The sky was burning.
Black flames consumed the clouds as five gigantic silhouettes crossed the horizon. Their scales shimmered with impossible colors under the light of a dying sun, and each flap of their wings generated winds that tore entire mountains apart.
Vaelor watched the apocalypse from the center of a smoking crater. His body was shattered. His left arm was missing from the elbow down, and the blood flowing from his wounds had already formed a black pool at his feet. But his eyes... his ruby-red eyes still shone with unbreakable determination.
"So this is it." He murmured to himself, feeling life slipping away from his body with every heartbeat.
Around him, the corpses of entire armies carpeted the landscape. Humans, demons, beasts... all had fallen in this final battle. And above, the gods watched from their celestial thrones, satisfied with the outcome.
'Lyria...'
The name appeared in his mind like a whisper from the past. Almost twenty years had passed since that night, but the memory was as fresh as ever. Her smile. Her red hair waving in the wind. Her crimson eyes looking at him without fear, without repulsion.
And then, the blood.
Always the blood.
"I'm sorry." Vaelor closed his eyes as one of the dragonesses descended toward him. Her human form was that of a beautiful woman with silver hair, and tears ran down her cheeks as she held the dying body of her contractor. "I couldn't... change anything."
The dragoness shook her head.
"You changed everything." Her voice was soft, almost maternal. "You changed my fate. That of my sisters. That of this world."
"But the gods..."
"They will fall." She interrupted. "Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But you planted the seed. And that seed will grow."
Vaelor wanted to laugh, but only managed to cough up blood.
'How ironic,' he thought. 'The cursed boy everyone wanted dead... ended up being the only hope.'
Above, the other four dragons roared in unison. It was a lament, a war cry, a promise. The sound made the skies tremble and for a moment, even the gods recoiled.
"Thank you." Vaelor opened his eyes one last time, looking at the dragoness who had been with him from the beginning. "For not fearing me."
She smiled sadly.
"How could I fear you? You freed me."
Darkness began to claim his vision. But before everything went black, Vaelor felt something strange. An energy he vaguely recognized, like an echo of a forgotten dream.
And then he heard a voice.
A voice he hadn't heard in decades.
"Let's start again."
The world faded away.
And when Vaelor opened his eyes again, he was screaming.
It was the scream of a newborn.
◇ ◇ ◇
The Ashford castle's birthing chamber was plunged into chaos.
Servants ran back and forth as healers tried to control the situation. Lady Elara Ashford, wife of Duke Aldric Ashford, had just given birth to her firstborn. But instead of the cries of celebration that should have filled the place, there were only screams of terror.
"Don't look at it!"
"Turn your eyes away!"
"It's... it's a curse!"
The baby lay in its cradle, completely alone. No one dared to approach. No one could look at it without feeling an irrational terror that chilled their blood.
Everyone except one person.
A young servant girl no older than fifteen watched the newborn with curiosity. Her hair was fire-red, tied in a messy ponytail, and her eyes were a deep red, almost identical to the baby's.
"Lyria." The head butler called her with a trembling voice. "Stay away from that... thing."
But Lyria didn't move.
Instead, she stepped closer.
'How strange,' she thought as she observed the little one. 'Everyone says it's scary, but... I just see a crying baby.'
She reached out and touched the newborn's cheek.
The crying stopped.
And for a moment, the baby's red eyes looked at her with something that almost seemed like... recognition.
"You have very pretty eyes, little master." Lyria whispered with a smile. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Far away, in a temple forgotten by time, a stone statue cracked.
And in the skies, the gods frowned.
The cursed one had returned.