The Dragon King's Cursed Heir

The wind howled across the ruins of Eldoria as Kael stood alone beneath the shattered tower, his dark cloak whipping around him like a shadow. The village had long since fallen asleep, but Kael never rested easily. Every night, the same nightmare returned—flames, screaming, and a pair of glowing red eyes watching him from the darkness. He tightened his fist, forcing the strange power inside him to stay quiet. It always came alive when he was afraid, hungry, or angry. A black mist would crawl across his skin, devouring everything around him like it wanted to swallow the world whole. The villagers called him cursed. Some called him a monster. Kael had stopped correcting them long ago. But tonight was different. A flash of silver light appeared at the edge of the forest, followed by the sound of breaking branches. Kael turned sharply, his heart pounding. Through the mist stepped a girl with glowing wings and silver hair, her clothes torn from running too fast. She was wounded, breathless, and terrified. “Please,” she whispered. “If you still have any kindness left… help me.” Before Kael could answer, the ground trembled. A dark roar echoed through the trees, deep and ancient, shaking the earth beneath his feet. Something was coming. Something powerful. Then the mark on Kael’s chest burned like fire. He gasped and staggered back as black dragon energy surged through his body. For the first time in years, he heard a voice inside his mind. “The blood of the Dragon King still lives.” Kael looked up, eyes widening in fear. And in that moment, his fate began.