The forest that bordered Drakenvale had burned to ruin. The earth was black, the trees little more than skeletal remains. Yet amid the ashes, Eric walked with purpose. The silver scale in his hand glowed faintly, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat — a compass of love and fire, guiding him toward the Dragonlands.
He had no armor, no map, no allies — only a bow scavenged from a fallen guard and a pouch of dried herbs. But his mind was sharper than it had ever been. Fear no longer ruled him. The memory of Seraphina's sacrifice had burned it away.
Every step forward carried the weight of her voice — "Run."
But he would not run anymore. He would hunt.
---
By the time the sun reached its zenith, Eric had reached the edge of the Dragonlands — a scarred range of crimson mountains where the air shimmered with heat. Rivers of molten rock wound between jagged peaks, and the sky was streaked with the shadows of creatures with wings wider than ships.
He crouched behind a rock, eyes scanning the horizon.
Smoke rose from a fortress carved directly into the mountain's heart. It pulsed with red light, and faint roars echoed through the valley.
"That must be one of their outposts…" he muttered.
He touched the silver scale. It glowed brighter, tugging faintly toward the west — not the fortress, but deeper into the burning mountains.
"Seraphina's there," he whispered.
But between him and that direction stretched a patrol of dragonkin — humanoid warriors with dark crimson skin, their armor made of obsidian and scales. Each carried a spear tipped with dragonfire.
Eric watched them move with disciplined formation. He counted seven. Maybe more.
He drew a slow breath. "You can't take them head-on."
His eyes darted to the ridge above them — loose stones, steep slope.
He pulled a small knife from his belt and cut through a nearby vine, fashioning it into a makeshift rope. With quiet precision, he scaled the rock wall and perched above the enemy line.
One of the dragonkin sniffed the air. "You smell that? Human."
Eric froze.
The others looked up — too late. He kicked loose a boulder, and the slope roared to life. Stones and dust thundered down, crushing two of the creatures before they could react.
"AMBUSH!" one roared, flames bursting from its mouth.
Eric leapt from the ridge, rolling to his feet as fire washed over the rocks behind him. He drew his bow and released an arrow — straight through the throat of a charging warrior.
Another came at him from the side, swinging a flaming axe. Eric ducked, grabbed a handful of ash, and flung it into the creature's eyes. It roared, blind, and Eric drove his knife into the gap beneath its scales.
The smell of burning blood filled the air.
Three left.
He dodged another attack, grabbed the fallen spear of a dragonkin, and spun it in his hands. The weapon pulsed with heat — alive with a faint ember of draconic energy. He twirled it, parried a downward slash, and drove the point clean through his enemy's chest.
The spear flared, turning the body to ash.
The last two hesitated. Eric could see the flicker of uncertainty in their eyes.
"Leave," he growled, voice hoarse from smoke. "Tell your master I'm coming for her."
They fled.
Eric stood alone among the ashes, chest heaving, sweat running down his neck. His arms trembled, but his eyes were clear.
He wiped the blood from his cheek and looked toward the west. "Hold on, Seraphina. I'm not stopping."
---
The path through the Dragonlands was treacherous.
Eric followed narrow ledges and crossed rivers of lava on half-melted stones. The air was heavy with sulfur, and each breath burned his lungs. Yet the scale's glow kept him steady. It pulsed faster when he neared the right path — like a living beacon.
By nightfall, he reached a narrow canyon lit by blue flame. Strange symbols glowed along the walls, and ancient bones littered the ground. The place felt alive — whispering in an unknown tongue.
Suddenly, a sound — soft and deliberate — echoed through the canyon.
Eric spun, spear at the ready.
A shadow moved along the wall, then stepped into view — tall, slender, with pale gray skin and faintly glowing eyes.
"Lower your weapon, human," the stranger said. "If I wished to kill you, you would already be ash."
Eric hesitated. "Who are you?"
The figure stepped closer. It was a woman — part human, part dragon, her horns small and curved, her eyes slitted like Seraphina's. A half-dragon.
"My name is Kaelara," she said. "I was once of her guard."
Eric's heart pounded. "Seraphina? You know where she is?"
Kaelara studied him for a long moment. "You're the mortal she risked everything for."
"I need to find her," he said. "Tell me where she is."
"She's alive," Kaelara said at last. "But she's a prisoner — held in the Ember Spire, deep within the Dragon Court. Guarded by the Crimson Host and by Drakonis himself."
Eric gritted his teeth. "Then that's where I'm going."
Kaelara's eyes flashed. "You're insane. Even a dragon would fall before that fortress. What makes you think a mortal could walk in alive?"
Eric clenched his fist around the glowing scale. "Because she's my reason to live. And because she's still waiting."
The half-dragon stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "You mortals… always mistaking love for strength."
She turned away, her tail flicking through the dust. "Fine. If you're truly determined, you'll need more than courage. You'll need dragonfire."
"What do you mean?"
Kaelara knelt beside a patch of molten ground. She drew her blade and cut a symbol into her arm — glowing orange runes that pulsed with heat.
"This will hurt," she said simply.
Before Eric could ask, she pressed her palm against his chest. Fire surged through him — not burning, but forging. His veins lit with light, and the silver scale blazed white-hot in his hand.
He gasped, falling to his knees as energy flooded every nerve.
"What—what did you do to me?" he managed to choke out.
Kaelara stood, her expression calm. "I've given you a fragment of our power. A dragon's flame is not just fire — it's will made manifest. But it will consume you if you hesitate."
Eric rose slowly, still trembling. He looked at his hand — faint orange lines now ran along his skin, pulsing like molten veins.
"I'll take that risk," he said.
Kaelara smirked faintly. "Then go. The Ember Spire lies beyond the canyon of storms. But beware — not all dragons obey Drakonis willingly. Some still remember Seraphina's kindness. Seek them."
Eric nodded. "Thank you."
As he turned to leave, Kaelara called after him. "Human!"
He looked back.
"If you survive… tell her I still believe in her."
He gave a small nod, then disappeared into the night.
---
The canyon grew darker as he moved forward. Thunder rolled above, and the sky began to glow red again. Ahead, the mountains split open — revealing a vast valley filled with rivers of magma and bridges of stone.
At the far end, rising like a spear into the heavens, stood the Ember Spire — a colossal fortress of black stone and fire, its peak lost in stormclouds. Lightning forked across its towers, and the roar of dragons echoed from within.
Eric's heart pounded as he gazed upon it.
Every instinct told him to turn back. But love drowned fear.
He adjusted his grip on the spear, the molten glow of his veins flaring brighter.
"Seraphina," he whispered. "I'm coming."
Then he began his ascent — across bridges that cracked under his feet, through tunnels filled with smoke and flame, hunted by shadows that moved like serpents.
At one point, a massive dragon landed on the path before him — wings like torn banners, eyes burning red. It growled, shaking the ground.
Eric raised the spear. "Move, or burn."
The creature roared, unleashing a torrent of fire — but Eric thrust the weapon forward, channeling the new power within him.
Flame met flame — and his will broke through. The beast howled as silver fire engulfed it, turning it into light.
Eric collapsed to one knee, breathing hard. The power in his veins pulsed wildly, threatening to tear him apart.
"Not yet," he muttered, forcing himself up. "Not until I see her."
He stumbled onward, through fire and shadow, until the gates of the Ember Spire loomed above him — sealed with runes older than time.
He pressed the glowing scale to the gate. It shimmered, then melted away, the metal turning to liquid light.
Beyond it lay darkness — and the faint echo of a voice he would know anywhere.
"Eric…"
Seraphina.
He stepped forward, his heart thundering. The air grew hot, the floor trembled, and in the distance, he saw her — bound in chains of flame, her eyes dim but alive.
And behind her, descending from the shadows, came the vast silhouette of Drakonis once more.
> "You survived, mortal," the Dragon King rumbled. "Then burn with the rest of her hope."
Eric raised his spear. His veins glowed brighter, his heart a storm of fire and love.
"Not this time."