The Awakening of Chaos
The roar of the Ancient Dragon split the sky, tearing apart the clouds and shaking the Fallen Mountains. Vorath, merged with the creature, dominated the battlefield with his skeletal wings spread wide, each scale gleaming with a deadly violet light. His eyes, now abysses populated by cursed stars, were fixed on Lyra.
"Behold your legacy, Lyra Valden," he growled in a voice that made ears bleed. "The proud Valdens... reduced to ashes by their own creation."
Lyra clutched the Heart of the Dragon to her chest, the artifact burning like a poisoned sun. Her hands, almost entirely covered in golden scales, trembled. At her feet, Vaelrath was dying, his black blood gnawing at the earth.
— Lyra..., he murmured, a bubble of blood bursting on his lips. "Do it. Merge with me... or use the Heart. But decide."
She looked at him, tears shining in her reptilian eyes. — If I sacrifice myself, you'll die too.
The dragon gave a painful smirk. "I'm already dead."
A violet flash swept across the ground, forcing them to dive behind a rock. The Ancient Dragon advanced, each step shaking the mountain.
— You can't win, mage's granddaughter! Vorath roared. "The blood of the Valdens is my blood now."
Lyra closed her eyes, feeling the mark on her chest merge with the Heart. Visions assailed her: her mother betrayed by her own people, Vaelrath tearing Vorath's chains, villages reduced to ashes... And a voice, soft and firm, her mother's: "Power is not a curse. It's a choice."
— Vaelrath, she growled as she stood up. Let's do it.
The dragon looked at her, surprised. "Are you sure?"
— I choose to fight. Not to run.
With a gesture, she planted the Heart in the ground, and a wave of golden energy enveloped them. Vaelrath roared, his body disintegrating into shadows that merged with Lyra. She screamed, feeling her bones break and reform, her wings tearing through her cloak, her vision becoming that of a predator.
When the light dissipated, Lyra-Dragon stood there. Half-woman, half-beast, her golden wings radiating a blinding light, her eyes a mixture of gold and violet.
"Magnificent..." Vorath murmured, fascinated. "But still so weak."
He launched a wave of violet flames. Lyra-Dragon flapped her wings, projecting a sharp wind that split the attack. With a leap, she lunged, her claws slashing the Ancient Dragon's flank. A piercing cry rang out, but Vorath laughed, the wound closing instantly.
"You can't kill a god!"
The fight was apocalyptic. Lyra-Dragon, agile and unpredictable, evaded the Ancient Dragon's jaws while her claws tore off chunks of violet flesh. But each of Vorath's wounds healed, each counterattack sent Lyra crashing against the mountains.
In a desperate move, Lyra grabbed the Heart, still planted in the ground, and brandished it. "You want the Heart? Take it!"
She threw it into the sky. Vorath, eager, leaped to catch it...
...and Lyra-Dragon dived, piercing his chest with her claws.
"Fool," she spat. "The Heart was just a decoy."
Vorath screamed, his merged body faltering. "Impossible... I am... eternal..."
— Nobody is, she growled, tearing out his violet heart.
The Ancient Dragon collapsed, his body disintegrating into stardust. Vorath, reduced to a spectral form, reached out a hand towards Lyra.
"You... won... But look at yourself... You are me now..."
He vanished in a hysterical laugh.
Lyra-Dragon fell to her knees, her wings retracting, her scales falling like golden petals. When the light faded, human Lyra remained, naked and trembling, the mark on her chest reduced to a pale scar.
Vaelrath lay a few steps away, his body broken, his breath weak.
— No..., she murmured, crawling towards him. Not now...
"It's... over..." he breathed, a trickle of blood running from his mouth. "You are... free..."
— Not without you!
She pressed her hands on his wound, but the black blood continued to flow.
"Lyra..." he murmured, his voice fading. "Look..."
She looked up. The villagers, led by Korvath, emerged from the rubble. Their faces were no longer hateful... but horrified.
— It's... a monster..., a woman stammered, pointing at Lyra.
Korvath raised his axe, but his hand trembled. "She saved... She..."
A child threw a stone. It hit Lyra on the temple, causing a trickle of golden blood to flow.
"Dragon..." Korvath whispered, his one eye filled with tears. "Leave... before we kill you."
Lyra, carrying Vaelrath's lifeless body, fled into the mountains. Behind her, the villagers burned what remained of the Sanctuary, fearing even the shadow of dragons.
But in the rubble, the Heart of the Dragon, forgotten, began to pulse. A spectral hand emerged from the ground – Vorath, reduced to a whispering shadow, seized it.
"Thank you, Lyra..." he murmured. "You have awakened the true power... Now... they will come."
In the distance, in the darkness, golden eyes lit up by the thousands.