Deep beneath the kingdom of Ashkar—

a forgotten prison lay hidden beneath layers of stone.

Cold water dripped from the ceiling.

Torchlight flickered against damp walls.

Iron chains rattled through the darkness.

Then—

a group of soldiers marched down the dungeon corridor.

At their center—

a ragged 15-year-old boy.

His clothes were torn.

His face was stained with dirt and dust.

The soldiers stopped beside a massive prison shaft.

Without warning—

they shoved him forward.

The boy plunged into the darkness.

THUD.

He crashed onto the cold stone floor below.

A moment later—

BOOM.

The heavy iron gate above slammed shut.

Chains rattled.

Locks clicked into place.

The soldiers walked away laughing.

The boy was alone.

Or so it seemed.

The dungeon fell silent.

Only the sound of dripping water remained.

Then—

he heard it.

A weak cry.

Faint.

Desperate.

Coming from somewhere deeper within the prison.

The boy followed the sound through the darkness.

Past abandoned cells.

Past rusted chains.

Past forgotten prisoners’ marks carved into the stone.

Then he found it.

A massive iron cage.

And inside—

a baby dragon.

The small creature was wrapped in rusty chains.

Its wings trembled as it struggled.

The dragonling pulled desperately against its restraints.

But the chains refused to break.

Its frightened eyes met the boy’s.

For a moment—

neither moved.

Then the boy stepped forward.

He grabbed the chains.

Pulled.

The metal groaned.

Then—

CRACK.

One chain snapped.

The dragon stared.

The boy grabbed another.

CRACK.

Then another.

CRACK.

Rusty links shattered across the floor.

The dragonling was free.

But the cage still blocked the exit.

The boy planted both hands against the bars.

The iron door trembled.

Then—

SCREEECH.

The cage swung open.

The dragon immediately hurried beside him.

Together—

they ran through the dungeon corridor.

Their footsteps echoed through the prison.

Then—

an alarm bell rang.

CLANG.

CLANG.

CLANG.

Torches flared to life throughout the dungeon.

Guards shouted in the distance.

The prison had discovered the escape.

The boy and dragon raced toward the main exit.

Almost there.

Almost free.

Then—

BOOM.

The massive prison gate slammed shut.

The entire corridor shook.

On the other side stood the prison warden.

A cruel smile spread across his face.

He locked the final iron bolt into place.

Several guards gathered behind him.

Swords drawn.

Spears ready.

The warden laughed.

“You’re never leaving this dungeon.”

The dragonling stepped closer to the boy.

The guards prepared themselves.

Certain the escape was over.

Then—

the boy walked forward.

One step.

Two steps.

Three.

He stopped before the enormous iron gate.

The corridor fell silent.

The guards watched curiously.

The warden smirked.

Then—

the boy clenched his fist.

And struck.

BOOOOOOM.

The impact exploded through the dungeon.

The entire corridor shook violently.

Cracks raced across the iron gate.

The guards’ eyes widened.

Then—

RIIIIIP.

The massive door tore free from its hinges.

Iron twisted.

Bolts snapped apart.

The gate flew outward.

CRAAAAASH.

The enormous slab slammed into the corridor beyond.

Dust erupted everywhere.

Sparks filled the air.

Several guards stumbled backward in terror.

Others dropped their weapons.

The prison warden froze.

Unable to speak.

Unable to move.

Beside the boy—

the dragonling stood proudly.

The shattered gate lay scattered across the stone floor.

And in the swirling dust and torchlight—

everyone realized the same terrifying truth.

The prisoner they had thrown into the dungeon was far more dangerous than the prison itself.

For several seconds—

nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

The guards simply stared.

The warden stared.

Even the dragonling seemed surprised.

The boy looked at his own fist.

Confused.

As if he didn’t fully understand how the gate had broken either.

Then—

a deep rumble echoed through the prison.

Not from above.

From below.

The stone floor trembled.

Dust drifted from the ceiling.

The dragonling suddenly hissed.

Its golden eyes widened.

Fear appeared on its face.

Real fear.

The boy noticed immediately.

“What is it?”

The little dragon backed away from the darkness beyond the shattered gate.

A sound followed.

Slow.

Heavy.

Ancient.

THOOM.

THOOM.

THOOM.

Each footstep shook the dungeon.

The guards exchanged nervous glances.

One swallowed.

Another lowered his spear.

Even the warden’s confidence vanished.

Then something emerged from the shadows.

A giant chain.

Thick as a man’s torso.

It dragged across the stone floor.

SCRAAAAAPE.

Another chain appeared.

Then another.

Then—

the creature attached to them stepped into the torchlight.

Gasps erupted.

The beast was enormous.

A dragon.

Not a baby dragon.

Not a young dragon.

An ancient dragon.

Its scales were dark silver.

Its body filled the entire corridor.

Massive iron chains wrapped around its neck, wings, and legs.

Runes glowed across the restraints.

Ancient prison magic.

The creature slowly raised its head.

Golden eyes opened.

Eyes older than kingdoms.

Older than dynasties.

Older than history itself.

Every guard immediately fell backward.

Several dropped their weapons and fled.

The prison warden turned pale.

“No…”

The word barely escaped his lips.

The boy looked at him.

The warden trembled.

“That can’t be possible.”

The ancient dragon stared at the dragonling.

Then at the boy.

Then its gaze settled upon the shattered prison gate.

The creature seemed to understand everything instantly.

A low growl rolled through the dungeon.

The chains around its body rattled.

The prison began shaking.

The warden suddenly screamed.

“Kill them!”

The remaining guards hesitated.

Then charged.

Spears lowered.

Swords raised.

The boy stepped in front of the dragonling.

Ready to fight.

But he never got the chance.

The ancient dragon inhaled.

Deep.

Slow.

The temperature inside the dungeon changed instantly.

The air vibrated.

The guards froze.

Their eyes widened.

Then—

ROOOOOOOAR.

The roar exploded through the prison.

Not fire.

Not ice.

A roar.

Pure force.

The shockwave hurled soldiers across the corridor

.

Armor shattered.

Weapons flew from hands.

Torches exploded from walls.

The prison trembled like an earthquake.

When the roar ended—

every guard lay unconscious.

Only the warden remained standing.

Barely.

His knees shook uncontrollably.

His face was pale.

The ancient dragon slowly turned toward him.

The warden collapsed.

Begging.

Crying.

Terrified.

The boy had never seen fear like that.

The dragon stepped forward.

The chains dragged behind it.

Then—

something unexpected happened.

The creature ignored the warden.

Ignored the guards.

Ignored everyone.

Instead—

it lowered its head before the boy.

The entire dungeon fell silent.

The dragonling immediately copied the gesture.

Then another sound echoed through the prison.

Footsteps.

Dozens of them.

Soldiers.

Hundreds.

The prison army was arriving.

The boy looked toward the corridor.

More guards poured into the dungeon.

Archers.

Knights.

Elite soldiers.

Far more than before.

At their center stood a man in black armor.

The Royal Commander.

General Draven.

The most feared warrior in Ashkar.

The giant commander stopped when he saw the dragon.

Stopped again when he saw the shattered gate.

And completely froze when he saw the dragon bowing.

To the boy.

The general removed his helmet slowly.

Disbelief filled his face.

“Impossible.”

The boy frowned.

“What?”

The general stared.

Not at him.

At a symbol.

A symbol that had appeared on the boy’s wrist.

Glowing silver.

The mark had appeared after he struck the prison gate.

The boy hadn’t even noticed it.

But the general had.

And judging by his reaction—

he recognized it.

The general slowly dropped to one knee.

The soldiers behind him gasped.

Nobody had ever seen General Draven kneel.

Not before nobles.

Not before kings.

Not before anyone.

Yet now—

he was kneeling.

The soldiers stared in shock.

The general lowered his head.

Then spoke words that echoed through the prison.

“The Dragon Mark.”

The boy looked confused.

The general raised trembling eyes.

“I thought it was only a legend.”

The ancient dragon growled softly.

Almost in agreement.

The general swallowed.

Then continued.

“Five hundred years ago…”

The soldiers listened.

“So says the oldest prophecy of Ashkar…”

His voice became quieter.

“The prison beneath the kingdom was not built to keep criminals inside.”

Silence.

The boy frowned.

“Then why was it built?”

The general looked around the dungeon.

Around the chains.

Around the dragon.

Around the ancient walls.

Then answered.

“To protect the kingdom until the Dragon Heir returned.”

The words struck the corridor like lightning.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

The dragonling looked at the boy.

The ancient dragon looked at the boy.

The general looked at the boy.

Every soldier looked at the boy.

Then—

the ancient dragon slowly lifted one chained leg.

And slammed it into the floor.

BOOOOOOM.

The dungeon cracked.

Stone split apart.

Ancient runes awakened across the walls.

Blue light flooded the darkness.

The entire prison transformed.

The soldiers stepped backward.

Terrified.

The stone floor shifted.

The walls opened.

Hidden chambers emerged.

Lost halls revealed themselves.

And in the center of the prison—

an enormous symbol appeared.

A dragon crest.

Ancient.

Forgotten.

Royal.

The same crest glowing on the boy’s wrist.

The general stared at it.

Then at the boy.

Finally understanding.

The prison had never been a prison.

Not truly.

It was a vault.

A sanctuary.

A place built centuries ago to hide something.

Or someone.

And somehow—

the soldiers had thrown the one person it was waiting for into its depths.

The boy slowly looked around.

At the glowing walls.

At the dragonling beside him.

At the ancient dragon kneeling before him.

At the army staring in silence.

Then a voice echoed from deep within the awakening halls.

Ancient.

Powerful.

Older than time itself.

“At last…”

The dungeon shook.

The dragons raised their heads.

The soldiers trembled.

And the voice spoke again.

“After five hundred years…”

A golden light began rising from beneath the prison floor.

The entire kingdom above started trembling.

Castle towers shook.

Bells rang across Ashkar.

Citizens rushed into the streets.

Nobody understood what was happening.

Deep underground—

the boy stood at the center of it all.

Then the ancient voice finished its sentence.

“The Heir has finally come home.”

And somewhere far beneath the kingdom—

something colossal began to awaken.