The air in Myrdrak Vale was tense as the younglings gathered near the base of the Great Spire, the central peak that towered over their city. The morning light filtered through the jagged cliffs, illuminating the faces of 150 dragons, each brimming with a mix of excitement, unease, and pride. They were the product of the same seasonal cycle, born together into the Aurindral Dominion, approximately 5 for every week. Now, they were being sent away.
Drakaryn stood among them, his opalescent white scales shimmering faintly under the light. His transformation had not gone unnoticed; the other younglings kept their distance, their gazes flickering between curiosity and wariness. Tazerith, his crimson rival, was nearby, his scarred face a constant reminder of their last confrontation. For once, there was no sneer on his face, only the same quiet anticipation that hung over the group like a stormcloud.
Vraxia's voice cut through the air, her tone sharper than usual. "Listen well, younglings. Today, you leave Myrdrak Vale. Your time under our wings is over."
The murmurs started immediately, but Rakthar stepped forward, his molten gaze silencing them. "Enough. You have known this day would come. It is our way. You are no longer fledglings to be coddled, nor younglings to be sheltered. You will leave these lands and carve your place in the world. Return in 1,000 years, when the mating season begins, and you will find whether you are fit to be part of Aurindral's legacy."
Drakaryn's claws flexed against the stone, his heart pounding. He had expected to be pushed further, to be tested, but the abruptness of their exile struck him harder than he anticipated. Myrdrak Vale had been his home—its cliffs, its molten streams, its dense forests. To leave it behind felt like severing a part of himself.
Vraxia's molten eyes swept over the group. "From this moment, you are outcasts. You may not return to these lands until the appointed time. Any who fail to heed this will be met with death." Her tail slammed against the stone, punctuating her words.
Rakthar gestured to the back of the cavern. A narrow, jagged passageway that had always been forbidden now loomed before them. "Beyond this cavern lies the Expanse you've only glimpsed. It is a world that owes you nothing. You will not be the apex predators there. You will be hunted as much as you hunt."
The dragons shuffled uneasily, their confidence wavering. Vraxia continued, her voice colder than the mountain winds. "Beyond this cavern, the oceans teem with mastodons, creatures large enough to snatch even the strongest of you from the sky. The forests crawl with treants, massive beasts whose vitality and strength rival our own. Spiders the size of your wingspan weave their traps, while venomous snakes strike faster than thought. These lands will not tolerate arrogance or weakness."
Drakaryn's jaw tightened. He had heard tales of these creatures, but they had always felt distant, part of the exaggerated stories told by elders to frighten fledglings. Now, those tales felt uncomfortably real.
Rakthar stepped closer to the group, his gaze lingering on Drakaryn. "There is no such thing as a circle of life, only the concentration of resources by the strong. Every part of you—your scales, your blood, your flesh—is a treasure to these beasts. You are not the hunters in their eyes. You are the prize. If you survive, you will return stronger. If you fall, you were never meant to return."
The cavern fell silent, the weight of Rakthar's words pressing down on them. Drakaryn glanced around at the other younglings. Some stood rigid, their pride refusing to let them falter. Others shifted nervously, their claws scraping against the stone. Even Tazerith's usual bravado seemed tempered by the gravity of the moment.
Vraxia unfurled her wings, gesturing toward the cavern entrance. "Go now. Show the world what it means to be dragonkind—or perish."
Without waiting for further instruction, the younglings began moving toward the passageway. The narrow tunnel echoed with the sound of claws against stone, the air growing cooler as they descended deeper into the earth. Drakaryn stayed near the back, his mind racing. The stories Rakthar and Vraxia had shared weren't just meant to terrify—they were warnings, ones he couldn't afford to ignore.
The tunnel opened into a vast valley, its jagged cliffs giving way to dense forests and rolling hills. The horizon stretched endlessly, a mosaic of green and blue, with distant mountains rising like sentinels. For a moment, the younglings hesitated, the enormity of the world before them sinking in.
Drakaryn stepped forward, his claws digging into the fertile soil. The air here was different, heavier, filled with the scents of creatures he couldn't yet identify. He spread his wings, testing the currents. Behind him, Tazerith snorted.
"You don't look so untouchable now," Tazerith said, his voice low but dripping with malice.
Drakaryn turned to meet his gaze, his glowing eyes steady. "Neither do you."
Tazerith sneered but didn't push further. The unspoken truth hung between them: out here, the rivalry that had defined them meant little. Survival came first.
The group began to scatter, each dragon choosing their direction. Some took to the skies, eager to put distance between themselves and the others. Drakaryn hesitated. The sky offered freedom, but Rakthar's warning about mastodons lingered in his mind. He opted for the cover of the forest, his wings folding neatly against his back as he moved into the shadows.
The forest was alive, its canopy dense enough to blot out much of the sunlight. The sounds of rustling leaves, distant roars, and the faint hum of mana filled the air. Drakaryn's senses sharpened, every step deliberate as he moved deeper into the unknown.
He paused near a stream, its waters glowing faintly with mana. The scent of prey was strong here, but so was the scent of danger. He crouched low, his claws ready, his mind replaying Rakthar's lessons. The Expanse wasn't just a test of strength—it was a test of patience, strategy, and adaptability.
A low growl rumbled from the shadows ahead, and Drakaryn's heart quickened. Two glowing eyes emerged from the darkness, followed by a massive form. The creature resembled a jaguar, but its fur shimmered like molten silver, and its teeth glinted with an unnatural sharpness. Its gaze locked onto him, and he realized with a chill that he wasn't the hunter here.
Drakaryn's muscles coiled, his mind racing. The exile had only just begun, and already the predators of the Expanse were watching.