The fire burned steadily, casting shadows across the gathering of immortals. After hearing Thalos' tale, the air felt heavy with the weight of time, yet there was an unspoken understanding that each had endured their own unique trials. Lucius, ever the orchestrator, turned his sharp gaze toward Nyssa Drakos, sensing she was next to speak.
Nyssa's violet eyes flicked between her companions, sizing them up as she always did with new opponents. But here, no one was an enemy—at least not yet. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and spoke with a voice that carried the intensity of a coming storm.
"Nyssa Drakos. 1,500 years old," she said plainly. "But I suspect none of you care much about numbers. It's the story that matters, right?"
Lucius gave her a slight nod, and Nyssa continued.
"I come from a warrior tribe—fierce, untamed, and proud. We were raised with weapons in our hands and war in our hearts. Combat was life, and victory was everything. I was born in the mountains, where the winds howl like wild beasts and the storms rage without mercy. It was a hard life, but it shaped me."
She paused, glancing briefly at Thalos. "Not so different from your stone guardianship, though my world was full of fire and steel."
Her eyes turned hard as she spoke, the memories of her past wars alive in her voice. "I earned my place in my tribe through combat. I fought in battles so fierce the ground was soaked with the blood of the fallen. And in one such battle, I met my destiny."
Aurelia's golden eyes flickered with interest. "What kind of destiny?"
Nyssa's lips curled into a dangerous smile. "Not the kind you choose. We were in the thick of battle, swords clashing, arrows flying. My tribe was fighting a rival clan—strong, brutal warriors. But in the midst of it all, a creature descended from the sky. A dragon, enormous and ancient. It tore through both sides like we were nothing. It was unstoppable."
The group listened intently, the firelight reflecting in Nyssa's intense violet eyes. "Most of my comrades were killed in an instant. I should have died too. But when the dragon came for me, something strange happened. It didn't burn me alive or crush me. It stopped. Looked at me. And in that moment, I felt something shift inside me."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "The dragon spared you?"
Nyssa nodded. "It did more than that. It marked me. We locked eyes, and I felt its power rush through my veins. I was no longer just a warrior. I had become something… different. A pact was formed that day—between the dragon and me. I gained its strength, its fire, its immortality."
Elara, who had remained quiet thus far, spoke in her soft, ethereal tone. "A pact with a dragon is a rare and dangerous thing. Were you not afraid of what it would cost you?"
Nyssa shrugged. "I wasn't given a choice. The power was mine, whether I wanted it or not. I became something my people feared, something they didn't understand. The 'Dragon-Blooded,' they called me. Revered by some, feared by others. But it didn't matter. I had outlived them all within a few short years. My tribe moved on, and I stayed."
Thalos, his stoic expression unchanged, asked, "What became of the dragon?"
Nyssa's gaze darkened. "It disappeared. Maybe it died. Maybe it still lives, watching from the shadows. But it left me with this." She raised her arms, revealing the intricate tattoos that wound their way across her skin—ancient symbols of power and fire. "These marks bind me to its power. Even now, I feel the dragon's strength coursing through me."
Aurelia, intrigued, leaned forward. "So you've never met the dragon again? After all these years?"
Nyssa shook her head. "No. But I don't need to. Its power is enough. I've fought in countless battles since then, using the strength it gave me. And the more I fight, the more that power grows."
Lucius, ever the strategist, seemed to measure her words carefully. "And what is your goal, Nyssa? You've gained power and immortality, but what drives you now? What purpose do you seek?"
Nyssa's eyes blazed with passion. "Purpose? I fight because that's who I am. Freedom and strength—those are the only things that matter to me. Authority? Cowardice? I despise them. I go where I please, and I challenge anyone who dares stand in my way. I've lived too long to bend a knee to anyone."
Aurelia smirked. "A kindred spirit. Fire and freedom suit us both."
Thalos, ever the rock, simply nodded. "You wield great power, but power without control is chaos."
Nyssa's smile grew wider, more dangerous. "I prefer chaos to control. Control breeds weakness."
Elara, with her calm demeanor, added, "But chaos is fleeting. It burns bright, and then it fades. Do you not fear what may happen when there's no one left to fight?"
Nyssa shrugged again, unconcerned. "There's always someone to fight. If not a person, then a storm, or a mountain. The world is full of challenges. And I'll face them all."
The fire crackled as the group absorbed her words. Nyssa's story was one of battle, of relentless pursuit of strength and independence. She had been marked by something ancient and powerful, but she wore that mark proudly, letting it fuel her need to live on her own terms.
Lucius, ever the master of keeping things moving, smiled slightly. "A tale of fire, strength, and rebellion. Fitting, for one called Dragon-Blooded. We all seem to carry marks of the past, don't we?"
The others nodded, silently acknowledging their shared burdens and destinies. As the firelight flickered and danced, the group fell into silence once more, each contemplating what would come next.