Thunder rolled across the mountains, shaking the very bones of the earth.
In the valley below stood Linthara — once known in her later life as Inglda —
the High Priestess of Light, chosen by the God of Truth
to preserve the balance between the three races:
Human, Demon, and Dragon.
But tonight… that balance was shattered.
Flames of war devoured the sky.
Dragon roars clashed with the chants of priests.
Blood spilled like a crimson river across the ancient stones.
And amidst the chaos stood one —
Asra, the Dragon King of the Northern Skies.
His towering form gleamed silver beneath the moon,
his gaze piercing and calm, like ice before a storm.
"Human... Did you summon me to kill me — or to seek forgiveness?"
His voice echoed not through air, but through her soul.
Linthara placed a trembling hand upon her chest.
"I came to end this war — not to prolong it."
Asra's lips curved into a faint, cold smile.
"Humans can never end war, not while fear rules their hearts."
Step by step, she moved closer, the light from her staff reflecting on his scales.
She raised a ceremonial blade and cut her palm.
Blood, bright and warm, dripped upon the stone altar.
"If fear is our chain... then I shall break it with my own blood."
The dragon's eyes flickered. Slowly, he drew a claw across his own scales.
Golden blood fell — meeting hers in the center of the altar.
In that instant, crimson and gold light intertwined,
rising like fire into the heavens.
"From this moment forth, our blood is bound as one," he declared.
"But remember — should your heart ever love me,
one of us must perish."
The wind howled, swirling around them like destiny made flesh.
Linthara met his gaze without fear.
"Then I accept that fate."
Her words branded both their souls,
marking the birth of a forbidden vow —
the Blood Oath of Love, that no god nor time could erase.
"Our love was born from blood — and may end within the heart."