Five centuries passed, and the dragons left the mortal realm behind, migrating to the celestial grandeur of the Divine Realm. The once-celebrated Queen of Dragons, Vera, became little more than a whisper in the annals of time. No one dared openly question her absence—Alaric's rule was absolute, and even a glimmer of dissent was met with swift and merciless retribution.
Some whispered that she had chosen to leave, weary of the life she shared with the increasingly cold and distant king. Others claimed that Alaric, in his growing cruelty, had ended her life. But there was another story, one that lingered like a haunting melody among the dragons who dared to dream of a different past. It was said that Vera had not left of her own volition, nor had she died; she had been trapped—sealed away deep within the walls of the castle that had once been her home.
When the dragons abandoned the human realm for the Divine, this tale transformed into legend. In the retelling, the details blurred and shifted like mist. The forgotten queen, they said, had been left behind in the mortal realm, her spirit bound to the ancient castle. Her story became one of sorrow and mystery, a cautionary tale told in hushed tones among the younger dragons.
Meanwhile, Alaric's reign in the Divine Realm was anything but peaceful. The years had hardened him into a tyrant, and he ruled with an iron fist. Any dragon who opposed him—or even mildly annoyed him—met a swift and brutal end. But Alaric's ambitions extended beyond the dragons. He waged relentless war on the other inhabitants of the Divine Realm: the noble qilins, the resplendent phoenixes, the mermaids with their enchanted oceans. His conquests left the once-harmonious realm in ruins, engulfed in endless flames and conflict.
His cruelty and insatiable thirst for power gave rise to rebellion. Among the dragons, a growing force of insurgents rallied together in secret. They were led by a daring and determined male dragon named Evander, who had once been a loyal soldier in Alaric's army.
Evander was not one to believe in legends or fairy tales. But among the countless stories passed down by the old, there was one that caught his attention: the tale of the Forgotten Queen and her unrivaled power, said to be equal to that of the king himself.
Desperate for an edge against Alaric, Evander began to wonder if there could be some truth to the tale. If the queen was as powerful as the stories claimed, she could be the key to toppling the tyrant. And so, with nothing left to lose, Evander made the bold decision to journey to the mortal realm in search of the ancient castle—and the queen who might still be hidden within its walls.
Evander kept his mission a closely guarded secret, bringing only a small team of trusted warriors with him. They were the elite of his rebel forces, sworn to follow him even to the ends of the realms.
The journey to the human realm was fraught with peril. The barrier between the Divine and mortal realms was treacherous to navigate, but after weeks of careful planning and sheer determination, they emerged into the abandoned lands of humanity.
The castle lay in ruins, shrouded in vines and shadow. It stood as a monument to a forgotten time, its once-mighty walls crumbling under the weight of centuries. The air around it was heavy, suffused with an ancient magic that made the hair on Evander's neck stand on end.
For weeks, Evander and his team scoured the castle, searching every hidden chamber and passageway. The more they explored, the more they realized that the castle's decay was only a façade. Beneath its crumbling exterior, there were traces of power—wards and enchantments that had been carefully crafted to conceal something, or someone.
Finally, they discovered a tunnel hidden deep beneath the castle. It was an unassuming opening, half-buried beneath rubble and overgrowth. Yet the moment Evander stepped inside, he felt it—the faint hum of magic, growing stronger with every step.
The tunnel twisted and turned, leading them deep into the earth. At its end lay a cavern unlike anything they had ever seen.
The walls shimmered with glowing crystals, casting a pale, ghostly light that illuminated the entire space. Blue grass covered the floor, swaying gently as though touched by an invisible breeze. And in the center of it all, encased in a crystalline prison, was a woman.
Evander approached cautiously, his breath catching in his throat as he drew closer. The woman's features were delicate yet regal, her expression frozen in an eternal mix of sorrow and resignation. She appeared no older than twenty, her beauty untouched by the passage of time.
There was no doubt in Evander's mind. This was Vera—the Queen of Dragons.
The sight of her filled him with a mixture of awe and unease. How had she been trapped here for so long? And why did her expression seem to whisper an unspoken apology? Was it regret for abandoning her kingdom? For leaving her son?
But those were questions for another time. Evander knew what he had to do. If there was even a chance that Vera could help them defeat Alaric, he couldn't let her remain a prisoner of this place.
"Prepare the area," he commanded his team, his voice firm. "We're breaking this spell.