Darian stumbled over the rocky path, his feet struggling to keep pace with Oryn. The storm raged around them, but the old man moved as though the wind and rain were nothing more than a gentle breeze. Every few moments, Darian cast a glance at the sky, where Sumner's massive form still circled, disappearing and reappearing between flashes of lightning.
"Where are we going?" Darian shouted over the storm.
"To a place where you'll be safe," Oryn replied without slowing. His voice, despite the storm, was steady and clear. "And where the truth will be revealed."
They moved through the forest at the edge of the village, the trees bending beneath the weight of the storm's fury. Darian's heart raced. None of this made sense. Yesterday, he was just a boy with a simple life, but now everything felt like a storybook come to life—except it was far more terrifying.
They soon arrived at the foot of the mountains, the jagged rocks rising high above them like the teeth of a great beast. Oryn led him toward a narrow crevice in the rock. At first glance, it seemed like nothing more than a crack in the mountain, but as they approached, Darian saw that it opened into a hidden cave.
Oryn stopped at the entrance and turned to face Darian. "Inside this cave lies your future, and your past. You must be brave, Darian. What you will see here may change everything."
Darian, breathing heavily, nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at him. What did Oryn mean by his "past"?
With a flick of his wrist, Oryn lit a torch, illuminating the darkened passage inside. The cave was narrow and wound deep into the mountain. The sound of the storm faded as they descended, replaced by the quiet drip of water from the stone ceiling and the occasional echo of their footsteps.
After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel opened into a vast chamber. Darian's breath caught in his throat. The walls were covered in carvings—ancient symbols and images of dragons, battles, and kings. In the center of the chamber stood a massive stone altar, upon which lay an enormous dragon egg, its surface shimmering with a soft, otherworldly light.
"What is this place?" Darian whispered, his voice small in the cavernous space.
"This is the Hall of Origins," Oryn said quietly, stepping forward. "Here is where the first bond between dragons and humans was formed. This is where Sumner's story began—and where yours does too."
Darian approached the altar, his eyes fixed on the dragon egg. It pulsed faintly, as though it were alive, and something deep inside him stirred. "What does this have to do with me?"
Oryn came to stand beside him, his gaze solemn. "The bond between you and Sumner is not just of legend—it's a connection forged by blood. Your ancestors were among the first dragon riders, those chosen to protect the realm. But that bond was broken long ago when the dragons were hunted and driven to extinction—save for Sumner."
Darian shook his head in disbelief. "But I'm no dragon rider. I'm just a boy."
"No," Oryn said, his eyes intense. "You are much more than that. Sumner has chosen you to be his rider, to restore the bond that was lost. The storm, the awakening, all of it was for you."
Darian's heart pounded in his chest. It was too much to take in. A dragon rider? Chosen by Sumner? He looked back at the egg, which now seemed to glow brighter.
"What happens now?" Darian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Oryn's gaze shifted to the dragon egg. "Now, you must prepare. The world is changing, and with it, enemies will rise. You and Sumner are the only hope this realm has left. The prophecy says that when Sumner rises, darkness will follow. You must be ready to face that darkness, Darian."
Darian felt a cold chill run down his spine, but at the same time, a strange warmth blossomed in his chest. Something about this place, about the dragon, felt right. Like it had always been waiting for him.
"What do I need to do?" he asked, his voice steadying with resolve.
Oryn smiled faintly. "You begin by embracing your destiny. The first step… is waking Sumner."
Darian's eyes widened as Oryn placed a hand on the egg.