In the vast expanse of Luminara, where the skies shifted colors like the emotions of the realm and magic hummed through the air like a living force, there existed a species known only in legends the Drakkan. They were descendants of ancient dragons, their scales forged from the elemental forces of the world, and their blood carried the deep, primal magic of Luminara. These beings were born warriors, their lives intertwined with the eternal pulse of magic that flowed through their planet.

In the heart of Ytherra, the dense, unyielding forest that stretched for hundreds of miles, a prophecy was whispered among the Drakkana prophecy that foretold the birth of a Nightscale/Luminary, a Drakkan born with scales as black as the void between stars. This Nightscale would wield powers beyond imagination, capable of shaping the future of the realm, either to save it or to plunge it into eternal darkness.

Xalin Drakaar was that Nightscale.

The day of Xalins birth was unlike any other in Luminara. The skies, usually a shifting palette of pinks, purples, and blues, had darkened to an unnatural black. Storms roared over the forests of Ytherra, yet no rain fell. The air crackled with tension, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The Drakkan elders gathered in a circle, their scaled bodies gleaming in the dim light, their eyes reflecting the ancient magic they held within.

Inside a cave hidden deep within the forest, Xalins mother, Sylara, labored to bring her son into the world. She was a warrior of unmatched strength,