Kael's footsteps echoed in the dimly lit corridors of the Great Library as he made his way toward the secluded alcove he had discovered years ago. Hidden behind a series of disused shelving units, the small nook was his refuge—a place where he could lose himself in thought or escape the watchful eyes of Elder Lorys.
Tonight, it would serve a new purpose.
The orb was heavier than it should have been for its size, its weight pressing into Kael's side through the satchel's canvas. He reached the alcove and slipped inside, pulling the makeshift curtain—a tattered tapestry—to conceal himself. His heart pounded as he set the orb and the black leather book on the small wooden table.
The alcove was silent except for Kael's breathing. The air seemed thicker, charged with an invisible energy. The faint glow from the orb illuminated the narrow space, casting dancing patterns on the walls.
Kael sat, staring at the two objects as if they might come alive at any moment. "All right," he whispered to himself. "Let's figure this out."
He started with the book. Its strange, shifting ink still shimmered faintly in the dim light. Flipping to the map of Eryndor, Kael ran his fingers over the contours of the unfamiliar landscape. The fiery mountain at the center seemed almost alive, its etched flames flickering as if fueled by the orb's glow.
Kael traced a finger to a series of runes near the mountain's base. Unlike the text from earlier, these runes were jagged and sharp, carved with purpose. He could barely decipher their meaning, but a single phrase emerged: The First Flame.
The term tugged at his memory. In his years of study, he had come across only brief mentions of the First Flame—a mythical force said to be the source of all dragonkind's power. Legends claimed it had been extinguished long ago, and with its death came the end of the bondkeepers and their dragons.
Kael frowned. If the First Flame was real, and somehow tied to the orb, then his visions might not be dreams at all. They could be... something more.
The orb, as if sensing his thoughts, pulsed faintly. Kael hesitated before reaching for it, his fingertips brushing its warm surface. The moment he made contact, the room darkened, and the air grew heavy. A low hum filled the space, vibrating through Kael's bones.
The glow from the orb intensified, spilling over the edges of the table like liquid light. Kael gasped as the light coalesced into a shape—a spectral figure standing before him.
The figure was humanoid but taller and more imposing than any person Kael had ever seen. Its translucent form shimmered like fire, its features obscured by flickering light. Twin horns curled back from its head, and its eyes burned like molten gold.
"Who... who are you?" Kael stammered.
The figure's voice resonated with a power that shook the alcove. I am what remains of the First Bondkeeper. You have awakened me, Kael.
Kael's breath caught. "The First Bondkeeper? But you're—"
Dead? Yes. My body has long since perished, but my spirit endures within the Flame. The figure stepped closer, its golden eyes narrowing. Tell me, Kael of Skathar, do you know why the orb chose you?
Kael shook his head, his throat dry. "No. I don't even know what it is. I found it by accident."
There are no accidents, the figure said. The Flame calls to those it deems worthy. You are the last of the bondkeepers, Kael, though your bloodline has been forgotten by time.
Kael stared, his mind racing. "That's impossible. I'm nobody—just a scribe. I've never even seen a dragon."
The figure's expression softened. You have seen them in your dreams, have you not? The chains, the fire, the sorrow? These are not mere visions, Kael. They are memories passed through your lineage. The dragons call to you because you are their last hope.
Kael's hands trembled. "But why me? I don't know anything about dragons or bondkeepers. I don't even know how to... bond with one."
The figure extended a fiery hand, its fingers brushing the orb. You will learn, if you choose to accept your destiny. But be warned, Kael: the path of the bondkeeper is not an easy one. The chains you saw in your visions are real. The dragons are imprisoned, their power siphoned by those who would see them extinct. To free them is to invite war.
Kael's pulse quickened. "War? Against who?"
The figure's gaze burned brighter. The Ashen Covenant—those who shattered the bonds and extinguished the Flame. They seek to maintain their dominion over Eryndor, and they will stop at nothing to see you destroyed.
Kael swallowed hard. "Why can't you do it? You're the First Bondkeeper. Surely you're more powerful than I could ever be."
The figure's light dimmed slightly, its form wavering. I am but a shadow, Kael. My strength is tied to the Flame, and it grows weaker with each passing year. Only the living can reignite the bonds. Only you can restore what was lost.
Kael looked down at the orb, its glow steady and unwavering. He felt the weight of the figure's words settle on his shoulders like a mantle. Could he really do this? Could he defy the Ashen Covenant and restore the bonds with dragons?
He clenched his fists. "If I say yes... what happens next?"
The figure straightened, its fiery form towering over Kael. The path will reveal itself in time. For now, you must leave this place. The Covenant will sense the orb's awakening. They will come for you.
Kael's blood ran cold. "How will I find the dragons?"
The figure extended its hand again, this time toward Kael's chest. Take the orb. Follow its light. It will guide you to the mountain of fire. There, your journey will begin.
Before Kael could respond, the figure's form began to dissolve, its fiery essence spiraling back into the orb. The hum faded, and the alcove returned to silence.
Kael sat frozen, his mind racing. He stared at the orb, its faint glow the only sign that anything had happened. The First Bondkeeper's words echoed in his mind: They will come for you.
Kael knew he couldn't stay in Skathar. Whatever the Ashen Covenant was, they were dangerous—and they were coming. He had to leave the city before dawn, before anyone noticed his absence.
Gathering what little he owned, Kael packed his satchel with the orb, the book, and a few essentials. As he slipped through the quiet halls of the library, he cast one last glance at the place that had been his home for as long as he could remember.
"Goodbye," he whispered, the word catching in his throat.
The streets of Skathar were eerily quiet, the city shrouded in mist. Kael kept to the shadows, his heart pounding with every step. He didn't know where he was going—only that he had to follow the orb's light.
As he reached the city gates, the orb pulsed faintly, as if urging him onward. Kael hesitated for only a moment before slipping through the gates and into the unknown.
Far above the city, hidden in the clouds, a figure watched Kael's departure with cold, unblinking eyes. Cloaked in black and wreathed in shadow, the figure turned away and raised a slender hand. A raven alighted on their arm, its eyes glowing faintly red.
"He has the orb," the figure said, their voice low and venomous. "Send word to the Covenant. The boy will not reach the mountain."
The raven cawed and took flight, disappearing into the mist. The figure lingered a moment longer, their gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
"The Flame will not rise again."