The winter air bit at Prince Nodran’s cheeks as he trudged through the thick snow of the royal forest, each step a battle against the elements and the turmoil within. His father had just delivered the news: Princess Mori would be visiting for a few days, and he was to be betrothed to her. The very thought twisted like a knife in his stomach. Why would he want her as his queen? She felt like a stranger, a gilded cage in a world that already felt so confining.
It felt reckless to sneak out into the night, but he needed to escape the castle’s suffocating walls and the crushing weight of expectations. His favorite refuge awaited him—a fort by the lake, a sanctuary where he could think freely, away from prying eyes and judgment.
With each step, his thoughts churned like a storm. His father’s voice echoed in his mind, demanding perfection and blind obedience. Guilt gnawed at him; he had always complied, had always worn the mantle of duty like a heavy cloak. But tonight, a deep yearning for freedom bubbled to the surface, urging him to break away from the shackles of responsibility.
As the last light of day faded, he reached a small clearing, the familiar path beckoning him forward. Memories of laughter and warmth flooded back as he approached his fort, a silhouette against the twilight. The snow sparkled like a million tiny stars under the darkening sky, creating a serene, almost magical atmosphere. Nodran took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, momentarily pushing aside the troubled thoughts that clawed at his mind.
Just as he began to relax, a sharp metallic sound sliced through the stillness, like the crack of thunder in a quiet night. His heart raced, and a wave of dread washed over him as he realized he had stepped into a trap. Pain shot through his leg, and he collapsed, gasping for breath, each inhale sharp with agony.
Looking down, he saw a cruel bear trap clamped around his ankle, its jagged teeth digging mercilessly into his flesh. Anger and frustration welled up inside him like a tidal wave. How had he been so careless? Panic surged as he opened his mouth to scream, but his voice twisted and faded, swallowed by the encroaching darkness that filled the air.
The pain intensified, racking his body as he felt his joints pop and shift. His face elongated into a snout, scales began to cover his skin like an unwelcome shroud, and his clothing tore apart as his physical form morphed into that of a dragon. He tried to scream again, but all that escaped him was a muffled whimper, a sound of despair that echoed in the chilling night.
Nodran flailed against the trap, desperation flooding his mind. Wings sprouted from his shoulders, powerful yet unwieldy, and his tail swished in irritation. The biting cold seeped deeper into his bones, and he realized he was losing warmth, his strength draining with every passing moment. Panic set in as he caught sight of the engraving on the metal trap—a familiar insignia that made his blood run cold.
It was his brother Duval’s mark. A mix of fear and fury coursed through him, igniting a fire within. He knew Duval harbored resentment, but this was beyond mere sibling rivalry; it was a calculated act of revenge, a cruel betrayal that threatened to unravel everything he held dear.
A young dragon-born walked out of the woods. His blond hair swayed softly in the breeze.
He had bright eyes that stood out starkly against his tanned skin. His yellow irises matched his golden armor. His draconian plates glimmered with green accents. He gave a sinister glare.
“Nodran, how could you have been so careless as to believe after what you did to me, that I would not seek revenge? You will pay for your crimes, with your life, brother. Haldor will be here soon to collect his prize.”
Duval laughed at the dragon’s plight. The dragon lunged at his tormentor. He snarled and snapped at him.
The young boy of thirteen just laughed. “Father cannot be allowed to keep her imprisoned. I wish you would see that father is not what you think he is. He has you so brainwashed.
“You need to wake up and see the real world is not what you think, brother. She was set up and you know it! Let her go and I will allow you to live.”
The dragon-born responded with a deep snarl. Its scales shimmered as he tried to bite the boy just outside his reach.
“I take that as a no. Good luck getting loose,” the young prince turned and walked away leaving the dragon in the snow.
The young dragon turned to its leg and whimpered. Tenderly, it licked the wounded leg. A rustling of branches in the distance alerted the dragon of an on comer.
It bared its teeth and sent out a warning growl. It did not expect to see a young elven boy that looked no more than twelve years old step out from behind a tree.
His platinum hair was pulled back into a bun. He wore the green and brown colors to match his station.
He wore a thickly wrapped winter coat. It looked like it had been pieced together by the remnants of other garments. The scent of pig pens invaded the dragon’s nostrils.
And it exhaled a puff of smoke as it cooled its breath from the spark that rose from the back of its throat. It rested its head back on the snow. A tear slid down its cheek and froze.
“Oh dear, you have gotten ensnared in a trap,” he walked over to the trapped creature. The young elvarian stepped closer to the trap. The dragon lifted its head and drew its leg closer to its underbelly.
“Shh, it’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you,” the boy stroked its head. He pet the dragon’s scales. He leaned in and kissed the poor dragon’s nose.
The boy examined the trap. He studied the mechanisms he tried to disarm it but it was difficult. Just when he thought he had it the damn metal thing snapped back down on the beast’s leg.
It roared in anger. A frustrated snort and hot puff of air rustled the young elf’s hair. It caused moisture to condensate on the threads of his silver bun. The elf smiled as he removed the dragon’s foot from the trap and moved it out of the way. “There you go, that has to feel better.”
The dragon withdrew itself and started licking its wounds. The boy reached out a hand to the dragon.
It roared in anger. An angry snort and hot puff of air rustled my hair. It had caused moisture to condensate on the threads of my silver bun. The bit of the winter breeze froze them. The little ice crystal drops sparkled in the dimming light. I furrowed my brows. “I am sorry boy; may I try again?” It only responded by nuzzling me softly. The second time proved more successful than the first. I removed the dragon’s foot from the trap and moved it out of the way. “There you go, that has to feel better.”
The dragon withdrew itself and started licking its wounds. I reached out a hand to the dragon. “Don’t do that, I have something better.” It growled at me. I frowned at it. “Trust me?” another puff of smoke added more crystals to my hair. I placed my hand on the dragon’s wound. “Skyworth” I uttered, the ancient draconic word for heal. When I had closed my eyes, my hands glowed with an orange light. Mother was going to be angry with me. I was not supposed to use my magic. She made me promise. But I couldn’t leave this poor creature in pain.
He was naked, so he used magic to produce clothing for himself. It was his normal dragon scaled armor. For his protection, he was required to always wear it. Landon blushed and turned away.
The dragon-born cocked his head to the side. He did not understand why the boy seemed embarrassed, “thank you.”
When Landon turned around, recognition struck the young man’s face. “Your majesty,” he dropped to his knees and put his nose to the ground. “My apologies. I did not know it was you.”
Compassion filled the young Prince’s veins and flooded his senses as he looked upon this young boy. He knelt beside him and lifted his chin with his hand.
He looked the boy in the eye. “Thank you, again.”
The boy blushed and looked away. He tried to pull his face off the young Prince’s hand, but the Prince would not allow it. Instead, he moved the boy’s head until their eyes met again.
“My name is Nodran. Tell me what I can do to repay your kindness?” He asked earnestly. He stared into the common boy’s eyes.
The boy opened his mouth to speak when a loud, deafening thunder rattled the sky. The two young men looked up and watched in horror as what evening light was left was sucked from the sky.
Absolute darkness swirled and set in. The moon was hidden from view.
A loud clanking noise caught their attention, that of metal dragging over rocks.
An ethereal light danced closer until a demonic monster emerged from the woods.
It held a strange orb that glowed with a purple and orange light. It cast an eerie hue of shadow over them all.
The monster wore a tattered brown and orange cloak. Its eyes glowed with unnatural emptiness.
What strange gray flesh it had was sunken in and curved around its cheek bones.
A grin spread across its face. Its skin looked like a gnarled tree root.
The orb made his dark cloak glow in the dim light. It was more like a shadow, wispy and thin flowing around him.
It was a creature of the dark. It only existed in rumors, as those that saw it typically did not live to share the tale. Its eyes were set upon the Prince.
The children jumped to their feet and the peasant boy stepped between the Prince and the monster. The beast spoke.
“I was sent for the boy,” its haunting orange eyes, locked in a deadly glare, aimed at Prince Nodran.
“You will not harm him. You will not take my Prince,” Landon’s eyes focused hard on the daemon.
The darkness grew bitter and cold. It swirled around the peasant’s hands.
The shadows were obeying the boy’s absolute will. Something around his neck began to hum. It glowed with an orange light. His eyes turned orange.
“You will not injure my Prince, you monster. Be gone!” Darkness gathered and condensed until it appeared as if Landon was holding a dark ball of hot lava, a purple void of energy seemed to swirl around it with black shadows.
The monster’s orb flashed. A purple ball of energy erupted from it and barreled toward Landon.
The energy from the orb was absorbed by the gathering shadows in Landon’s hands.
Nodran was frozen in fear, he had heard rumors of Azazel’s magic. It was a one-way ticket to the underworld.
Landon began chanting in a language Nodran did not understand.
When the monster’s spell was absorbed by Landon’s it took a step back but tried again. Another purple ball of energy was sent to consume the boys.
The darkness condensed further. The energy that was swirling shadows around the boy’s hands, discharged with a clap of thunder.
The two spells collided. The electricity crackled in the air.
Storm clouds instantly formed above their head. Rain poured from the sky.
Prince Nodran was astonished. The young elven boy attacked the Azazel with the Kiss of Death.
The monster wailed in pain. There was gnashing of teeth and claw as the blast from Landon sent it back to the nether, from whence it came.
The monster was gone, leaving a black scorch mark where it once stood. The snow around the collision melted. The remnants of leaves and grass burned. A small fire was quickly snuffed out by the snow.
The smell of burnt soil and foliage filled the air. The black marks sizzled with heat and energy..
Galendor sighed. The king sat at his desk. He was flipping through the papers that went with each recruit. He stood up and went to his window then turned back to the men that stood in his office.
His hair was deep brown and pulled into a tight war bun. His royal gold armor, accented with his purple family crest.
He was trying to find his son a guard. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been at this for hours. None of them had the right alliances.
“Next!”
A young man entered the kings office. He bowed deeply and a pendant fell out of his shirt. It was a gold dragon wrapped around a small glowing orb.
His long, brown hair was silky and well maintained. It fell to his shoulders and flared slightly at the tips.
His recruit armor shimmered in the light. It was proof that he passed the basic training and was ready for an assignment.
Galendor stood and walked over to them. He took the young man’s pendant in his hand. “What is your name?”
“My name is Erikson, Sire.” He stood straight and his deep golden eyes met the king’s intense sky-blue irises.
“Are you true to this order?” Galendor asked. He watched Erikson with care. The king was looking for any sign of dishonesty.
Erikson smiled softly, “Of course not, Sire. That was my father’s. He died a few years ago and it is the only thing I have left of him,” Erikson stated.
“Do you know what order this emblem is sanctioned by? What order it represents?” Galendor pushed further.
“No, Sire,” Erikson held his stern look. “All I know is that I cannot remove it. And sometimes it glows.”
Galendor chuckled, “you will be my son’s new guard.”
A loud clap of thunder shook the air. Magic gathered and rain began to pour down outside. Galendor ran to the window.
The epicenter of the spell was near the Solhain trees. There was an orb of darkness that covered only one specific spot of the forest.
“Erikson, take fifteen men and find Nodran. I am afraid they have come for him. Let us pray he was not what the Kiss of Death sent to the underworld.”
“Yes sire.”
Erikson exited the king’s office. An idle smirk upon his lips.
“Did you get the job Father?”
“I did Zinny.”
“Perfect, this is going to be so much fun.”
“We have to go find his son.” Erikson folded his arms.
“That was a powerful kiss of death father.”
“I know Seriena.” His eyes hard, he turned and walked down the long castle corridors.