In a cavern surrounded by icy waters and frozen flames, there lived a man with the body of a human and the soul of a dragon. On this fateful afternoon, he received visitors. The air was thick with tension as one figure, draped in a black cloak adorned with a gold-lined hood, focused intently on a glowing orb resting atop a sturdy wooden table. This was Jordi, a seer who had served the dragon kingdom for centuries, now foretelling the destiny of his guest.
Across from him stood a man with a commanding presence: broad-shouldered, clad in gleaming gold armor, with short-cropped white hair. His piercing gaze was fixed on the half-dragon, half-human host, his arrogance palpable.
"Your destiny lies with a woman of extraordinary power and breathtaking beauty," Jordi declared. "Men are captivated by her allure, yet they tremble before her might. None dare approach her, but you, my king, are destined to conquer her heart."
The regal man, Altarf, the newly crowned Dragon King, slammed his fist onto the table. His sapphire-blue eyes flashed with anger. "How dare you speak such nonsense to your king!" he growled, his deep, resonant voice vibrating through the cavern. His frustration was evident, his muscular frame taut with tension.
Jordi calmly held his ground. "My lord, I speak only the truth shown to me by the magic orb. I would never dare lie to you."
Altarf scoffed, brushing aside the prophecy. "Enough of this triviality! I came to discuss tonight's mission to the human world, not to hear about some imagined romance."
Despite the heated exchange, Jordi's loyalty to the dragon kingdom remained unshaken. Meanwhile, preparations for the evening's mission were underway. Altarf's uncle, Brondby, an arrogant man with flowing blonde hair and a red battle tunic, was marshaling the dragon soldiers. Though he served as prime minister, Brondby was known for challenging his nephew's authority—a defiance Altarf tolerated only out of familial respect.
By nightfall, Altarf and his retinue embarked on their journey to the human world. Their objective was clear: retrieve the magma stones from the heart of a massive volcano. These stones were vital, both for crafting weapons and maintaining peace. Without them, volcanic eruptions would wreak havoc, threatening humans and dragons alike.
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On the slopes of the volcano, a young woman named Antena was gathering firewood. Her long white hair shimmered under the moonlight, her elegant white dress contrasting with the rugged landscape. Though her beauty was undeniable, she carried herself with a quiet strength that deterred any advances.
"If only Father understood me," she muttered, stacking sticks into her arms. Her life with her stepfamily was far from ideal; she was treated as a servant while her stepsister basked in luxury. Yet, Antena remained resilient, her spirit unbroken.
Suddenly, a loud whooshing sound filled the air. Looking up, she saw massive shadows cutting across the night sky. Dragons. Her curiosity led her to follow them, her stealthy steps bringing her closer to the volcano's peak. She hid in the bushes, watching as the dragons disappeared into the fiery crater.
Before she could retreat, chaos erupted in her village. A rogue dragon had followed her, wreaking havoc among the terrified townsfolk. Gripping a small blade, Antena faced the beast head-on. Her agility allowed her to land a strike on the dragon's leg, but her victory was short-lived. The dragon roared in pain and unleashed a torrent of fire. Antena braced for the worst.
But the flames never reached her.
Opening her eyes, she found herself encased in the protective embrace of a magnificent white dragon. Its wings shielded her from the inferno. The white dragon roared, driving the rogue beast away. Transforming into his human form, Altarf stood before her.
"Are you unharmed?" he asked, his voice softer now.
Antena nodded, her gratitude mingling with awe. "Yes, thanks to you."
Their gazes locked, a fleeting connection forming between them. But as quickly as it began, Altarf turned back into his dragon form, ready to leave.
"Wait!" Antena called after him. "How can I ever repay you?"
Altarf ignored her, taking to the skies. Determined, Antena devised a plan. She sprinkled a tracking powder on his tail as he flew away. "You won't escape me that easily," she murmured.
Her journey was grueling. She traversed mountains, forests, and vast oceans, enduring hunger and exhaustion. Finally, she reached a towering cliff crowned with a castle. Scaling the jagged rocks, she arrived at the gates, only to be met by the dragon guards.
"Who are you? State your purpose!" one demanded.
"I need to see someone," Antena replied firmly.
"A spy from the merfolk kingdom, no doubt," another guard sneered. Before she could protest, they dragged her to the dungeon.
When word of her capture reached Altarf, he stormed into the cell, his expression a mix of shock and suspicion. "You?" he demanded. "How did you get here?"
Antena, despite her fatigue, met his gaze with unwavering determination. "I followed you," she said simply.