The heat was unbearable. Jacob could feel the sweat rolling down his neck, but he couldn't move a muscle. His body was frozen in place, locked within the confines of the Dragon Jaw spell that Cypher had cast. The lava walls surrounding him, Zede, Kylan, Druid, and the others were slowly closing in, inching closer to the center with each passing second. The molten barrier crackled with intense energy, and the glow it cast only made the sense of doom more suffocating.
Every dragon outside was cheering, laughing, their voices echoing through the ridge. To them, this was entertainment. A gruesome feast in waiting. The walls closing in on their prisoners, turning them into nothing more than statues trapped in molten rock.
Inside, Jacob's mind raced. He couldn't move, not even to blink, but his thoughts were alive with panic and regret. He thought of the humans of Ditivas—those girls who had been abducted and were waiting for him to rescue them. He had promised to bring them back. Now, it seemed that promise would die with him here in this infernal cage. His wings, transformed from a dragon, were singed and smoldering, pain flickering through him as the intense heat licked at his body.
On his shoulder, Druid was equally trapped in the spell, his small wooden frame trembling internally. The stubborn little bull still had fight left in him, and in his mind, he was imagining his future victory, envisioning a showdown with Cypher—Druid's sharp hooves and headbutts landing blow after blow. But those fantasies faded quickly as the reality of the situation settled in. The wall of molten rock was just inches away from touching him. Would he be able to challenge Cypher? Would he ever even get the chance?
Kylan, paralyzed beside Jacob, could only think of Alcor, his mentor and the one who had gifted him the power to channel constellations. Kylan had trained for so long, dedicating his life to these celestial abilities. But now, in this foreign realm where the stars were different, where he couldn't recognize a single constellation, his powers felt useless. He had failed Alcor, failed himself. As the walls pressed closer, he couldn't help but wonder if this was his fate—a star magician lost and helpless in a world not his own.
Zede, was frozen in place, unable to deploy any of his devices. His companion, Diego, the metallic bull on his shoulder, could only weep silently in his mind, tears of oil pooling within his circuits. Zede's thoughts were a blur of apologies. He apologized to his parents for not being able to return home, to his friends—those lost and those waiting—and to Aayam. He had promised himself he would never be caught unprepared again. But here he was, defenseless.
The walls grew hotter, brighter. They were nearly upon them. Everyone inside the Dragon Jaw prison could feel the end nearing, the crushing weight of defeat pressing down on them as surely as the molten walls themselves.
The enemy dragons were roaring with laughter outside, celebrating their slow, fiery victory. Some had even begun to chant for the walls to move faster, eager to see their enemies turned into ash. The sound was deafening, a cruel reminder of how they were nothing but prey now.
But then, over the din of the cheering dragons, a new sound pierced the air. It was faint at first—a distant fluttering that soon grew louder and louder, until it was unmistakable. The dragons outside began to look up, their laughter faltering. The sound was unmistakable: wings. And not just a few. It was the thunderous beat of countless wings slicing through the air, growing nearer with every moment.
The dragons turned their gazes to the sky, where a shadow was forming. A massive, dark cloud of dragons, their shapes blotting out the sun. The exiled dragons of Dragon Hills had come. They filled the sky in a magnificent, coordinated formation, their scales reflecting in hues of blue, red, and green. At the head of this aerial assault was an ancient, grizzled dragon whose wingspan cast an enormous shadow over the battlefield.
"Charge!" bellowed one of the leading dragons, and the exiled warriors dove toward the prison.
Four of them, large and powerful, linked claws mid-flight, forming a chain that glowed with shimmering light. They circled above the Dragon Jaw spell, flapping their wings in synchronized bursts as they attempted to break the barrier.
Inside, Jacob's dragon wings continued to burn, the searing pain spreading through his body. He cried out in his mind, though no sound escaped his frozen lips. The walls were inches from him now, and he could feel the heat scorching his skin, burning away his resolve. He looked around at his friends, Zede's eyes filled with helpless guilt, Kylan's expression one of frustration and sorrow, Druid's wooden body smoldering under the unbearable heat.
And then—just as Jacob thought the walls would consume him whole—the spell began to crack.
The dragons above let out a triumphant roar as their combined energy started to wear down the molten barrier. The lava shimmered and pulsed, the once impenetrable walls weakening, losing their cohesion. The four dragons pulling at the barrier strained with every flap of their wings, pushing themselves to the limit.
Snap!
The spell broke.
The glowing walls of molten rock collapsed into embers, disintegrating into the air. The group inside the prison gasped for air as the sudden release of energy washed over them. Each of them dropped to their knees, panting and trembling, but alive.
Jacob felt his wings cool down as they faded back into his human form. His body was sore, but the burning sensation was gone. Beside him, Kylan, eyes wide with relief, gazed up at the unfamiliar stars above, wondering if the constellations themselves had watched over them in this dark hour.
Outside the shattered remains of the Dragon Jaw prison, the enemy dragons stood in stunned silence. The cheers had stopped. The laughter was gone. All eyes were on the sky, where the exiled dragons hovered, victorious in their assault.
Jacob and his friends took a moment to catch their breath, feeling the weight of death lifted from their shoulders.
"Let's finish this," Regal's voice echoed in their minds, now filled with renewed determination.
With a roar of defiance, the exiled dragons descended, and the real battle began.