Chapter Three: The Dragon’s Secret
863 Words
The dragon circled above Blackthorn Castle.
Its enormous wings sliced through the storm clouds as lightning flashed around its massive form.
No one slept that night.
Fear gripped the kingdom.
Soldiers lined the walls.
Archers stood ready.
Yet the dragon never attacked.
It simply watched.
Waiting.
Princess Aria stood atop the highest tower, her cloak whipping in the wind.
The golden mark on her wrist glowed brighter than ever.
The creature’s eyes never left her.
It was as though an invisible connection existed between them.
One she didn’t understand.
One she couldn’t escape.
Lord Valen climbed the tower stairs and joined her.
“The council wants you inside.”
Aria shook her head.
“No.”
“Your Highness—”
“It isn’t here to destroy us.”
Valen followed her gaze.
The dragon soared through another flash of lightning.
“You sound very certain.”
“I don’t know why.”
She stared at the mark.
“But I can feel it.”
The old advisor looked worried.
“That may be exactly what concerns me.”
Before Aria could respond, a loud horn echoed from the eastern gate.
A rider was approaching.
Fast.
Minutes later, a mud-covered scout burst into the castle courtyard.
His horse nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
The soldier stumbled toward the guards.
“The mountains!”
“What about them?”
The scout struggled to catch his breath.
“There are ruins.”
Valen frowned.
“Ruins?”
The man nodded.
“Ancient ruins. Hidden deep in the Dragonspine Mountains.”
Aria immediately stepped forward.
“And?”
The scout swallowed.
“We found signs of recent activity.”
Valen’s eyes narrowed.
“The stranger.”
The scout nodded.
“He wasn’t alone.”
Aria’s heart sank.
The man who stole the Dragonstone was moving toward the mountains.
Toward something important.
Toward answers.
And she intended to find them.
⸻
By sunrise, Aria, Valen, and a small group of royal guards had left the castle.
The journey into the Dragonspine Mountains was difficult.
Steep cliffs surrounded them.
Cold winds howled through narrow paths.
Snow covered the higher peaks despite the season.
As the hours passed, the dragon continued following from above.
Never too close.
Never too far.
Watching.
Protecting.
Or perhaps waiting.
Aria still couldn’t decide which.
By nightfall, they reached the ruins.
Massive stone pillars rose from the mountainside.
Ancient dragon carvings covered every surface.
The place felt older than history itself.
Valen looked stunned.
“I thought these were myths.”
Aria stepped toward a large stone archway.
The golden mark suddenly burned.
A deep rumble echoed through the ruins.
Then something incredible happened.
The stone doors beneath the archway began opening.
Slowly.
As if recognizing her.
The guards exchanged nervous glances.
Valen whispered, “The mark opened it.”
A hidden chamber lay beyond.
Ancient torches burst to life along the walls.
Golden light illuminated a vast underground hall.
At its center stood a giant dragon statue.
Unlike any dragon Aria had ever imagined.
Its expression wasn’t fierce.
It looked noble.
Wise.
Almost human.
Then she noticed something.
A crystal embedded in the statue’s chest.
The moment she stepped closer, the crystal glowed.
A voice filled the chamber.
Ancient.
Powerful.
“Blood of the First King.”
Everyone froze.
“Bearer of the Mark.”
Aria’s heart pounded.
“Who’s there?”
The voice continued.
“The inheritance awakens.”
The crystal flashed.
Images flooded the room.
Visions.
A dragon flying beside a king.
Ancient armies.
A great war.
Flames consuming kingdoms.
Then a dark figure appeared.
A man surrounded by shadows.
The same stranger who stole the Dragonstone.
Valen gasped.
“The Shadow Mage.”
Aria turned.
“You know him?”
The old man’s face had gone pale.
“I hoped he was dead.”
The vision continued.
The Shadow Mage stood before a giant black dragon.
Not controlling it.
Serving it.
The sight sent chills through Aria.
Then the crystal revealed one final image.
A crown.
Forged from gold and dragon scales.
Resting deep within a hidden mountain.
“Find the Crown of Flames.”
The voice echoed through the chamber.
“Before darkness claims it.”
The vision vanished.
Silence followed.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, Aria broke the silence.
“The Crown of Flames.”
Valen nodded slowly.
“An ancient relic.”
“What does it do?”
The old advisor looked troubled.
“According to legend, whoever wears it can command dragons.”
The room fell silent again.
That changed everything.
If the Shadow Mage found the crown first…
The kingdom would be doomed.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from outside.
The guards drew their swords.
Another crash followed.
Closer.
Then came screams.
Aria rushed toward the entrance.
Her blood ran cold.
Dark figures surrounded the ruins.
Dozens of them.
Creatures with glowing red eyes.
Twisted armor.
Black blades.
The Shadow Mage’s soldiers.
At their center stood the man himself.
Smiling.
Waiting.
His silver eyes met Aria’s.
“You saved me a great deal of searching.”
The Shadow Mage raised a hand.
His army advanced.
The battle for the Dragon’s Inheritance had begun.
To be continued…
- Writer
