Chapter 1| World Aflame
Destiny is said to intricately weave through the fabric of our lives, hinting at the notion that certain events and outcomes might be predestined or guided by a higher force. Some perceive destiny as an immutable path carved in the stars, where every decision and action is preordained, seemingly scripted in stone—a story foretold and imposed upon us. It suggests a divine blueprint, authored by cosmic powers dictating what can unfold, tying down the prospective ability of those who are subservient to its controlling whim.
Destiny is for the weak
I rejected their whims and upended their scheme. I was sentenced to execution for treason.
The air quivers with an oppressive heat, a suffocating embrace that seeps into every pore. Small rivulets of sweat drip down my brow, evaporating before it can even reach the ground. The very essence of the burning sea pulsates with an angry, molten energy. A canvas of painted in every shade of fiery reds, seething oranges, and deepest blacks. The air itself seems to shimmer, distorted by the intense temperature, as if reality bends and warps in response to the sheer intensity of the flames. The very atmosphere crackles with a malevolent energy, a palpable sense of anguish and despair that hangs heavy on my soul—I shouldn't be here. It's not just the physical discomfort, but a psychological weight, an understanding that this is a place where agony is not just felt but embodied, where the very essence of torment is etched into the fabric of existence—why am I here?
The last of the Auric Dragons, an egg. The Gods thought him culled with the rest of his kind, I was destined to consume his Auric soul when he hatched, and rule forever as God-King. How suffocatingly pretentious. The gods might have envisioned a grand narrative where I ascend to divine authority, yet it reeked of arrogance. Surrounded by the echoes of prophecies and the allure of absolute power, all I could see was the pulsating gleam of an egg, just an egg.
The High Council loomed behind me, their figures cloaked in billowing robes of shades of royal purple, glistening gold and shimmering red, starkly contrasting the ash walls of the underworld. Each member exuded an aura of authority, their faces , casting ominous. My eyes darted around, looking for a way out, any way out but that swine, that meek ingratiate wretch with the repulsive grin, gripped on tightly to my shoulders. Desperation mingled with a grim acceptance of my fate. The porker forcibly dragged me across the sharp shards of obsidian which protruded the ground, cutting my legs as he brought me to the yawning abyss of liquid fire. The egg, cradled protectively in his grasp, glinted in the blaze, a small, precious object amid the impending doom. My heart raced, thudding against my ribs with a ferocity that matched the intensity of the inferno below. The heat emanating from the molten pit below licked at my skin, its searing touch almost tangible. Thoughts raced through a way out, desperately seeking an escape, a loophole. With a heave, he propelled me over the edge.
Time seems to slow with the increase of the sweltering heat below. It felt like hovering in a limbo, teetering on the line between life and death. Seems that impending death's side effects include a pointless, useless, futile feeling: hope. Hope for something that will never happen. Time seems to quicken, returning to normal and continuing to hasten past. This is it, the end of the line for him. The air rushed past, whipping my hair around my face as the glow of the molten lava grew. Th egg within my grasp, glimmered amidst the inferno, a small beacon of preciousness amidst the impending oblivion. I hit the surface of the magma, yet I did not feel the hunger of fire consuming my flesh, but a breath stealing freeze before - PAIN. A searing heat enveloped my very being, intensifying with each passing second, and the acrid scent of burning filled my senses. My limbs flailed instinctively, searching for anything to grasp onto, but the HEAT. The egg, clutched tightly in my arm, glowed briefly before succumbing to the searing temperatures, its delicate shell cracking and melting away.
And from the blaze, a golden dragon emerged from the fire.
The intense heat hideously scarred me, but birthed Yharon anew. He rose, wreathed in fire, and saved my life.
The lava would have eaten through my flesh, but Yharon flew my burnt body away. I could feel the pain plaguing me, remnants of heat, a constant reminder I was still at the mercy of the burns. I could feel a power washing over my being, gradually ebbing away at the agony. Yharon peers at me through golden eyes, and shimmers with an iridescent fiery glow. His eyes gleam with an intense, piercing orange glow, radiating a sense of intelligence and power. And as I stared back into those pools of gold, I knew we were going to change the world.
Our souls were bound as one, my friend and companion. Perhaps that day I forged my own destiny….