In the village Elira had left behind, months passed in quiet chaos. Her absence had turned her family's routine upside down—not because they missed her, but because there was no one to shoulder the burdens of the household.
One afternoon, her aunt was hunched over the kitchen stove, frantically stirring a pot of food that smelled distinctly burnt. Smoke curled toward the ceiling, clouding the cramped room. Her uncle, sitting uselessly in the corner, waved a hand in front of his face with an exaggerated sigh.
"Why does everything you cook taste like ash?" he barked, glaring at the pot.
"Maybe if you weren't sitting there like a lump, it wouldn't burn!" she snapped, slamming the spoon against the pot's edge. "If you're so smart, why don't you cook?"
"I'm a man of many talents," he replied smugly, leaning back in his chair. "Cooking just isn't one of them."
"Ugh, you're impossible," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
Their bickering was interrupted by a neighbor poking her head through the door. "Where's your niece? The one who used to do all the work around here?" she asked, her tone dripping with curiosity.
"She's gone," her uncle said gruffly, not even bothering to look up. "Run off somewhere."
The neighbor arched an eyebrow, her gaze darting to the smoky kitchen. "Well, that's a shame. She was the only one who could make a decent meal around here."
"I'm sure she's fine," the aunt said hastily, waving off the neighbor as she attempted to salvage her scorched dinner.
As the neighbor left, shaking her head, the house sank back into its usual tension—a chaos that only Elira had ever managed to keep in check.
At the castle, Elira's new life had settled into a steady rhythm. Days blurred together as she balanced her demanding duties with moments of quiet reflection. But today felt different. Her body ached more than usual, her muscles weary from relentless work.
Needing a reprieve, she stepped outside, letting the cool breeze caress her skin. The quiet courtyard offered little solace, so she wandered further, her feet carrying her toward the forest. The towering trees whispered softly in the wind, their presence both comforting and mysterious.
As she ventured deeper, a low, rumbling growl stopped her in her tracks. It wasn't the growl of a wolf—this sound was deeper, more primal.
Heart pounding, she followed the noise, curiosity overtaking caution. When she reached a clearing, she froze.
Before her lay a creature of nightmares and wonder—a massive being covered in blood-red scales, its body twisted and angular. Fiery orange eyes burned with both fury and pain, and its heaving chest betrayed its struggle to breathe.
Elira's breath caught. The creature's folded wings bore jagged tears, and its long tail twitched as if in agony. It wasn't a beast—it was something far more extraordinary.
Gathering her courage, she stepped closer. The creature's glowing eyes fixed on her, and its sharp, jagged teeth glinted as its mouth opened slightly.
Water, she thought, her instincts kicking in.
Without hesitation, Elira sprinted to a nearby stream, cupping the cool water in her hands. She raced back, her determination overriding the fear thrumming in her veins.
Kneeling beside the creature, she extended the water toward its mouth. It drank greedily, its tongue lapping up the liquid in great gulps. Then, with a sudden sneeze, a burst of fire erupted from its nostrils, singeing the grass near her feet.
Elira gasped, startled—but instead of retreating, she laughed softly. "Well, that's one way to show gratitude," she said, a wry smile playing on her lips.
The creature's tense body seemed to relax at her laughter, its fiery eyes softening. It studied her for a moment, as though memorizing her face.
Suddenly, the sound of rustling leaves and approaching footsteps shattered the moment. Elira turned sharply, recognizing the heavy, familiar tread of wolves.
"You need to go," she whispered urgently to the creature. "Now!"
The creature unfurled its massive wings, stretching its limbs before disappearing into the trees with a low growl.
Unbeknownst to Elira, the creature shifted as it moved—a transformation both seamless and startling. By the time it reached the forest's edge, it was no longer a dragon but a man.
He stood tall, his broad shoulders and defined muscles giving him an imposing presence. His silver hair framed a face of sharp angles and piercing eyes that still glowed faintly with the fire of his dragon form. A smirk tugged at his lips as he gazed back in the direction Elira had fled.
"Fascinating," he murmured, his deep voice laced with intrigue.
That evening, Kaelion stood before his father in the throne room, his expression set.
"A dragon was spotted near the borders of our kingdom," he reported. "The scouts found signs of its presence—scorched grass, broken branches, claw marks. It's wounded, but it's still dangerous."
The king's brow furrowed. "A dragon? We haven't seen one in centuries. If it's injured, it's desperate. I'll send warriors to investigate."
"I'll lead them myself," Kaelion said, his golden eyes gleaming with determination.
The king studied his son for a moment before nodding. "Very well. But be cautious. If the dragon is cornered, it won't hold back."
Kaelion inclined his head. "I'll handle it."
Under the cover of night, Kaelion and his men ventured into the forest. The air was thick with tension, every rustle of leaves putting them on edge. They followed the dragon's trail—burnt patches of earth, gouges in tree trunks, deep claw marks etched into the soil.
Kaelion crouched by a set of tracks, his sharp gaze scanning the shadows. "He's been here," he murmured. "But he's long gone."
After hours of searching, the trail went cold. The dragon had vanished.
Returning to the castle, Kaelion's frustration was palpable. As he relayed the failed mission to his father, his mind wandered—back to the forest, back to the laughter that had caught him off guard.
Late that night, Kaelion sat alone in his chambers, the weight of the day pressing heavily on him.
He couldn't shake the memory of Elira—the way her laughter had cut through the tension, light and fearless. It was unlike anything he'd expected, and it lingered in his mind, refusing to be dismissed.
"She's different," he murmured, his golden eyes glinting in the dim light.
But his duty loomed larger than his thoughts. The dragon was still out there, and the safety of his kingdom was his priority. Whatever distractions Elira brought, Kaelion resolved to push them aside.
For now.