1: Born of Fire and Flesh
The night Kael was born, the sky burned.
Above the quiet village of Delden, stars vanished behind a veil of fire as a storm of comets raged across the heavens. Flaming streaks danced through the sky, setting the very air aglow. Villagers stood in silence, faces lit orange and gold by the heavens' fury. It was an omen, they whispered. A blessing—or a curse.
In a small hut at the edge of the woods, a young woman cried out in labor. Her name was Mira, a healer known for her calm hands and steady heart. But this night tested both.
Pain rippled through her like wildfire. As she bore down, the flames outside seemed to answer her cries. Her midwife, pale and trembling, flinched as the temperature in the room surged unnaturally. The hearth blazed higher than it should, and the very walls of the hut groaned with heat.
With a final scream, Mira brought her child into the world. And then, silence.
The infant did not cry. He stared up at them with eyes like molten gold, glowing faintly in the dim light. His skin was warm—too warm. And just below his collarbone, faint scales shimmered where no human child should bear them.
The midwife stumbled back in fear. "It's not... it's not right."
Mira pulled the child to her chest, her eyes wide not with terror, but wonder. She had known this day would come. The dreams. The voice in the flame. The night the great dragon fell from the sky and found her by the riverbank, bleeding, dying—and yet majestic beyond all comprehension.
He had been old, ancient even. A dragon lord of a dying age. His blood was molten, his breath thunder, but his voice had been soft. He had whispered to her, shared his name, his sorrow, and a seed of something else.
Hope.
"Kael," Mira murmured, brushing her fingers through the child's thick dark hair. "Your name is Kael. Flame-born, sky-touched. My son."
Outside, thunder rolled as one final comet split the sky, its tail painting a path of fire across the stars.
And so the boy born of fire and flesh entered a world not ready for him.