"Join us," Alex said without hesitation, his voice steady despite the thunder in his chest.
The dragon blinked, clearly taken aback. Her gleaming golden eyes narrowed as she stared at him, puzzled and intrigued. "Join you? For what, exactly?" she asked, her voice as vast and ancient as the mountains themselves.
Alex summoned every ounce of courage in his body. He knew they couldn't defeat her—at least not in battle. But perhaps, just perhaps, they could win her over another way.
"In our fight," he said firmly. "The world is going to open up again. When that happens, beings from different realms will return. Some will come to conquer, others to destroy. But you've done it before—fought for this world with everything you had. I saw it... in your memory. I know you can still do it."
The dragon was silent for a moment. Then she laughed.
It started low, like a quiet rumble in the cave floor. But it rose fast—into a booming, thunderous roar of laughter that shook the very stones. The air turned heavy, vibrating with the sheer force of her mirth.
Alex braced himself, but Callum and Trisha weren't so lucky.
"Alex, what did you do?" Callum yelled, clutching his head as he dropped behind a boulder, tears streaming from his eyes. "I thought you were negotiating! Why is she trying to kill us with laughter now?!"
"Stop! Please!" Trisha screamed from the ground, curled up in pain. "You're killing us! Just stop laughing!"
The dragon's massive head tilted downward. She blinked, as if just realizing the impact she was causing. "Oh, my apologies," she said, not sounding particularly sorry. "I forgot how fragile humans are. It's just... I haven't laughed that hard in ten millennia."
Alex, still kneeling, waited until the echoes died out. He slowly stood, brushing off the dust from his clothes and ignoring the trembling in his legs.
"I'm glad you're entertained," he said carefully. "But—what exactly was so funny?"
The dragon looked at him for a moment longer. Then, without answering, she stepped back. Her eyes began to glow as she raised her wings and uttered a chant in a language that hurt their ears just to hear. Light exploded from her body—bright, golden, and blinding.
Alex shielded his eyes, stepping in front of Callum and Trisha out of instinct. For a moment, he thought she had changed her mind and was about to obliterate them all.
But when the light faded, the dragon was gone.
Standing in her place was a tall woman—regal and graceful, dressed in a flowing golden robe that shimmered like dragon scales. Her hair was long and radiant, the color of sunlight. Her eyes burned a deep crimson, wise and old, but strangely youthful. She walked toward them with poise, each step elegant, her golden heels clicking softly on the cave floor.
The three companions were dumbfounded.
"Let me introduce myself," she said, her voice now smooth and enchanting. "I am called Andromache... or at least, that is the name the humans gave me long ago. My true name cannot be spoken by mortal tongues."
She smiled, and for a second, she didn't look like a fearsome dragon at all—but more like a queen.
"I am considered royalty among my kind. My world is far from this one, across stars and dimensions. We came to this world a hundred millennia ago, not to conquer, but to teach, to guide. At first, it was fulfilling. We watched the races of this world grow—elves, humans, Syreans, Reznari. Many resisted us and feared us, but others welcomed our wisdom. They thrived."
Andromache turned toward Alex, her gaze unwavering. "But everything changed when the war began—not the one between kingdoms, but among the very beings we once raised up. The powerful races we taught—humans, elves, dwarves, Syreans, Reznari, and others—they flourished under our guidance. Some even became like gods. But power, when unchecked, breeds arrogance. And arrogance… breeds ruin."
Her expression darkened. "Over time, those who learned from us... surpassed us. They grew prideful and power-hungry. They took the knowledge we gave freely and twisted it into weapons and lies. They turned against one another and against us. Wars broke out—endless, devastating wars. And in the end, they came for us, too."
She paused, her voice tightening with sorrow.
"They turned on each other. Brother against brother. Kingdom against kingdom. Former allies became enemies. Even those closest to me—those I called family—chose sides. It was not a war for land or resources. It was a war of pride, vengeance, and betrayal. Entire civilizations vanished in that fire. Mountains fell. Seas dried. The sky wept ash."
Alex felt a chill run down his spine.
She paused, her hands folding before her.
"My kind withdrew. We disappeared into the forgotten corners of the world, into caves and sanctuaries, leaving behind only those who could not abandon the ones they loved. I chose to stay with the elves of this forest. They were pure and loyal, and in return, I protected them."
"I fought," Andromache said, lifting her eyes to the distant ceiling of the cave as if seeing something far older than the stone above. "I led the charge against the corrupted ones. I lost comrades—beasts, elves, humans, creatures whose names no longer exist in this era. And though we won in the end, the cost was everything. Our world was shattered. And just when we thought the fighting had ended…"
She took a breath.
"...the Dome appeared."
Alex's brow furrowed. "So it wasn't caused by the war?"
Andromache shook her head slowly. "No. It came after. It was not made by any of us, nor any god we knew. It sealed what was left of this broken world. It locked away entire continents and reshaped time and space. Some say it was a mercy. Others… a punishment."
She looked down at her own golden hand, flexing her fingers with a quiet grace.
"I do not know who created it, but after the Dome's arrival, we—the surviving ancients—could no longer cross dimensions. We were trapped. My kind faded, hidden in the deepest corners of the earth. Most gave up. Some went mad. I stayed… because I had nowhere else to go."
Her gaze locked back onto Alex, sharp once more.
"For centuries, I waited. I patrolled the borders, hoping to hear news. But no one returned. Not a single one. Eventually, I slept—too angry, too tired to watch a world I once loved fall further into ruin."
Alex said nothing. Neither did Trisha nor Callum. The cave was silent, except for the quiet echo of wind from outside.
"So you see, young druid… I did not sleep because I was tired of protecting this world. I slept because I had lost faith in it."
There was a long silence.
Andromache finally tilted her head. "You asked me to join you, but why should I? Why should I risk myself again for humans or elves who have already broken everything they once built?"
Alex met her gaze. "Because it's not over. Because it can still be saved. I don't know everything. I'm not perfect. But I know this—evil is coming. And we can't stop it without help. Your help."
"And what," she asked softly, "are you offering for my service?"
Alex hesitated. For a moment, he had no idea what to say. What could a dragon—no, a being like her—possibly want?
He glanced at Trisha, who was still lying weakly on her side. Callum was now sitting up, quietly watching. They were all exhausted, wounded, and still alive only because she let them be.
"I can't offer you riches," Alex said. "Or power. You already have both. But I can offer you... purpose. A reason to fight again. A chance to protect the innocent, like you once did. And maybe... maybe even redemption—for all of us."
Andromache's red eyes shimmered. "You speak like a hero, Druid. Are you one?"
Then she smiled—not cruelly this time, but with a strange fondness.
"You're asking me to believe again, to rise and fight once more, and perhaps… to trust that this time, history will not repeat itself."
Alex met her eyes, his voice steady. "I can't promise that it won't, but I can promise we'll try everything to prevent it."
Andromache let out a soft laugh. "Then you are already wiser than those who came before you."
"Perhaps I misjudged you," she said. "You're young, foolish, and reckless, but there's sincerity in your words."
She looked past him at Trisha and Callum. "And loyalty in your friends."
Then she turned her eyes skyward—through the jagged mouth of the cave, toward the distant stars. Her expression hardened.
"Very well," she said at last. "I will consider your offer."
Alex blinked. "Consider?"
She turned slowly, golden robes trailing behind her like molten silk. "I'll need time to consider your offer. I've already spent lifetimes watching mortals burn the world. But perhaps... this time will be different."
Alex exhaled deeply.
"I'm not joining you blindly," she said. "But I will not eat you. For now, you are under my protection. And when the world opens again... if you prove yourselves worthy—I will fight by your side."
Alex exhaled, relief flooding his body. He nodded. "That's all I can ask."
As she walked deeper into the cave, her voice echoed once more, elegant and powerful.
"For now, you may leave in peace. Rest. Train. Become stronger. And when the time comes… if you still believe in your cause—call for me."