Chereads / Ashwings: Chronicles of the Draconian Age / Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Shadows of the Past

Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Shadows of the Past

Kael awoke with a start, his breath shallow as though the weight of the Flame had not yet fully settled into his bones. He could still feel the lingering heat from the Heart of the Mountain—the pulse of fire deep within him, as though the very core of the earth was now part of him. It was more than power. It was a burden, one that had already begun to take its toll on his body and soul.

He rubbed his forehead, trying to dispel the feeling of dread that gnawed at him. The voice of the Flame still echoed in his mind: "You are the last of the bondkeepers… the price is more than you can imagine." The weight of those words pressed on his chest, suffocating him with every breath.

A cold wind stirred, and Kael looked up to find Nyxar standing before him, the guardian's molten eyes flickering like embers in the dark. They were deep inside the heart of the mountain now, the journey's end in sight. The fire had calmed, but the cavern was still filled with the faint crackling of distant flames, as if the world itself were still alive.

"You are troubled," Nyxar noted, his voice quiet but heavy with understanding.

Kael nodded, still shaking the remnants of the dream from his mind. It hadn't been a normal dream. It had felt too real, too vivid, as if he had been drawn into the past itself. He had seen a figure standing before a great fire—someone who looked like him, but not quite. The person had spoken to him, but the words were indistinct, lost in the flames.

"I saw something," Kael confessed, his voice low. "A vision. A figure… someone who looked like me. But it wasn't me. It felt like a memory, something buried deep inside me. I don't understand."

Nyxar's expression softened, his eyes narrowing as though considering Kael's words. "The Flame does not grant visions to just anyone," he said quietly. "It speaks to those with blood that ties them to the past. Your lineage, Kael, is older than you know. The bondkeeper bloodline has been lost to time. Until now."

Kael frowned, confusion clouding his mind. "Lineage? Bondkeeper bloodline? What do you mean?"

Nyxar moved closer, his towering form casting a long shadow across the stone floor. "The bondkeepers were once the stewards of the Flame. They were the bridge between dragons and men, chosen to wield its power and protect the balance of the world. But over time, the bondkeepers disappeared, lost to history. Forgotten."

Kael's heart skipped a beat. He had always known he was different, but he never imagined that the difference was tied to something this ancient, this powerful. Could it be true? Could he really be the descendant of the bondkeepers?

"The bondkeepers were the guardians of the Heart," Nyxar continued. "They were entrusted with its secrets and the power to control it. But that power came with a price. Those who wielded the Flame were bound to it, mind and body. The last of the bondkeepers fell centuries ago, and with them, the connection to the dragons was severed. Until you."

Kael's mind reeled as the pieces began to fall into place. His father had always been distant, a man of few words. But Kael's mother, before she died, had told him stories—stories of dragons and flame, of a time when the world was different, when the line between humans and dragons was not so thin.

"But if the bondkeepers fell," Kael said slowly, "why didn't I know about this? Why didn't I know what I was?"

"Because the Flame chooses its own," Nyxar said. "It has waited for the right moment to awaken. And now, the world is changing again. The war between dragons and men approaches, and with it, the return of the darkness that once nearly consumed this world. The Flame has chosen you, Kael, because you are the last link to that time, the last hope for both dragonkind and humanity."

Kael stood in silence, the weight of his newfound heritage pressing down on him. He wasn't just a boy caught in the middle of a war. He was the last of a bloodline that had shaped the history of the dragons. The Heart had chosen him for a reason, and now he understood why. But what did that mean for him, for his future, and for the dragons?

As if sensing Kael's internal struggle, Nyxar spoke again, his voice almost gentle. "You are not alone in this, Kael. The dragons will help you. The Flame runs through them as it runs through you. But you must be prepared to face the darkness that is rising. There are those who seek to control the Flame for their own purposes, and they will stop at nothing to destroy anyone who stands in their way."

Kael nodded, the fire within him flickering with a newfound clarity. He had always known that the world was on the brink of something terrible. But now he understood the stakes. He was more than just a pawn in a war. He was the key to everything—the only one who could unlock the power of the Flame and save both dragons and men from the darkness that threatened to consume them.

As the silence stretched between them, Kael turned his gaze to the distant shadows of the cavern, his mind filled with a thousand questions. Who had the vision been of? And what did it mean for him? He had to find answers, and he had to find them quickly. Time was running out.

The days that followed were a blur of training and preparation. Nyxar had taken it upon himself to teach Kael how to harness the Flame, but the process was slow and painful. The power of the Heart burned within him, sometimes too intensely, threatening to consume him. Kael struggled to control it, each day pushing himself further, learning more about the fire that lived inside him.

Despite the physical toll, something else gnawed at Kael's mind—the shadow of the past. The vision he had seen was not just a random dream. It was a memory, a memory that he couldn't fully grasp. He had to know who the figure had been, who he had seen in the flames.

One evening, as Kael sat alone by a crackling fire, trying to gather his thoughts, the orb at his side pulsed once more. The flame inside it flickered with an unfamiliar intensity, like it was trying to tell him something. He placed his hand over it, and immediately, the world around him shifted.

The fire was alive. He could feel it, see it, taste it. The Flame burned brighter than ever before, and Kael found himself standing in a vast, burning field, the figure from his vision standing before him. This time, he could see the person clearly—a man with eyes like molten lava, a face that was both familiar and strange.

The man spoke, but the words were lost in the crackling of the flames. Kael reached out, desperate to understand, but the vision began to fade, slipping away like smoke in the wind.

"Wait!" Kael shouted, but it was too late.

Kael gasped, his hand pulling away from the orb. He was back by the fire, his heart racing, the vision fading like a dream in the morning light.

But one thing was clear now—the figure in the flames had been his ancestor, the last of the bondkeepers. And the memory, though fragmented, was trying to tell him something important.

He couldn't ignore it any longer. He had to learn more about the bondkeepers, about the history buried within him. The answers he sought were within reach, but the path to them was clouded in shadows.

As Kael stood and made his way to Nyxar's chambers, he knew one thing for certain: the past was not done with him yet.