It was on the eve of the Crestmoon Festival, a sacred elven celebration where nobles honored the dragon lords of old, that Raezion was summoned to the ceremonial garden of ancestors.
The sky shimmered with aurora lights. Noble houses wore silver robes, singing songs in Draconic tongue. The scent of lilac and molten incense filled the air.
King Aelorys knelt beside a golden altar. Upon it rested a single, smooth, obsidian-scaled egg—its surface veined with faint crimson lines that pulsed slowly, like a slumbering heart.
"My son," the king said, lifting the egg with reverence and handing it to Raezion. "This is your birthright. A dragon egg descended from the line of Val'Karthys—the Crimson Sovereign. None have bonded with it in a thousand years."
Raezion blinked once. Then twice. He did not ask why the king offered him the impossible. He simply took the egg into his arms.
Warmth rushed through his veins.
But it wasn't normal warmth. It was deeper. Stranger.
Inside his soul, something stirred. A presence. A memory of an edge that cut through gods and reason alike.
Unconsciously, his fingers tightened.
For a brief second, a pulse of silver-white energy flickered from his palm—barely visible. The essence of Aeon Severance, still dormant in his soul, spilled into the world.
It touched the egg.
And the egg screamed.
Not audibly, but in spirit. Everyone felt it. The nobles gasped. A few even fell to one knee. The sky above darkened for a moment. Winds stilled.
And then—
CRACK.
The egg split down the center, glowing red from within.
"Impossible…" a high priest whispered.
With a shrill but powerful cry, a small serpentine creature burst forth, wings stretching, scales gleaming like burning rubies. Two bright, intelligent eyes opened—piercing, fierce, female.
The newborn dragon landed on Raezion's shoulder and curled around his neck, nuzzling him with surprising affection.
A perfect bond.
Unshakable. Eternal.
> "She has chosen you," the king whispered. "And not as a rider. As her equal."
The baby dragon looked up at Raezion and let out a low trill.
Raezion met her gaze. For the first time in his new life, the stoic prince smiled—barely.
"I'll call you… Draemax," he said softly.
The dragon purred in approval.
And thus, a bond was forged—not of destiny, but of severance and rebirth. The world did not know it yet, but the blade that ended gods had found a sister soul.