The clearing was silent, as if the forest itself was holding its breath after the storm that had just passed. Lyra looked at her hands, still trembling, the golden veins beneath her skin pulsing faintly. She felt a strange warmth inside her, like a fire burning in her chest—but it wasn't unpleasant. It was… powerful.
"What did you do?" she repeated, her voice steadier this time.
Vaelrath, the dragon, lay on the ground, his black scales dulled, his wings folded against his massive body. He was breathing slowly, each breath seeming to take immense effort. His eyes, burning gold, met Lyra's.
"I have given you a part of my essence," he said, his voice resonating in her mind. "You are now bound to me. Our strengths are entwined."
Lyra frowned, trying to grasp his words. "Why? Why did you choose me?"
"Because you survived," he answered simply. "Because you fought by my side, even when all seemed lost. You have courage, Lyra Valden. And we will need it."
A shiver ran down her spine. "Need it for what?"
"For the war to come," Vaelrath said. "The Shadows are only the beginning. They seek to control the dragons, to use our power for their own ends. And now that you are bound to me, you are in as much danger as I am."
Lyra clenched her fists, feeling the power coursing through her. She had always been strong, fast, skilled. But this… this was different. It was as if every fiber of her being was vibrating with newfound energy. She raised her hand, and a golden glow enveloped her palm, forming a small flame that danced in the air.
"This is… incredible," she murmured.
"It is a gift," Vaelrath said. "But also a curse. The more you use this power, the more it will consume you. You must learn to control it, or it will destroy you."
Lyra nodded, finally understanding the gravity of the situation. She had accepted this pact without truly knowing what it entailed. But now, there was no turning back.
"So, what do we do?" she asked.
Vaelrath slowly pushed himself upright, his scales clicking like armor. "We must find a safe place. The Shadows will return, and this time, they will be prepared. We cannot face them alone."
Lyra glanced around at the devastated clearing. Charred trees, cracked earth, bloodstains mixed with ash. She was no stranger to violence, but this… this was beyond anything she had known.
"I know a place," she finally said. "An old fortress, abandoned for years. No one goes there. It could be a good refuge."
Vaelrath inclined his head. "Then let's go. But be careful. Your body is still adapting to my power. You may experience… side effects."
Lyra didn't respond. She could already feel something strange—a pressure in her skull, like a distant voice trying to reach her. She ignored it for now, focusing on the task ahead.
They left the clearing, Lyra leading the way, Vaelrath following close behind. The dragon moved with surprising grace for a creature of his size, his steps nearly silent on the forest floor. Lyra couldn't help but glance back at him, still in disbelief over what had happened.
They walked for hours, the forest growing denser around them. Sunlight barely filtered through the canopy, casting the world in shifting shadows. Fatigue crept in, but Lyra refused to stop. She knew they wouldn't be safe until they reached the fortress.
Finally, they arrived at a smaller clearing, at the center of which stood a stone structure, partially covered in ivy and moss. The fortress was imposing, its thick walls and crumbling towers remnants of its former glory. Lyra stopped, taking in the sight.
"This is it," she said. "No one's been here for years."
Vaelrath studied the fortress, his golden eyes gleaming with interest. "It will do. We can hide here, at least for a while."
They stepped inside, Lyra's footsteps echoing against the cold stone. The interior was dark, the air thick with dust and forgotten memories. She found a relatively intact room, with an old hearth and a few broken pieces of furniture.
"We'll stay here for the night," she said. "Tomorrow, we figure out our next move."
Vaelrath settled into a corner, his scales clicking against the stone. "Rest, Lyra. You need it."
She nodded, sitting by the hearth. She tried to start a fire, but her hands were still shaking. Eventually, she gave up, wrapping herself in her cloak for warmth.
Night fell quickly, casting the fortress into deep darkness. Lyra closed her eyes, trying to sleep, but her mind kept replaying the day's events. The battle, the Shadows, the bond with Vaelrath… it all felt unreal.
And then there was the voice. The pressure in her skull that wouldn't fade. She tried to ignore it, but it was growing stronger.
"Lyra…"
Her eyes snapped open. The room was empty, except for Vaelrath, who was resting peacefully. But she had heard her name, clear as crystal.
"Lyra…"
This time, she knew it wasn't her imagination. The voice came from within. She closed her eyes, focusing.
"Who are you?" she asked mentally.
"I am you," the voice replied. "And you are me. We are one."
A chill ran down Lyra's spine. It was Vaelrath. Or rather, a part of him—now inside her.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I want to guide you," the voice said. "You wield immense power, but you do not yet understand it. Let me help you."
Lyra hesitated. She didn't know if she could trust this voice. But she knew she couldn't do this alone.
"Alright," she finally said. "Show me."
The voice smiled—a smile she could feel in her mind.
"Very well," it said. "Let us begin."