A/N: This is not my first published story, though it is my first fanfiction. My first story that I published is on Wattpad and it is called Vitanon. It is unfinished, and I do not plan on ever resuming it, so feel free to continue it or use the characters as long as you let me know if you do. Also, in terms of where this fanfic fits on the canon timeline, it is somewhere after most of book ten but before the epilogue. And as for the weird name in the prophecy, I made it by combining the Latin words for "blade" and "emerald". That's it. Enjoy!

THE EMERALD PROPHECY

With blood of a royal,

With blood of a son,

With blood of a loyal,

The end has begun.

Only a RainWing can take up the blade,

Only The Descendant is the demon's bane.

If Feruragdus is not found before the first bloom,

Soulslayer rises, spelling Pyrrhia's doom.

PROLOGUE

4,500 years ago….

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Cloud hammered away at the weapon on the anvil before him, careful to make no mistakes, because if he made a mistake, all of Pyrrhia would be doomed.

The deep crimson of anger began to form on his scales, but he pushed on through his frustration.

I could've just enchanted the blasted thing together, Cloud thought grumpily. But then again, he couldn't have. The dragon who gave him his "animus" powers had told him he couldn't use it whenever and wherever he wanted, because it would give him a feeling of entitlement to everything that "mortals" weren't supposed to have.

Ironically, it was that same dragon he was making this weapon to kill, the same dragon who, barely half a millennium after the Scorching and the chaos of the beginning of dragonkind, had slaughtered hundreds of dragons and torn Pyrrhia in half.

Clang. Clang.

The gems before him began to take shape into the greatest, most powerful weapon ever forged, a weapon enchanted by him, and blessed by the supposed embodiment of light itself. He had been skeptical when the dragon had said that, but then again, it was hard not to believe that coming from a pure white dragon that could fire light from his hands. Cloud just hoped whatever blessing was on the emeralds was enough to kill the demon terrorizing Pyrrhia.

The demon who gave me my powers, he thought begrudgingly.

Clang.

He stopped hammering the blade and lifted it up to the light.

Perfect.

This was the weapon that would save Pyrrhia.

"Cloud!" he heard a voice call from outside the blacksmith's hut, "The village is under attack! Bladestorm's leading the charge, that little NightWing snake!"

With a growl, Cloud stalked to the exit of the hut, with Ferruragdus in hand.

This was it.

No more dragons would die.

It ended here.