A fiery red sky overshadowed the Orvelle valley that night, as fire and blood engulfed their ancestral lands. Little Lyssandra hid behind the thick curtains of her father's room, her body trembling as the sounds of screams and clanking swords drew closer. Her father, Darrien Orvelle, stood at the door with a dragon magic-coated greatsword in hand.
‘Listen, Lyssandra,’ Darrien's voice was trembling, yet firm. ‘You are the last guardian of our clan. If I fail tonight, it is your duty to bring the hope of the ancient dragons to safety.’
Lyssandra did not fully understand, but she nodded with tears streaming down her cheeks. Darrien placed his palm on his daughter's head, muttering an ancient incantation. Heat radiated from that hand, and Lyssandra felt her body become stronger, faster.
The Presence of the Beast Dragon
The night sky changed, dark clouds gathered quickly, blocking out the starlight. The rumbling that was getting closer could be heard clearly now. Lyssandra twisted her body, her eyes narrowing in the direction where the sound was coming from.
The forest in front of her shook, and from behind the trees, emerged a huge dragon with glittering black scales. The dragon's fiery red eyes were fixed directly on the pendant in Lyssandra's hand. Its hot breath burned the surrounding leaves, and its voice boomed like thunder.
‘Hand it over,’ the dragon's voice echoed, not only through the air but also in her mind. ‘That fragment is mine.’
Lyssandra backed away slowly, her hands gripping the pendant tightly. Shenvar spoke fast in her mind, like an urgent wind.
‘Don't let her get it! The fragment will give her unlimited power, but she will lose control. He's just a tool of the hunters!’
‘This dragon... is one of you?’ asked Lyssandra, her small voice almost drowned out by the roar around her.
‘He is the one who fell into the darkness,’ replied Shenvar. ’His soul is bound by hunter magic. You must face her!’
Lyssandra knew running away was not an option. The dragon was too big, too fast. She drew her twin daggers, but doubt crept into her mind. How could she, a half-dragon girl, possibly face such a large creature?
The Fight Against Shadows
The dragon struck first, exhaling a breath of fire that shattered the trees around them. Lyssandra rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the flaming tongue. Her body moved nimbly, leaping from shadow to shadow, utilising her Shadowstep ability to stay out of range.
However, the dragon was too strong. With one swing of a claw, it crushed the ground beneath Lyssandra, knocking her to the ground. She bit her lip, enduring the pain of the sharp stones cutting into her skin.
‘You can't fight it like this,’ Shenvar's voice rang out again. ‘You must use the dragon's blood within you!’
‘How?’ Lyssandra shouted in her mind, panicking.
‘Summon the magic of our ancestors. Use the black fire that flows in your blood!’
With a gasp, Lyssandra closed her eyes. She felt the heat in her body, something she had been suppressing for fear of losing control. But now, she had no choice.
Her hands began to blaze with black flames that glittered like stars in the night sky. When the dragon attacked again, he raised his hand and unleashed a torrent of black flames that enveloped the dragon's massive body.
The dragon roared in pain, its hard scales beginning to crack in places. However, this was not enough to defeat it.
Light in the Midst of Darkness
The battle continued for hours. Lyssandra continued to attack with her black flames, while the dragon fought back with its pure power and fire breath.
Finally, after its final deadly strike, the dragon fell, flinging its massive body to the ground. Its breathing was heavy, its eyes still blazing with rage.
‘You think you won?’ its voice echoed. ‘That fragment... will only bring you destruction.’
Lyssandra did not reply. She only grasped the pendant tighter and turned away, leaving the dragon's frail body behind her. She knew the dragon was not completely dead, but she did not have time to finish this fight. Her goal was more important.
As she stepped further into the forest, she saw something in the distance-a small but clear ray of light. Hope welled up inside him.
‘There it is,’ Shenvar whispered. ’The door to the dragon temple.’
Lyssandra quickened her pace, then ran with all her might toward the light.
The Doorway to the Temple
The light grew brighter as she got closer. It seemed to absorb all the darkness around her. She stopped in front of a large door made of black stone, with ancient dragons carved into its surface. The light was coming from the gap between the two large doors, like an invitation to enter.
‘This is the place,’ Shenvar said. ’Return the dragon heart to where it belongs. It is the only way to restore balance.’
Lyssandra nodded, but her steps halted. She looked at the pendant once more, feeling the weight of responsibility that lay within it.
‘What if I fail?’ she asked.
‘You have come this far, Lyssandra. Your clan may be gone, but you are their last hope.’
With a deep breath, she pushed the door open with both hands. A blinding light greeted her, and she stepped inside.
The World Inside the Door
When she stepped through the door, the world around her changed completely. There was no more dark forest or night sky. Instead, he stood in a huge hall illuminated by golden light. The walls were covered in dragon carvings, while in the centre of the hall stood a large altar that seemed to be made for the pendant in his hand.
However, the rumbling sound returned. Lyssandra turned around and saw the black dragon from earlier emerge from behind the door, though its body looked weaker and covered in wounds.
‘You won't stop me,’ the dragon said.
Lyssandra gripped the pendant tightly, staring at the altar in front of her. She knew this was her last chance to complete her mission.
The Last Battle
The black dragon charged in, its massive body shaking the great hall. The carvings on the walls echoed with ancient magic, as if responding to its presence. Lyssandra stared at the altar in front of her, only a few metres away, but the dragon stood between them.
‘Hand over the pendant!’ the dragon roared. Its fiery breath filled the room, creating waves of painful heat on Lyssandra's skin.
She straightened up, though her body felt tired from the previous fight. She could not give up now. With steady steps, she raised the hand grasping the pendant and said firmly, ‘I will not let you destroy this world.’
The dragon laughed, the sound echoing like a thousand rumbles. ‘You think you can stop me? I am the fire of destruction, the shadow that cannot be stopped!’
Black Flame
Lyssandra felt a strange energy coursing through her, stronger than ever. Shenvar spoke again in her mind, his voice more urgent this time.
‘Use the ancestral flame once more, but don't just attack. Use that power to open the way to the altar!’
She nodded, closing her eyes to summon the black fire that flowed in her blood. The flame burned larger, surrounding his body like a shield. When the dragon leapt towards her, she swung her hand, creating a wave of black flames large enough to force the dragon back a few steps.
‘I will not lose to you!’ shouted Lyssandra.
She ran, breaking through the gap created by the attack. Her body moved quickly, her black flames shielding her from the claws and breath of the dragons that tried to stop her.
Approaching the Altar
Lyssandra finally reached the altar, her breathing ragged. Her hands trembled as she lifted the pendant, preparing to place it in what looked like a circular depression in the centre of the altar.
However, the dragon did not give up so easily. It swung its tail, shattering part of the altar and sending Lyssandra flying into the wall. The pendant bounced off, sliding to the floor and stopping a few metres away from her.
Lyssandra groaned in pain, but she forced herself to get up. Her eyes were glued to the pendant that was now near the black dragon's claw.
‘This is finally mine,’ the dragon said, bending down to pick up the pendant.
‘NO!’ Lyssandra shouted. With all the strength she had left, she jumped up and used Shadowstep to move right in front of the pendant. She grabbed it faster than the dragon's claws, then ran back to the broken altar.
The Final Sacrifice
The black dragon charged angrily, launching its fire breath at Lyssandra. But this time, she made no attempt to dodge. She stood up straight, raising the pendant in her hand. Its black flame flared again, brighter this time, protecting her from the dragon's attack.
‘I return this to where it belongs!’ cried Lyssandra.
She placed the pendant in the hollow of the altar, and instantly the room was filled with dazzling light. The dragon carvings on the wall began to glow, creating patterns that looked like ancient magic.
The black dragon roared in pain, its body beginning to crack as the light grew stronger. ‘No! You don't understand what you're doing!’
‘I'm restoring balance,’ Lyssandra said. ‘And you, you are no longer a threat.’
The light exploded, filling the entire room with great power. The black dragon's body exploded into dust, while the altar returned intact, now glowing with golden light.
End of the Journey
Lyssandra fell to her knees, her body tired beyond belief. Shenvar spoke again in her mind, this time in a soft tone.
‘You have done it, Lyssandra. The world is safe, thanks to your sacrifice.’
She smiled faintly, though her body felt heavy. ‘What happens next?’
‘The fragment is now safe. The temple will be locked, and only a true dragon can open it. You have brought honour to your clan.’
Lyssandra looked around the now quiet hall. Though tired, she felt peace in her heart. This journey had changed her, made her stronger, not only in strength but also in faith in herself.
‘This is just the beginning,’ she told herself.
She stepped out of the hall, leaving the dragon temple now shining brightly, signalling that balance had been restored.
‘What will happen, Father?’
Darrien smiled faintly, a smile that carried a deep sadness. ‘You will live. And you will survive.’
When the door was shattered by the dragon hunter's magic, Lyssandra ran into the forest, leaving the sounds of swords and her family's screams behind.
The Dark Forest
Ten years had passed since that night, yet Lyssandra could still hear the sound of the fire that consumed her home in her dreams. Tonight, in the nearly unlit dark forest, the memories weighed more heavily on her heart than usual.
She pulled her green cloak close, despite the warm night air. Her steps stopped at the edge of a small ravine, where she could see the faint glow of a campfire in the distance.
‘Lyssandra,’ Shenvar's voice whispered in her mind, his voice like the wind sweeping through the ruins. ‘They are there. The hunters you seek.’
Her eyes narrowed, looking at the shadows of the soldiers around the fire. The insignia on their shirts, a wounded dragon, fuelled the anger she had suppressed for years.
‘They still hunt dragons, Shenvar,’ she murmured softly. ‘They still hunt my clan.’
‘Your clan is gone,’ Shenvar replied, his voice full of sorrow. ‘But your heart still beats. You are the heir to the ancient dragons, and they know it. The last dragon heart they stole is bound to your destiny.’
Lyssandra took a deep breath, letting the coldness envelop her mind. She had no room for doubt. With a single motion, she disappeared into the shadows, approaching the enemy camp like a predator stalking prey.
Battle at Night
A soldier stood at the edge of the camp, guarding lazily while yawning. He didn't even have time to hear Lyssandra's steps before her twin dragon daggers pierced his neck.
His blood flowed to the ground, but Lyssandra had vanished before the body fell.
She moved quickly, like a shadow leaping from one darkness to another. Every soldier she encountered fell into silence, leaving only three people gathered around the fire.
‘Something's wrong,’ one of the soldiers said, his voice full of anxiety. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Stay calm,’ replied the larger soldier, apparently their leader. ‘Maybe they're just wandering around.’
As the leader spoke, Lyssandra appeared behind them. Her hands moved quickly, silencing the two soldiers before they could realise it.
The leader turned around, his eyes wide as the bodies of his comrades fell to the ground. He drew his sword and charged, but Lyssandra dodged with ease, her movements like a deadly dance. Within seconds, her dagger was at the man's neck.
‘The pendant,’ she said, her eyes staring intently at the red pendant hanging from the warrior's neck. ‘Give it to me.’
The man smiled sarcastically despite his ragged breathing. ‘You think this is yours? This is dragon power, belonging to the hunter, not a traitor like you.’
Lyssandra did not hesitate. She cut the pendant's rope and caught it before it fell to the ground. The man collapsed, blood pouring from his neck.
Dragon Heart Fragment
Lyssandra held the pendant in her hand. It felt warm, almost like it was pulsing. A faint red glow emanated from its surface, radiating an uneasy air.
‘This is it,’ Shenvar whispered. ’The last dragon heart fragment.’
‘What should I do with it?’ asked Lyssandra, her tone full of doubt.
‘Return it to where it came from. In human hands, this power will only bring destruction.’
Lyssandra gripped the pendant tightly. She knew what she had to do, but the path to that place was full of danger.
However, before she could go any further, a rumbling sound came from within the forest. Heavy steps and the deep roar of breathing shook the ground beneath her feet.
‘Run, Lyssandra!’ shouted Shenvar inside her head. ‘They have awakened the savage dragon bound to this heart!’
