Eryndor's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry as the world slowly came into focus. The first thing he noticed was the warmth—the kind of gentle, comforting warmth that wrapped around him like a soft blanket. For a moment, he thought he was back home, under the care of Morgana, but the vast, open sky above him told a different story.
He sat up slowly, his body feeling oddly light and rejuvenated. He glanced down at his hands, startled to see that his once blistered, filthy skin was now smooth and unblemished. His clothes, which had been tattered and soaked with sweat and grime, were spotless, as if freshly laundered.
"What… what happened to me?" he murmured, his voice cracking from not speaking in a long time.
Eryndor ran his fingers over his arms and face, marvelling at how clean and healthy he felt. His stomach no longer ached from hunger, and his throat wasn't parched. It was as though he had been cared for with precision and tenderness.
His eyes scanned his surroundings. The barren wasteland had been replaced by a serene glade. Golden grass swayed gently in the breeze, and the air carried the faint scent of blooming wildflowers. It was peaceful, yet eerily unfamiliar.
Then he saw it.
A few meters away, sprawled lazily on a patch of sunlight, was a creature unlike anything Eryndor had ever imagined. At first glance, it looked like a massive bird, its feathers shimmering with hues of red, orange, and gold, as though forged from the heart of a fire. But as Eryndor's eyes adjusted, he noticed the scales glinting beneath the feathers, the long, sinuous tail curling around it, and the elegant, clawed limbs tucked under its body. Its head, crowned with horns that seemed to glow faintly, rested on its forelimbs.
Eryndor gasped audibly, the sound breaking the silence of the moment.
The creature's eyes snapped open, revealing irises that burned like molten gold. It stretched leisurely, yawning to reveal rows of sharp, glistening teeth. Despite its formidable appearance, there was an odd gentleness in its gaze as it fixed its eyes on Eryndor.
"Ah, you're finally awake," the creature said, its voice a deep, resonant hum that seemed to reverberate in Eryndor's chest.
Eryndor scrambled backward, his heart pounding. "What… what are you?"
The creature tilted its head, almost amused. "I am called many things, young one. Some call me the Firebird; others know me as the Ember Warden. But you… you may call me Asvarion."
Eryndor stared, his fear mingling with fascination. "You… you can talk?"
"Clearly," Asvarion replied, folding its wings neatly against its body. "And I must say, it's about time. Do you have any idea how long you've been asleep?"
Eryndor shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "No. How long?"
The creature's eyes softened. "Five years."
The words struck Eryndor like a thunderclap. "Five… years?" he repeated, his voice trembling.
"Yes," Asvarion confirmed, its tone calm. "When I found you, you were on the brink of death. I couldn't leave you in that state, so I brought you here and used my magic to sustain you."
Eryndor's mind raced. Five years? He struggled to comprehend the enormity of it. "But… how? I feel fine. I'm clean. I'm… alive."
"As I said," Asvarion replied patiently, "I used magic. I fed you, cleaned you, and healed your wounds every day. I made sure you remained healthy as you rested."
Eryndor's hands trembled as he clutched his chest. "Why would you do that? Why help me?"
The dragon-like creature leaned closer, its golden eyes piercing. "Because you are not just any boy, Eryndor Darkfire. There is power within you—an ancient, untamed force. I sensed it the moment you arrived in this land, and I knew you were important."
Eryndor's breath hitched. He had always known he was different, but to hear it from this magnificent being made it feel all the more real.
"I… I don't understand," he admitted. "What power?"
Asvarion chuckled softly. "You will, in time."
Suddenly, a thought struck Eryndor like a lightning bolt. "My parents!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency. "What about my father, Kael, and Morgana? Are they safe? Do they even know I'm alive?"
Asvarion's expression grew thoughtful. "Your concern for them is admirable," it said. "Do not worry, I have been keeping watch over them."
"You have?" Eryndor's voice trembled with hope.
The creature nodded. "Yes. Your father and Morgana are alive and well. Your father has never stopped searching for you, though he hides his grief behind a mask of strength. Morgana, too, misses you deeply, though she has remained by your father's side, offering him comfort and support."
"She is even pregnant, It seems she was more than a comforter to your father."
Tears welled in Eryndor's eyes. The thought of his family brought a lump to his throat, a mixture of relief and sorrow. "I miss them," he whispered. "I want to see them."
Asvarion's gaze softened. "In time, young one. For now, you must focus on yourself. The world is not yet ready for you, and you are not yet ready for it. Your power must be honed, your spirit strengthened."
Eryndor looked down, his fists clenching. "I don't even know how to control my power. It only comes out when I'm scared or angry."
"And that," Asvarion said, its voice firm yet encouraging, "is why I am here. To guide you, to teach you. Together, we will uncover the depths of your potential."
Eryndor's heart swelled with determination. Though fear and doubt lingered, a spark of hope ignited within him. This creature—this mythical being—had saved him, nurtured him, and now offered to help him understand the very force that set him apart.
He took a deep breath and met Asvarion's gaze. "I'll do whatever it takes. Teach me."
The Firebird smiled, its fiery eyes gleaming. "Good. The journey ahead will be long and arduous, but I see greatness within you, Eryndor. Together, we will prepare you for the challenges to come."
As the sun began to set, casting the glade in hues of gold and crimson, Eryndor felt a sense of purpose stirring within him. His past may have been fraught with pain and loss, but the future held promise—a chance to understand who he was and what he could become.
For the first time in years, Eryndor felt ready to face whatever lay ahead. And beside him, Asvarion stood as a steadfast ally, a guardian, and a guide through the uncharted path of destiny.