Ashfall's boots crunched softly against the lush grass underfoot as he strode through the sprawling green land surrounding the citadel. The air was fresh, carrying subtle hints of fragrant blossoms and ripe fruit from nearby trees. He inhaled deeply, savoring each scent that was both foreign and familiar after a hundred years of solitude. Above him, the sky stretched wide and vibrant, a vast canvas painted in the serene colors of early morning.
He strolled along, his eyes roaming over the terrain. Sturdy apple trees stood scattered across the field, their boughs weighed down with crisp, red fruit that glistened in the sunlight. Interspersed among them were lemon and banana trees, their bright yellows adding bursts of color to the greenery. It was a sight that could take even the burnt of souls to heaven.
"Only humans," he muttered, glancing up at the laden trees, "would cultivate such things." His memories drifted back to a time when humanity was still in its early days, experimenting with agriculture. He knew the reputation of humans as determined cultivators, yet it surprised him to see how far they had come. His gaze swept further over the landscape, marveling at the way the trees dotted the land in gentle clusters, weaving through glens and groves, crafting an environment as tranquil as it was vibrant.
Just as he was contemplating his path forward, his senses prickled. A faint wisp of smoke reached his nose, subtle yet unmistakable. Being the Warden of Flame, Ashfall's connection to fire went beyond ordinary perception. He could sense even the faintest flicker, the smallest hint of a blaze. He paused, eyes narrowing, following the smoke's trail as it wound upwards into the sky.
A shadow fell over him, accompanied by a sudden gust of wind. He looked up sharply and saw a massive figure soaring through the sky—a dragon, its enormous wings beating in rhythm as it cast its shadow over the land. Its scales gleamed in the sunlight, a mix of deep emeralds and molten gold that shimmered with each movement. Ashfall could feel the intensity of the creature's energy, ancient and ferocious, pulsating even from this distance.
He took in a steadying breath, his eyes narrowing as he studied the dragon's path. The beast was heading directly for the city on the horizon, the same one that had piqued his curiosity earlier. His face tightened with realization.
"Destruction," he murmured to himself. Dragons were among the fiercest beings of the old world, and this one seemed poised to unleash havoc. Yet something else caught his eye. As he focused, he noticed a smaller figure on the dragon's back, its shape obscured by distance but undeniably humanoid. Someone was riding the beast??
Ashfall's demeanor shifted, his expression hardening into resolve. He reached to his belt, where his mask hung, carefully crafted and adorned with the mark of flame. He slipped it over his face, feeling it settle with a sense of familiarity. His hood followed, covering his hair in shadow as he adopted a battle-ready stance, bracing himself as he exhaled slowly.
Then, in a single heartbeat, he vanished. In his place, red flames danced upon the grass, flickering before they too disappeared. Ashfall had broken into a full-speed sprint, faster than sound itself, his form enveloped in a fiery aura that lit up the landscape as he moved. The wind roared past him, the land blurring in a torrent of colors. His speed tore through the air, a red streak flashing across the open field as he raced toward the city.
In mere seconds, he arrived at the city gates, halting atop one of the enormous stone pillars that flanked the entrance. His boots rested on the edge, his stance steady, as he scanned the sky and locked eyes with the dragon. Its eyes blazed with primal fury, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. And now, up close, he could see the rider more clearly—a cloaked figure who handled the reins of the dragon with confident ease, a faint aura surrounding them as they directed the beast.
Ashfall straightened, his eyes narrowing beneath the mask. Flames began to ripple along his shoulders, spreading outward and materializing into a pair of crimson, glowing wings. He stretched them wide, testing their strength as they pulsed with raw energy. Down below, a young girl caught sight of him, her eyes widening as she tugged at her mother's sleeve.
"Look, Mama! Up there!" she pointed, her voice filled with awe.
The mother looked up, but before she could glimpse the figure, Ashfall had already moved. He launched himself into the air, his fiery wings propelling him forward in a burst of speed. His hand moved to his sword, unsheathing the blade that shimmered with a brilliant red glow, igniting into a weapon of pure flame.
In one fluid motion, he surged toward the dragon, readying his blade to strike. His focus was absolute, his mind clear as he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. The dragon's roar filled the air, a sound that rattled through the buildings below, yet Ashfall remained unshaken. He raised his sword, preparing for the clash—
But just as he was about to strike, a sudden shift disrupted his momentum. He barely registered the shimmering wall of water that appeared around him, encasing him in a sphere that glowed with a bluish hue. The sphere pulled him sharply downward, dragging him away from the dragon and crashing him back into the ground with immense force.
The impact sent waves rippling through the earth, and Ashfall lay there, momentarily stunned, as the water prison dissolved, leaving a fine mist in its wake. His sword clattered beside him as he closed his eyes.