The wind howled through the jagged peaks of the Slavic mountains, sending sheets of snow swirling through the air. Eira pulled her scarf tighter around her face, her breath crystallizing in the cold, dry air. The harsh environment was no stranger to her—she had spent countless years studying the ancient rocks and forgotten ruins scattered across these wild mountains. But today, as she stood over the crumbling remnants of a long-abandoned temple, she felt the weight of something greater than just the mountain on her shoulders.
The stone beneath her boots was uneven, as if the land itself was shifting in its sleep. Eira crouched low, scraping away centuries of dirt and debris to uncover a fragment of an ancient tablet. Her gloved fingers moved with precision, careful not to damage the intricate carvings. The symbols were unfamiliar, but they resonated with a power she couldn't quite place. The glow from her lantern flickered, casting eerie shadows across the weathered stones.
"Just a little further," Eira muttered to herself, her voice nearly lost in the wind. Her tools clinked as she scraped away the last layer of soil, revealing a smooth, dark stone fragment. At first, it appeared to be nothing more than a slab of ancient rock, yet the energy it emanated made her pause.
She carefully examined the markings etched into the stone. A series of symbols, almost like an alphabet she'd never seen before, spiraled in a pattern. There was something familiar about the script—something alive about it. A hum ran through her fingertips as they traced the lines, and for a fleeting moment, she could swear the stone pulsed under her touch.
Her heart skipped a beat.
"Terrakai," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the howling wind. She'd studied the old legends, the stories told in hushed tones by the elders of the nearby villages. Terrakai—the Earth Dragon, said to be a guardian of the land, who could move mountains with a mere thought, whose power was so immense it shaped the very ground on which the world stood. But that was impossible. The dragons were ancient myths. Everyone knew that.
Yet, as she stared at the stone, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than just an artifact. It was a fragment of something far greater.
Eira's breath came in shallow gasps as she rose to her feet. The wind had shifted, growing colder, sharper. Her instincts screamed at her to leave, to pack up her findings and head back to the safety of the village. But there was no turning back now.
The mountains were silent, save for the occasional whisper of wind. But in the stillness, something else caught her attention. A shadow moved in the distance, just beyond the edge of her camp.
Her heart raced. At first, she thought it was the trick of the light, the long shadows cast by the mountains. But then it moved again, a figure outlined against the falling snow. No one was supposed to be out here. She hadn't seen another soul in days.
"Hello?" Eira called out, her voice cutting through the cold. Her words were swallowed by the wind, but the figure did not respond. Instead, it lingered at the edge of her camp, its silhouette barely visible against the backdrop of white.
Her instincts kicked in. She reached for the knife at her side, her hand steady despite the adrenaline surging through her veins. The figure did not move—its presence unnerving, as if waiting for something. Or someone.
Eira turned back to the tablet fragment, picking it up with both hands. Her mind raced. The presence of the figure unsettled her, but more pressing was the tablet. She knew she needed to get it out of here, to study it in a safer place. It could be the key to unlocking everything she had been searching for, and she couldn't afford to lose it.
The figure shifted once more, stepping closer. Eira's breath caught in her throat. It wasn't just the cold that made her shiver—it was the feeling that she wasn't alone, that she hadn't been alone for some time.
She took a step toward the edge of her camp, her eyes never leaving the figure as it slowly advanced.
Then, in a flash, the figure lunged.
Eira's heart pounded as she reacted instinctively, pulling the tablet close to her chest and sidestepping the oncoming attack. The figure collided with the ground where she had been standing just a second ago, kicking up snow and dirt.
"Who are you?" Eira shouted, her voice steady but her pulse quickening. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the knife, ready for whatever came next.
The figure rose to its feet, brushing snow from its cloak. A man, tall and cloaked in the heavy furs typical of the northern peoples. His eyes locked onto the tablet she held in her hands, and Eira saw the glint of recognition—or was it greed?
"Give it to me," the man growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"I don't think so," Eira replied, backing away. Her mind raced. Who was this man? What did he know about the tablet? Was he another archaeologist? Or something more sinister?
The man advanced again, his hand reaching for the fragment. Eira sidestepped once more, narrowly avoiding his grasp. The cold wind seemed to howl louder now, pushing at her from all sides.
"That tablet is mine," the man said, his tone no longer a request but a command. He was getting more desperate with each passing second, as if he feared the fragment slipping from his grasp.
Eira's grip on the tablet tightened, her knuckles white. The hum of the artifact beneath her fingers had intensified, a low thrum that vibrated in the air around her. The wind had grown more erratic, swirling around the two of them in violent gusts. Eira could feel the weight of the moment pressing on her—this wasn't just a contest for an artifact anymore. This was something deeper, something she couldn't quite explain.
The man lunged for the tablet again. This time, Eira wasn't fast enough to avoid him. He grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him, but the moment his fingers touched her skin, a shock of raw, searing power shot up her arm—like the ground itself had come alive beneath her feet.
Eira cried out, the pain radiating through her arm, but then—just as suddenly—it stopped. The man's grip slackened. She looked down in disbelief. The earth beneath their feet was shifting, moving of its own accord, like it had come to life.
The man stumbled backward, his face pale with shock. The ground around him began to tremble, and massive boulders rose up from the earth with a terrible groan. Eira's heart raced. The power of Terrakai—the Earth Dragon—was awakening.
"Get away from me!" she shouted, using every ounce of her strength to push the man aside. The earth seemed to listen to her, responding to her voice, pulling the rocks away from the man, pushing him backward as if he were nothing more than a leaf in a storm.
The man fell to the ground, defeated, his eyes wide with fear. Eira turned her attention back to the tablet, still clutched in her hands. The hum had stopped, but the power remained. It was as though the earth itself was calling to her.
Eira looked around, her breath coming in heavy gasps, the echo of the event still vibrating in the air. Her heart was racing—not just from fear, but from something deeper. The realization hit her like a lightning bolt.
Terrakai wasn't just a legend. He was real. And somehow, she was connected to him.
Without another word, she turned and ran, the tablet safely tucked under her arm. The winds howled behind her as she sprinted toward the safety of the nearby ruins. She didn't know what had just happened, or how, but she knew one thing for certain: her life had just changed forever.