The village of Oakhaven never called Elias by his real name.

To them, he was only the cursed child.

One eye black as obsidian.

The other glowing faintly like molten gold whenever the light touched it.

The villagers claimed his birth poisoned the land itself.

When crops failed, they blamed him.

When livestock disappeared into the forests, they blamed him.

When sickness spread during winter—

they blamed him too.

Children threw stones whenever he crossed the market square. Women spat at the ground after he passed. Even the village priest refused to let him inside the temple.

So Elias learned to live alone beneath the soot-covered cliffs beyond Oakhaven.

Far from kindness.

Far from everyone.

His home was a broken hunter’s shack hidden beside the cliffs of the Dragon’s Spine Mountains. Wind whistled constantly through cracks in the wooden walls while ash from the volcanic peaks coated everything in gray dust.

But Elias preferred silence.

Silence hurt less than people.

Every morning, he collected water from the frozen stream before sunrise so villagers would not see him. Every night, he watched the lights of Oakhaven flickering far below while wondering why he had been born wrong.

Because deep inside—

even Elias feared his own eye.

Sometimes at night, strange dreams came.

Fire.

Wings.

A voice speaking in a language he somehow understood.

And always—

golden eyes watching him through smoke.

Then came the Festival of the Sun.

The entire village gathered beneath colored banners while bonfires crackled across the square. Musicians played drums while children ran laughing through the streets.

Everyone celebrated.

Everyone except Elias.

As usual, he stayed hidden near the cliffs overlooking Oakhaven.

Watching from far away.

Alone.

Then suddenly—

the sky darkened.

Not slowly.

Instantly.

The music stopped.

Villagers looked upward in confusion as the clouds twisted unnaturally above the mountains. Crimson lightning flashed deep inside the storm while low thunder rolled across the valley.

Then the ground began to shake.

Slow.

Heavy.

Each tremor stronger than the last.

Panic spread immediately.

“What is happening?”

“Earthquake!”

“No…”

An old hunter near the square turned pale.

He recognized the sound.

Wingbeats.

Massive wingbeats.

Then something enormous emerged through the storm clouds above the Dragon’s Spine.

A dragon.

A real dragon.

Iron-colored scales reflected flashes of crimson lightning while smoke poured endlessly from its jaws. The creature’s wings stretched wider than the village itself, blotting out the sky as embers rained across rooftops.

The Night-Wing.

A creature believed extinct for three hundred years.

People screamed instantly.

Warriors drew trembling swords.

Mothers grabbed children and fled toward the chapel.

The dragon descended violently into the village square.

BOOM.

Stone shattered beneath its claws.

Windows exploded outward.

The beast’s hiss silenced the entire village.

Molten heat rolled across the square like a furnace blast while smoke coiled between buildings.

Then the dragon moved.

Straight toward the crowd.

People scattered in terror—

except Elias.

A terrified merchant shoved the boy forward to save himself.

Elias hit the dirt hard.

Pain shot through his hands as he looked up.

The dragon towered above him.

Close enough for its burning breath to scorch his face.

Everyone waited for the fire.

For the screaming.

For the cursed child to finally die.

But instead—

the dragon stopped.

Completely still.

Its enormous golden eyes locked onto Elias.

And the glowing scales along its neck slowly brightened.

The exact same color as the boy’s left eye.

A deep rumble echoed from the creature’s chest.

Not anger.

Not hunger.

Recognition.

Slowly…

the ancient beast lowered its head.

Lower.

Lower.

Until its enormous snout touched Elias’s trembling hand.

The village froze in horror.

Because the dragon—

the monster of legends—

was bowing to him.

Then Elias whispered a single word.

A strange ancient word no human should have known.

“Vaerith.”

The dragon instantly obeyed.

Its massive wings folded tightly against its body while it lowered itself completely before the boy like a knight kneeling before a king.

The villagers stared in absolute terror.

The village elder stumbled backward.

“No…” he whispered shakily. “Impossible.”

But the dragon’s eyes never left Elias.

And neither did the child’s.

Because suddenly—

memories flooded his mind.

Not dreams.

Real memories.

A burning castle beneath a blood-red sky.

A woman with silver hair holding him tightly.

A man wearing black armor kneeling before a dragon throne.

And fire.

So much fire.

Elias gasped and collapsed to his knees.

The dragon growled softly beside him.

Not threatening.

Protective.

The village elder pointed toward the boy with trembling hands.

“He’s one of them.”

The words spread panic instantly.

“The Dragon Blood!”

“Kill him!”

“He brought the beast here!”

Several warriors raised crossbows toward Elias.

The dragon’s head snapped upward instantly.

A deafening roar exploded across the village square.

The force alone knocked men backward into the mud.

Smoke erupted from the beast’s jaws while crimson flames flickered behind its teeth.

The warriors froze.

Because now they understood something horrifying.

The dragon was not attacking Oakhaven.

It had come for Elias.

A small voice suddenly echoed across the square.

“Don’t hurt him!”

Everyone turned.

A little girl stood beside the fountain clutching a wooden doll against her chest.

Lena.

The baker’s daughter.

The only child who had ever spoken kindly to Elias.

She stared at the dragon with wide terrified eyes.

Then slowly stepped closer.

“Please…”

Her father shouted desperately.

“Lena, get back!”

But the girl ignored him.

She looked toward Elias instead.

“Are you okay?”

The boy stared at her silently.

No one had asked him that in years.

The dragon lowered its head slightly toward the little girl.

Studying her.

Then unexpectedly—

it moved aside.

Allowing her near Elias.

The villagers watched in disbelief.

Lena reached the boy first and grabbed his arm gently.

“You’re bleeding.”

Elias looked down at his scraped hands.

For some reason, the sight suddenly made him feel very small.

Very tired.

The dragon rumbled again beside him.

And then—

a voice echoed inside Elias’s mind.

Not heard with ears.

Felt.

Last heir.

Elias froze.

The dragon’s glowing eyes narrowed softly.

Found you at last.

The boy’s breathing became uneven.

“What… are you?”

The answer came like distant thunder.

Guardian.

More memories flashed violently across Elias’s mind.

A hidden kingdom.

Dragon riders soaring above mountains.

A silver-haired queen running through burning halls while carrying a baby.

Him.

The dragon continued.

Your bloodline was hunted.

Elias shook badly now.

“No…”

You are the final heir of House Vaelorian.

The ancient dragon slowly lifted its head toward the villagers surrounding them.

And they feared you before they even knew why.

The village elder suddenly shouted.

“Archers!”

Several hidden hunters emerged onto nearby rooftops with drawn bows.

Lena gasped.

“No!”

The dragon instantly spread its wings protectively over Elias.

Arrows flew.

Most shattered harmlessly against iron scales.

But one arrow slipped through.

Straight toward the boy.

And suddenly—

the air exploded with golden fire.

The arrow vanished mid-flight.

Consumed instantly.

Everyone froze.

Elias stared downward in shock.

Golden flames spiraled slowly around his hands.

The same flames from his dreams.

The dragon looked at him carefully.

Not surprised.

Waiting.

The boy’s glowing eye burned brighter now.

And for the first time in his life—

Elias understood why he had always felt different.

Not cursed.

Hidden.

The elder backed away in horror.

“He’s becoming one of them!”

Elias slowly rose to his feet.

Golden fire drifted gently around him without burning.

The dragon stood behind the child like a living mountain.

And suddenly the terrified villagers no longer saw a lonely outcast boy.

They saw royalty.

Ancient.

Dangerous.

Forgotten.

The elder pointed shakily.

“If we let him live, he’ll destroy us!”

Lena stepped in front of Elias immediately.

“No he won’t!”

The elder ignored her.

“Kill them both!”

The hunters raised new arrows.

The dragon inhaled sharply.

Fire glowed deep within its throat.

Elias looked around the village.

At the fear.

The hatred.

The same hatred he had endured his entire life.

And for one terrible moment—

anger rose inside him like a storm.

The flames around his hands intensified instantly.

The dragon sensed it too.

Waiting for command.

One word.

That was all it would take.

Oakhaven would disappear in dragonfire before sunrise.

Then Lena grabbed his hand.

The flames flickered weaker immediately.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes.

“You’re not a monster.”

The words shattered something inside him.

Because no one had ever said that before.

The dragon lowered its head beside the boy again.

Waiting.

Elias looked toward the frightened villagers.

Then slowly closed his burning hand.

The flames vanished.

Gasps echoed through the square.

The dragon’s fire dimmed too.

Elias stepped forward.

Small.

Thin.

Still just a child beneath the storm-dark sky.

“I could destroy this village,” he whispered.

No one moved.

“But I won’t.”

The elder stared in disbelief.

“Why?”

Elias looked toward Lena.

Then quietly answered.

“Because someone finally showed me kindness.”

Silence spread across Oakhaven.

The dragon slowly unfolded its wings again.

Elias turned toward the mountains beyond the village.

Toward the Dragon’s Spine.

Toward the ruins from his memories.

The dragon lowered itself beside him.

An invitation.

The last heir hesitated only briefly before climbing carefully onto its back.

Lena ran forward suddenly.

“Will you come back?”

Elias looked down at her.

The wind lifted silver strands of hair across his glowing eye.

Then for the first time—

the cursed child smiled.

“Maybe.”

The dragon launched skyward with explosive force.

Villagers shielded their faces as crimson fire illuminated the night.

Higher and higher the beast climbed into the storm clouds carrying the final Dragon Heir upon its back.

And far beyond the mountains—

deep beneath forgotten ruins hidden from the world—

ancient dragons slowly began awakening one by one.

Because after centuries of silence—

the blood of the Dragon Kings had finally returned.