The Chaos Rift devoured the world. The sky was torn apart, spewing blood-red lightning, while the blackened plains cracked open with rivers of molten lava. Amid this chaos, Velstarion, a dragon with obsidian scales gleaming like polished armor, tore through the air with strained beats of his mighty wings. His strength was waning, but he pressed on. Atop his massive head sat Kaelion, a man marked by battle, clutching a baby tightly in one of his two remaining arms. The other two, once proud and strong, were now severed, reduced to scarred stumps. In his free hand, Kaelion gripped a glowing emerald spear, its light flickering like a dying star.

"You know, Vel, you're not exactly a comfortable ride," Kaelion rasped, his voice rough but tinged with a wry smile.

The dragon chuckled, a deep rumble that reverberated through the air around them.

"And you're far too heavy for an old beast like me. Maybe if you still had all four arms, you could hold on properly."

"Oh, so that's how it is?" Kaelion replied, tapping Velstarion's ridge with mock indignation. "Next time, I'll take a horse. At least they don't insult me."

Velstarion laughed, his booming voice cutting through the howling winds.

"A horse? They'd flee at the first roar of an enemy. There's no comparison to me, Kaelion. I am majesty incarnate."

Kaelion shook his head with a weary smile, but his expression darkened as he glanced at the horizon. Behind them, a shadow grew, stretching across the desolate land. The King of Death, with his four black wings unfurled, glided through the ruins with unrelenting precision.

"He's still there," Kaelion murmured, his voice tight with tension.

Velstarion growled, the sound low and ominous.

"Of course he is. That wretch has never known when to quit."

"Vel, I'm serious. If we can't gain more time—" Kaelion began.

"I know," Velstarion interrupted, his tone steady but firm. "But stop looking at me like it's over. You're holding a baby and a spear. You've faced worse odds before."

Kaelion looked down at the child in his arms. The baby, Vildred, stared back at him with wide, innocent eyes, utterly unaware of the chaos surrounding them. Kaelion's throat tightened as he spoke.

"Vildred… I know you don't understand me, but I'm going to talk to you anyway." He paused, the words coming with difficulty. "You are our last hope. The final spark of light in this broken world. Maybe you'll never know why we did all this. Maybe you'll grow up to resent me, or forget our faces altogether. That's okay. As long as you live, nothing else matters. Never let anyone snuff out your flame. Promise me that."

Velstarion turned his massive head slightly, one amber eye glinting with curiosity.

"That's the most sentimental thing I've ever heard you say. Do you want me to cry?"

Kaelion let out a strained laugh, brushing away the tears welling in his eyes.

"No, but maybe a tear or two wouldn't hurt."

The dragon roared with laughter.

"Kaelion, I'm about to die, but I refuse to die with sweet words on my tongue. If we're going out, let's do it roaring."

Behind them, the King of Death loomed closer, his chilling voice cutting through the air like a blade.

"You have nowhere left to run. Give me the child, and I will grant you mercy. Resist, and I will crush you like insects."

Kaelion tightened his grip on the emerald spear, his knuckles whitening with tension.

"Vel, you hear that? He thinks he can scare us."

Velstarion snorted, smoke curling from his nostrils.

"He talks too much for someone who doesn't know when to shut up."

Kaelion smirked, though his heart was heavy. He pulled the golden cloak from around Vildred and wrapped the baby tightly in it. Ancient words spilled from his lips, igniting glowing runes along the fabric. Suddenly, luminous wings sprouted from the cloak, shimmering with an ethereal brilliance.

Kaelion leaned close to the baby, his voice breaking.

"You are Windborne. Carry our hopes."

The wings beat once, twice, and in a flash of radiant light, Vildred disappeared, carried far from the chaos.

Velstarion sighed deeply.

"Well, he's gone. So… what now?"

Kaelion shrugged, a bittersweet smile on his face.

"Now we die. But we do it with style."

Velstarion roared with laughter, the sound echoing through the broken skies.

"Finally, something sensible out of you! Get ready, Kaelion. Show me that spear isn't just for show."

The battle erupted like a thunderclap. Velstarion unleashed torrents of black fire, twisting and diving to evade the King of Death's attacks. Kaelion struck with the precision of a seasoned warrior, his emerald spear carving arcs of light through the darkness.

The King of Death screamed in rage as one of his wings was torn away by Velstarion's claws, sending him spiraling briefly before regaining balance. But even wounded, the King of Death was too powerful. A storm of dark energy rained down upon them, relentless and devastating.

Velstarion faltered, his wings battered and torn. In his final moments, the dragon wrapped his massive wings around Kaelion to shield him from the onslaught.

"Kaelion… thank you for this journey," the dragon rumbled, his voice soft but resolute.

Kaelion placed a trembling hand on Velstarion's scales, his eyes glistening with gratitude.

"No, my friend. Thank you."

As the darkness consumed them, Kaelion smiled faintly. The child was safe. Their light would endure.