Joran and Kael walked side by side along the familiar cobblestone path toward home, still buzzing from the morning's history lesson. The sun was bright overhead, and the golden spires of the castle gleamed in the distance.
As they passed the open rental square near the eastern gate, they spotted a burly man with a thick beard standing beside several saddled dragons of varying sizes. A wooden sign beside him read:
"Dragon Rental – 100 Aurons per hour"
Joran's eyes lit up with sudden excitement.
"Look at that! How many Aurons do you have, Kael?"
Kael patted his small coin pouch and grinned.
"Sixty."
Joran quickly checked his own pouch.
"And I have fifty. That's more than enough! Come on — let's do it!"
Next Scene – High Above Eldfjall
The rented dragon's powerful wings beat steadily as it soared through the crisp mountain air. Joran sat in front, gripping the reins lightly, while Kael sat behind him. The valley spread out beneath them like a living map — green fields, the shining Golden Keep, and the endless ring of protective mountains.
Joran threw his arms wide open, wind whipping through his messy light brown hair. His hazel eyes sparkled with pure joy.
"Wooooooohooooooo!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "This is freedom!"
Kael laughed behind him. "You're crazy, Joran!"
For a few blissful moments, the world felt boundless.
Then Kael's voice suddenly sharpened with alarm.
"Joran! Look up — that dragon… it's not from Eldfjall!"
High above them, a colossal dragon descended rapidly. It was easily three times the size of their rented mount — its scales a menacing obsidian black with crimson veins, jagged spikes running along its spine, and eyes glowing like molten lava. A rider in dark armor sat strapped to its back.
The massive beast opened its jaws impossibly wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth as it dove straight toward them with terrifying speed.
Joran's heart slammed in his chest.
"How do we go down?! I don't know how to—"
Before he could finish, the enormous dragon lunged.
"NOOOOOO!" Joran screamed.
In that instant, something inexplicable surged from deep inside Joran — a raw, invisible force. The air itself seemed to ripple. The giant dragon was violently pushed backward as if struck by an unseen hammer. The rider on its back struggled frantically with the reins, shouting commands, but the beast roared in confusion and pain.
Unable to regain control, the massive dragon spiraled downward and crashed heavily into a cluster of houses below. The impact was devastating — wooden beams snapped like twigs, roofs caved in, and dust exploded into the air. The fallen dragon thrashed wildly and began spewing streams of bright orange fire across the street.
Almost immediately, the sky filled with the roar of wings. The Dragon Army of Eldfjall — elite riders in gleaming gold-and-green armor — swooped in from the castle direction. Spears of magic and volleys of arrows rained down. The intruder dragon let out one final enraged bellow before beating its wings desperately and fleeing at high speed, disappearing beyond the mountain peaks.
Joran and Kael guided their shaken dragon down to the ground as quickly as possible. The moment its claws touched the street, both boys jumped off and sprinted toward Joran's house, hearts pounding with dread.
When they reached the street, horror struck them.
Joran's home had been completely destroyed. The giant dragon had landed directly on it. Walls were shattered, the roof collapsed into rubble, and smoke rose from the ruins.
"No… no, no…" Joran whispered, his face pale.
He ran frantically into the debris, pushing aside broken beams and stones, searching desperately.
Then he found her.
His mother lay motionless beneath a fallen wooden beam, her body covered in blood, eyes closed forever.
Joran dropped to his knees. His voice tore from his throat in raw agony.
"Mooooooommmmm!!! Moooooooommmmm!!! Mooooooommmmm!!!"
Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably. He clutched her hand, sobbing violently, his whole body shaking. Kael stood nearby, tears in his own eyes, placing a hand on Joran's shoulder but unable to stop the heartbreaking cries.
A calm but sorrowful voice broke through the chaos.
"Joran…"
It was Uncle Eldrin, their neighbor wizard, hurrying over with a waterskin. He gently helped Joran drink some water, his long white beard and purple robes dusted with ash from the destruction.
"Everyone has to die one day, Joran," Eldrin said softly, his wise blue eyes filled with sympathy. "Your mother… she is now among the stars."
Joran looked up at him, face streaked with tears and dirt.
"You're a wizard… Can't you bring her back? Please!"
Eldrin shook his head sadly.
"No one can stop Death, my boy. Not even the greatest mages."
Joran's voice cracked with desperation.
"Then I want to become a wizard… I want to be strong enough to revive my mother!"
He broke down again, shouting through fresh sobs.
"Mooooooommmmm!!!"
Eldrin placed a gentle hand on Joran's forehead.
"Sleep now, child."
He whispered an ancient spell. Soft blue light flowed from his fingers. Joran's eyelids grew heavy, his cries fading as he slipped into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
Evening – Central Square of Eldfjall
By evening, the entire population of Eldfjall had gathered in the vast central square before the Golden Keep. Torches and magical orbs lit the area with a solemn glow. King Harald the Wise stood on a raised balcony, his royal robes of gold and green flowing in the breeze, his face grave.
His voice rang out clearly across the crowd, amplified by magic.
"People of Eldfjall! Hear me!
The Great War has entered its opening phase. The monstrous dragon that attacked our city today was sent by the forces of Grom'thar — the mountain realm of dwarves and goblins. They have chosen aggression over peace.
We will not stand idle. Our troops are already preparing to fly out on dragonback to meet the threat. But this war demands more than our adult warriors. From this day forward, the Dragon Army will also train teenagers who show promise and courage.
The time has come for all of us to defend our home!"
The crowd murmured with a mix of fear and determination.
Joran stood among them, still red-eyed and hollow from grief, Kael beside him in silent support. As King Harald's words echoed, Joran clenched his fists tightly, his hazel eyes burning with a new, fierce resolve.
Grom'thar… I swear… I am going to destroy you for what you've done.
The sun dipped behind the mountains, casting long shadows over the valley as the chapter of loss and awakening closed.