Isabel's shoulders slumped, and she looked at Pyraxor with great shame. "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I couldn't even do this. I failed you."
Pyraxor's gaze was steady and filled with compassion. "Isabel, you did not fail," he said softly. "Magic is not just about words and rituals. It is about connection, about belief. You must forget everything else and focus inside your body. Feel the changes happening within you. Do not reject them. Embrace them."
Isabel nodded, wiping her tears away. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting Pyraxor's words sink in. She tried to quiet her mind, to push away her doubts and fears. She focused inward, searching for the spark of magic within her.
Slowly, she began to feel it. A warmth spreading from her core, filling her with a sense of power and purpose. She embraced the sensation, letting it flow through her veins, into every part of her being.
"Now," Pyraxor's voice was a soft whisper in her mind. "Try again."
Isabel reopened the cut on her palm, allowing more of her blood to spill onto the altar. She began to chant the spell once more, but this time, she felt a deeper connection to the words. The magic responded to her call, the air around her shimmering with energy.
"Serathin vyrna, sylaris theryn, brondar lysira," she chanted, her voice filled with conviction. "Elunae fyr, talaris venyth, drakthar illyria."
The tingling in her veins grew stronger, the warmth spreading through her body. She felt the power surging, the ancient words resonating within her. The air crackled with energy, the runes on the Valerean Chains glowing faintly.
Isabel continued to chant, pouring her heart and soul into the spell. "Serathin vyrna, sylaris theryn, brondar lysira, Elunae fyr, talaris venyth, drakthar illyria."
The chains began to tremble, the runes glowing brighter. Isabel could feel the enchantment weakening, the ancient magic bending to her will. She pressed on, her voice rising with determination.
"Serathin vyrna, sylaris theryn, brondar lysira, Elunae fyr, talaris venyth, drakthar illyria!"
With a final surge of power, the chains shattered, the runes bursting into sparks of light. Pyraxor roared, his mighty form shaking off the remnants of his bindings. Isabel collapsed to the ground, exhausted but triumphant.
"We did it," she whispered, looking up at Pyraxor. "We did it."
Pyraxor bent his head down, nuzzling her gently. "You did it, Isabel. You are stronger than you know."
Isabel felt Pyraxor's warmth and strength as he nuzzled her, but their moment of triumph was short-lived. Pyraxor's eyes, filled with urgency, met hers.
"We need to leave, Isabel," he urged, his voice low and intense. "The one who enchanted these chains will know they have been broken. Our enemies will be upon us soon.
"Isabel nodded, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. She climbed onto Pyraxor's back, feeling the powerful muscles of the dragon beneath her. The connection between them, strengthened by their shared ordeal, filled her with renewed determination.
Pyraxor launched himself into the air, his powerful wings beating against the dungeon's stone roof. The ceiling crumbled under the force of his ascent, debris raining down as they surged upwards. His majestic tail whipped around, striking the ancient walls and causing them to shudder and crack further.
As they broke through the collapsing roof, the night sky greeted them with a rush of cold air. Isabel clung tightly to Pyraxor, feeling the raw power of his movements and the fierce determination driving them both. Below, the dungeon crumbled, its structure failing as Pyraxor's tail struck it repeatedly, venting his pent-up rage.
The ground shook as the dungeon collapsed in on itself, dust and stone filling the air. Yet, despite the destruction behind them, the anger within Pyraxor did not diminish. Isabel could feel it pulsing through their connection, a fiery determination to overcome those who had imprisoned them.
Pyraxor's fury was palpable, radiating from him in waves. Each beat of his wings sent tremors through the air, a testament to his pent-up power. His roars echoed into the night, carrying the sound of ancient wrath and unyielding strength. His eyes, usually warm and wise, now burned with an intense, molten rage that illuminated the night around them.
Below them, the dungeon's collapse was almost complete. Walls crumbled into dust, and the ground split open as the foundations gave way. Pyraxor's tail lashed out again, striking the ruins with a force that sent shards of stone flying. Isabel could feel the heat of his anger, like standing too close to a blazing fire, threatening to consume everything in its path.
Pyraxor's fury was not just for his own suffering, but for Isabel's as well. He could feel her pain, her fear, and her determination to survive. It fueled his rage, driving him to ensure that no one would ever harm her again.
The night sky seemed to respond to Pyraxor's fury. Dark clouds gathered, and distant thunder rumbled, as if the heavens themselves were acknowledging the dragon's wrath. Pyraxor's scales glinted in the intermittent flashes of lightning, making him appear even more formidable and terrifying.
Isabel, despite the chaos around them, felt a strange sense of calm. Pyraxor's anger was righteous, and she knew it was a force that would drive them forward. She tightened her grip, her resolve hardening alongside his.
As they flew away from the collapsing ruins, Pyraxor let out one final, earth-shaking roar. It was a declaration, a warning to all who would dare oppose them. The sound echoed through the valleys, carrying their defiance far and wide.
The cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, the same man who had saved Isabel, standing silently outside the ruins of the dungeon with his men.
His gaze lifted to the sky where the dragon soared, and he whispered, "Little lamb, this is all I can do. Now you must fight them alone." A hidden smirk played on his lips beneath the cloak as he and his men vanished into the darkness.