The twilight outside the camp dimmed slowly, stretching long shadows across the canvas walls. Inside the quiet tent, a faint blue glow flickered from Kiaria's fingertips. His chest rose and fell weakly; the rhythm of his breath trembled like a candle in wind.
After two days of stillness, his eyes fluttered open.
"Kiaria!" Diala gasped from his bedside. The exhaustion in her voice couldn't hide the relief breaking through. She dropped the damp cloth she had been using to cool his forehead and leaned closer. "You're awake–that's great."
Kiaria blinked several times, his vision blurred by drowsiness. "Dia… how long… was I asleep?"
"Two days," she replied softly. "You worried everyone. Even my fox cub refused to eat until this morning." She smiled faintly, but the worry hadn't left her eyes. "If you can walk, come with me. Elder's been waiting."
He nodded weakly. When she offered her hand, he took it. Her touch was warm, steadying. Together they walked through the silent corridors of the camp, the night breeze carrying faint whispers of the forest.
After a long pause, Kiaria spoke quietly, "Dia, did I make you worry again?"
She sighed. "A little bit." Then, after a moment, she added teasingly, "It's not the first time you've fainted during cultivation, but this time… you took far too long."
He chuckled faintly. "I see."
When they reached the Elder's tent, the light from within glowed faintly amber. The smell of old incense and spirit herbs lingered in the air.
"Come in," said the Elder's deep voice.
They stepped inside. The Elder sat cross-legged before a low table, runic papers spread before him. His silver hair was tied in a knot, and his half-closed eyes gleamed faintly beneath the lantern light.
"Congratulations, Kiaria," he said with a smile that seemed to pierce right through him. "You've been touched by fortune."
Kiaria bowed lightly. "Elder, I… don't remember much. What happened inside the auction house?"
The Elder's lips curved into a knowing grin. "You don't? Hah… that's expected. Sit down, I will explain."
Kiaria sat and Elder continued. "The Rusty Cauldron and the Dragon Pearl share the same root. When two ancient relics of identical origin resonate, if it recognize the mortal vessel–your consciousness–can't bear the strain. You blacked out before your mind could understand what your soul had witnessed."
"My cauldron… and the pearls?" Kiaria frowned slightly.
"Yes. Think of them as companions–like a cultivator and his mount," the Elder explained patiently. "When one stirs, the other feels it. The resonance between them goes beyond mere connection–it's bloodline echo."
"Bloodline?"
"Indeed." The Elder folded his hands. "That cauldron you possess might not be an ordinary relic at all. It could be an ancient remnant from the Dragon Era itself… or worse, a vessel infused with the slumbering soul of a Dragon Emperor's lineage."
Kiaria stared silently. His fingers twitched unconsciously near the ring on his hand.
"Try," the Elder said gently, "to sense it. If my intuition is correct, the cauldron's spirit has awakened–and its body now rests in your sea of consciousness."
Kiaria nodded. "I'll try."
Kiaria's breathing steadied; the world around him began to dim.
Then–silence.
He entered his spiritual sea of consciousness. Suddenly, a streak of azure lightning tore across the sky. From the depths below, an immense Blue Dragon surged upward, its scales shimmering like glaciers beneath moonlight.
Its roar shook the blood river's flow.
Kiaria's entire body trembled. The sound wasn't loud–it was primal. Every vibration resonated in his bones.
Above the dragon's shadow, something else hovered–a cauldron, massive and spinning slowly in midair. It was gold-blue gradient, yet the faint outlines of rust still clung to its edges, as though memory itself refused to let go.
"Is that… my cauldron?" Kiaria whispered, awe-struck.
Before he could take another breath, the waters below erupted again. A brilliant Golden Dragon burst forth, radiating light so intense that his spiritual sea shuddered. Kiaria was thrown backward by the pressure, falling helplessly into the waves.
He tried to regain control–but the overwhelming presence shook his concentration–woke up back to elder room with panting.
When he closed his eyes again, both dragons were before him, coiled around the cauldron like twin sentinels guarding a world's heart. Their eyes–one gold, one azure–reflected endless centuries of rage, sorrow, and wisdom.
The primordial spirit is missing. Kiaria looked around for him cautiously. He was the one who saved him at critical moments.
Dragons murmured. The mist trembled when their voices overlapping in a deep, resonant harmony.
"So… this is the one?"
The weight of their gaze pierced straight through him. Kiaria's heart pounded. He dropped to his knees, unable to speak.
The Golden Dragon lowered its massive head. "You can bear our echo… Impressive."
The Blue Dragon's tone was gentler, like calm tides against cliffs. "Easy, Brother. He's still young."
The Golden Dragon huffed, smoke curling from its nostrils. "Young or not, he stands within our gaze. He should understand the price."
Then, turning his piercing gaze to Kiaria, he rumbled, "Human, do you wish to be our apprentice? I will teach you the art of forging–and the alchemy."
Kiaria hesitated. His voice barely escaped his throat. "What if… I refuse?"
The air went still.
The Golden Dragon's pupils constricted into slits. His aura erupted–gravity itself twisted. "You dare?" His words rolled like thunder. "We are the primordials who ruled here, the origin of your kind. Without our breath, humanity would still crawl in darkness! And you, a mere celestial human, question us?"
The weight of his fury struck Kiaria like a mountain. His knees buckled; his body sank into the spiritual sea. His breath caught in his chest.
Before he could sink deeper, the Blue Dragon swooped down, catching him gently upon his horned head and lifting him above the waves.
"Enough, Golden Brother," he said calmly. "We've waited twenty-five millennia for a successor. Will you crush the very one fate brought before us?"
The Golden Dragon's fury subsided, but his glare remained. "Hmph. I detest his insolence."
"He is not insolent–only unaware." The Blue Dragon's voice softened further. "Child, listen carefully. Long before your species rose, we ruled the land, water and skies. Twenty-five millennia ago, a meteor fell upon our world. It carried with it chaos–an energy so pure it warped every living thing it touched. Mutations, madness, extinction. The balance collapsed."
Kiaria listened, still trembling.
"To end the chaos," the Blue Dragon continued, "we joined forces–two emperors of opposing elements–Gold and Azure. We forged a seal from our own souls, trapped the meteor's essence, and shattered it. The world survived… but we did not."
The Golden Dragon added, "Our bodies dissolved into the Coiled Twin Dragon Cauldron, our memories sealed within the Dragon Pearls. When the cauldron rusted, so did our existence fade into myth."
Blue Dragon's tone darkened. "But one shard of that meteor survived. Somewhere, it sleeps still–hungering for chaos. Its pull was what awakened us from our long dream."
Golden Dragon's eyes flared, locking on Kiaria. "And that pull, boy… lies within you."
Kiaria's breath caught. "Within… me?"
"Yes." The dragon's deep voice rolled like thunder through his mind. "We sense that same cosmic essence–the same signature as the meteor we destroyed. Tell us, human–show us your belongings. Whatever you carry… it is calling to us."
Kiaria hesitated. He thought of the Dragon Pearls hidden within his spiritual ring, pulsing faintly. Confused. He clenched his fist, lowering his gaze. "Forgive me… I can't. Not yet."
The Blue Dragon tilted his head, studying him silently. "You're cautious. That's good."
Golden Dragon snorted. "Defiant."
"Defiance often hides purpose," said the Blue Dragon. He stared and sneaked again in his memories. "Listen, child. The heavens are shifting again. Soon, another meteor will fall. The signs already gather. If that fragment descends upon your land… no realm will escape ruin."
"Become our heir," they said in unison, their voices echoing through his soul. "Let our legacy live through your hands. We will not force you–but you must decide. We don't have much time."
Kiaria swallowed hard. The pressure in his chest eased slightly as he lifted his gaze. "Ancestors… forgive my ignorance. I am willing."
The dragons exchanged a glance. The Golden Dragon's expression softened. "Good."
Then his tone gentled, almost warm. "You don't need to call us Ancestors. You are the vessel of our spirit–the one chosen by destiny. From now on, call us your Grandfathers."
Kiaria's lips curved faintly. "Then… thank you, Grandfathers."
The Blue Dragon chuckled, a deep sound like waves against cliffs. "Good. Now, what was this favor you mentioned?"
Kiaria hesitated, his eyes reflecting the glint of the golden cauldron between them. "There is something I must ask. It will sound strange, and perhaps too early. But if you help me when the time comes… I will honor your legacy forever."
The two dragons leaned forward slightly, twin echoes of curiosity in their ancient eyes.
The Golden Dragon smiled. "We are listening."
Kiaria lowered his head, his voice calm but resolute. "I will explain everything… when the time comes."
The golden light from the cauldron pulsed once–softly, like a heartbeat–and the dragons nodded in silent approval.
In his sea of consciousness, the coiled form of the Coiled Twin Dragon Cauldron gleamed brighter than ever. The runes carved upon its surface shifted, reforming into the image of two dragons intertwining around a single core–one gold, one blue.
Their voices faded slowly, merging into the gentle hum of creation.
Kiaria opened his eyes to the waking world. Elder was still watching him closely.
The wind whispered softly through the camp, carrying faint traces of warmth–the breath of dragons still lingered in the eyes of a kid.