"My son, I love you deeply, but I have to go. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I know that one day, we will meet again. Your father..."
I woke up with a start, my chest heaving. My room was silent, save for the faint ticking of the old grandfather clock by the door. This dream was different. Unlike the usual nightmares of flying snakes, dragons, or humans wielding terrifying supernatural powers, this was… comforting.
Her voice still echoed in my ears. It was the most ethereal, soothing sound I had ever heard—soft, warm, full of love. A love so profound it seemed to seep into my very soul. But her words stirred questions I couldn't answer. Who was this woman? She called me her son. Could it be true? Did I have a mother? And what did she mean about my father?
All my life, I'd been told I was a bastard child. The unwanted product of a disgraceful scandal that tarnished the Lockwood name. But this voice in my dream—it was too vivid, too real.
My name is Jack Dragonian.
For as long as I could remember, I had lived under the weight of a legacy I wasn't allowed to claim. The Lockwood family was one of the richest and most influential in Zentan State, and at its height, my mother stood at the top. She had transformed the family business into an empire, bringing in record profits and elevating the family from middle-class merchants to elites.
But her success was also her downfall. When she was discovered pregnant out of wedlock, the vultures within the family circled. Gary Lockwood, my great-grandfather's nephew, was her fiercest rival. For years, he had been overshadowed by her achievements, his failures as a businessman glaring in comparison. My mother's pregnancy was the opportunity he needed to strike.
He orchestrated a campaign to ruin her. The media exploded with scandalous headlines, painting her as a disgrace to the Lockwood name. Online forums buzzed with rumors, spurred on by paid trolls. Family elders, already resentful of her power, demanded her removal as CEO. Under immense pressure, my great-grandfather reluctantly stepped in, stripping her of her title.
But despite everything, my great-grandfather loved her. He refused to banish her completely, even when the rest of the family demanded it. She gave birth to me not long after. I was her world, her everything. She even defied tradition, refusing to let me bear the Lockwood surname. She named me Jack Dragonian, a name that was mocked and jeered by the family. But she stood firm.
For eighteen precious months, we were together. Then, tragedy struck.
She died in a car crash. The circumstances surrounding her death were murky, suspicious even, but the fact remained: I was orphaned. My great-grandfather took me in, shielding me from the family's wrath.
But everything changed when he passed away. I was five years old when Gary Lockwood's father, Harold, ascended as the new patriarch.
The Lockwoods turned on me like wolves. Gary Lockwood, now emboldened, pushed to erase any trace of my mother's legacy—and mine. My grandparents fought desperately to protect me, but they were outnumbered. A year after my great-grandfather's death, Harold Lockwood called a family meeting and declared that I was to be banished.
For hours, my grandparents argued, pleading on my behalf. In the end, a compromise was reached: I would be sent away to a small, decrepit mansion across town, far from the Lockwood estate. Two servants, a maid and a guard, were assigned to look after me. I was six years old when they packed my things and sent me away.
I'll never forget the cold, triumphant look on Gary's face as I was escorted out. "Good riddance," he sneered. "Your bastard blood doesn't belong here."
Life in exile was harsh. The mansion was in disrepair, its grand halls filled with echoes of emptiness. My maid, Clara, did her best to make it feel like home, and my guard, Victor, was a stoic but kind presence. But the loneliness was crushing.
I spent my days reading books from the small library, immersing myself in stories of heroes and legends. At night, the nightmares came. Dragons, flying creatures, and shadowy figures haunted my dreams. I never told Clara or Victor. They wouldn't understand.
But last night's dream was different. The woman's voice lingered in my mind, igniting a flicker of hope. Was it possible that everything I had been told was a lie? Could my mother have loved me as deeply as the woman in my dream? And who was my father?
Questions swirled in my head as I got out of bed and pulled back the heavy curtains. Dawn's light spilled into the room, chasing away the shadows.
Clara was waiting in the kitchen with breakfast. Her warm smile was one of the few comforts in my life.
"You were up late again, weren't you?" she asked, her tone gently scolding.
I shrugged, poking at my eggs. "Couldn't sleep."
Victor walked in, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. "Jack, you've got a visitor," he said gruffly.
"A visitor?" My heart leaped. No one ever came here. Who could it be?
Victor led me to the sitting room. A man in a tailored suit stood by the window, his back to me. He turned as we entered, and I froze.
"I don't believe we've met," he said, his voice smooth and cold. "My name is Gregory Lockwood. I'm here on behalf of the family."
End of Chapter 1.