Legacy of the Dragon Lord

Shira's breath came in short, sharp gasps as she ran through the dense forest, her heart pounding against her ribs. The academy was in ruins behind them, consumed by fire and overrun by creatures that should not exist in this world. Shadows slithered between the trees, whispering in tongues older than time itself. She could still hear the screams of their fellow students, the clash of steel, and the roars of demons echoing in her ears.

Elias pulled her forward, his grip firm around her wrist. "We have to keep moving! The temple isn't far!"

Shira forced her feet to move, her mind still reeling from everything that had happened. Darin and Lyra—their friends—had turned against them. No, it was worse than that. They were possessed by something ancient and malevolent, something that called itself Darkwind. The realization sent a fresh wave of nausea through her, but she swallowed it down. There was no time for fear. Only survival.

Behind them, a monstrous shriek cut through the night, followed by the sound of branches snapping. Something was closing in. Elias cursed under his breath and pulled Shira to the left, leading her down a rocky incline. They stumbled but kept going, their feet barely finding purchase on the uneven ground.

"Where are we even going?" one of the other survivors—Ronan, a fellow student—panted beside them. "We're just running!"

"We're going to the First Temple of the Dragonlord!" Elias shot back. "It's our only chance!"

Shira's stomach twisted at his words. He didn't know. None of them did. The truth of what she was—what she had always been—remained locked inside her. But now, with the academy lost and Darkwind's forces spreading, she couldn't afford to keep it hidden any longer.

They crashed through the undergrowth, bursting into a clearing bathed in silver moonlight. For a brief, fleeting moment, Shira thought they had lost their pursuers.

Then the demons emerged.

Their bodies were twisted mockeries of humans, their eyes burning with unholy fire. Clawed hands reached for them, and one of the creatures lunged—

Shira reacted on instinct.

Fire erupted from her palm, a blast of golden flames engulfing the nearest demon. It shrieked and recoiled, its flesh bubbling and blackening in an instant. The other creatures hesitated, their snarls turning into hisses of caution.

The other survivors froze, staring at her.

"Shira... what was that?" Elias asked, his voice tight with disbelief.

Shira didn't answer. There was no time.

More demons poured into the clearing, their hesitation fading as they realized their prey was cornered. Elias gritted his teeth and drew his sword. "We make our stand here! We fight!"

The others followed his lead, weapons drawn, their fear giving way to desperation.

The battle began.

Shira moved on instinct, her body reacting as if guided by something greater than herself. Flames danced at her fingertips, striking out at the creatures that dared come close. Elias fought beside her, his sword a blur of silver in the moonlight. The other survivors fought with everything they had, but for every demon they struck down, more took their place.

A deep, echoing laughter filled the clearing, and the shadows thickened. A figure emerged from the darkness, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light.

Darin.

He stood at the edge of the battlefield, his expression unreadable. Beside him, Lyra smirked, her own gaze filled with cruel amusement.

"You're all so predictable," Darin said, his voice layered with something not entirely human. "Running, fighting, clinging to hope. But it's useless. Darkwind has already won."

Shira's grip tightened on her weapon. "You're wrong."

Darin chuckled. "Am I? You don't even understand what you're up against. Darkwind is not just a force. It is the will of the Abyss itself. It has chosen us, given us power beyond anything you can imagine. And soon, it will consume everything."

Shira's blood turned to ice. "Darin, you have to fight this. You're stronger than—"

"Stronger?" His eyes flashed. "You still don't get it, do you? I chose this. Lyra did too. We saw the truth. The world you're trying to save is already doomed."

Shira shook her head. "No. That's the darkness talking. The Darin I knew would never—"

He moved faster than she expected, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Before she could react, his hand closed around her throat, lifting her off the ground with ease.

"The Darin you knew is gone." His grip tightened. "And soon, you will be too."

Pain flared in her lungs as she struggled, clawing at his arm. But as the edges of her vision darkened, something inside her stirred.

A memory.

The First Dragonlord.

A temple.

A power waiting to be claimed.

Fire surged within her, and with a burst of strength, she slammed her palm against Darin's chest. A pulse of golden energy exploded outward, forcing him to release her. Shira hit the ground, gasping for air, as Darin stumbled back, his expression twisted in pain and rage.

"That power..." he hissed. "Of course. I should have known. You're one of them."

Shira pushed herself up, her flames flaring around her. "And you're going to regret underestimating me."

Darin's eyes darkened. "We'll see about that."

The demons surged forward once more, but Shira and the others didn't hesitate. They fought with renewed vigor, knowing now what was truly at stake.

The battle wasn't over.

It had only just begun.