hold my own vessel," I said. "And help Aeldir grow strong enough to hold this one."
She stared.
"Names?"
"Ryn Asteria," I said.
"And Aeldir Valeheart."
Her pupils tightened at Asteria.
Something ancient flickered in her gaze.
"…Then make a contract."
My breath halted. "A contract?"
"My time is nearly over."
Her voice trembled for the first time.
"I'll give you both everything I have—my power, my legacy. But in return…" Her tail curled protectively around a egg behind her. "…save my child."
I bowed my head.
"We will."
Her aura surged—brown, earthy, ancient.
A magic circle formed beneath us, shaking the cavern.
Aeldir screamed inside me—
Mana overload.
His fragile soul couldn't hold the surge.
The system flickered internally:
[ SOUL CAPACITY REACHED ]
[ MANA OVERLOADING ]
[ BEGINNING VESSEL EVOLUTION ]
Aeldir's voice cracked—
"Ryn—please—take it—take it out—!"
"I'm taking it!" I shouted inside.
The overload split between us—pain like molten stone poured through every fiber—
then a cold, stabilizing shock spread across both souls.
[ BODY EVOLUTION INITIATED ]
[ 2 YEARS REQUIRED FOR COMPLETE STABILIZATION ]
[ TRUE BODY SUMMONABLE BUT UNUSABLE UNTIL COMPLETE ]
Aeldir's breathing steadied inside.
My consciousness dimmed.
Lysera slumped, weak but relieved.
"…Good… now go. Train. Survive. Protect the egg…"
She taught us everything she could.
Mana suppression—lowering our presence until even beasts couldn't detect us.
Shadow-movement basics—not teleportation, but shifting steps within darkened ground to evade attacks in those 3 months.
Neither of us could perform it—not yet.
The technique needed dragon-mana precision, which only my evolving body would eventually tolerate.
But the foundations… were carved into our souls.
When she finished, she curled around her egg, breathing shallowly.
"Go, little sons… Before my time ends."
We left the cave and began traveling across the wilderness—
12 hours a day, switching control whenever the other got exhausted hunted animal to eat .
One week later, we reached a forest city of towering silverwood trees and floating lanterns.
Aeldir tugged a man's sleeve.
"What city is this?"
The elf laughed softly.
"You've arrived at Elaristhyl, capital of the Aetherwyn Dominion."
My heart skipped.
"How far… from the Astravorne Kingdom?" Aeldir asked.
"Hm… one to two months at least."
Aeldir froze.
I felt my own heart drop.
"…We reached here in only eight days…"
The elf looked at the horizon.
"Then you were carried by a military unit. They used mana-gates. They jump distances that take weeks."
My throat tightened.
Aeldir whispered:
"Ryn…
how do we get back home?"
And for the first time since my death—
I didn't have an answer.