Chapter Seventy: Blood of the True Dragon
The southern wall stood silent, frost clinging to the wood, Kael's breath clouding the cold night air. Before him, the elder elf leaned on her gnarled staff, eyes luminous with pale starlight. Umbra growled low, but Kael raised a hand to still the beast.
The woman bowed her head slightly. "Forgive the intrusion. My name is Selindra Vaelor, once of the Silver Bough, now only a wanderer." Her voice carried a tremor of age, yet beneath it was a strength that refused to wither.
Kael studied her, shadows curling faintly around his fingers. "Why are you here? And why now?"
Selindra's gaze softened. "Because I made a promise. To your mother."
The words struck Kael like a hammer blow. His throat tightened, the cold suddenly forgotten. "My mother?"
The elf nodded slowly. "Long before your birth, before the Hollow, before this war with overlords, I swore to her that I would come to you when the time was right. That I would tell you who she truly was—and what you are."
Kael's fists clenched. "Speak plainly. Enough riddles."
Selindra's eyes glimmered. "Your mother was no ordinary woman. She was a True Dragon—ancient, mighty, born before empires rose and fell. Not one of the lesser breeds, not a wyrm, nor a beast to be hunted and slain, but a sovereign of the dragon line itself. Her blood was power incarnate."
Kael's heart pounded. He remembered flashes—his mother's warmth, the strange fire in her eyes, the way her touch could soothe even the deepest wound. He had never understood why she seemed different, otherworldly.
Selindra stepped closer, lowering her voice. "That blood flows in you. The world would kill for it—kings, cults, guilds, even gods. Your enemies sniff at your walls not for your Hollow, but for you. For the chance to spill that blood and use it in their potions, their rituals, their perversions of magic."
Kael's shadows writhed, his fire sparking at his fingertips. "Then let them come. They'll die like the rest."
The old elf gave a sad smile. "Such fire. Such arrogance. You have your mother's spirit. But you cannot grasp the depth of what sleeps within you. Your shadows, your flames—they are only the birthright of your mortal half. With her blood, you can awaken something greater."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"
Selindra's staff thudded into the snow as she leaned close. "There is a ritual. One word to bind it, one truth to unlock it. If you undergo it, you will awaken the dragon blood in full. And with it, the power to create or destroy, to wield chaos and mana, to bend light and dark, to touch both life and death. A god's strength, in mortal flesh."
The council fires behind Kael seemed very far away. His breath grew shallow. "And if I refuse?"
Selindra shrugged. "You will remain as you are. Strong. Terrifying, even. But incomplete. Your blood will call to those who hunger for it, and one day, one may succeed in taking it from you. Only by mastering it will you be more than prey to those who hunt dragons."
Kael's jaw tightened, fire flickering in his eyes. "And this ritual… how?"
Selindra's voice dropped to a whisper, almost reverent. "It must be done beneath moonless skies, with fire and shadow intertwined, your blood willingly spilled upon the ancient sigil. The word spoken must be one of truth—your truth. Not mine, not your mother's, not the Hollow's. Only then will the blood answer, only then will it show you which of its powers you are worthy to wield."
Kael stared at her, every muscle tense. He could feel the pull of it already, as if something deep within him stirred at the sound of her words. A hunger, a promise.
Selindra straightened, staff digging into the earth. "The choice is yours, Kael of Ebon Hollow. But know this—your mother believed you would change the world. And I intend to see her promise fulfilled."
The wind howled through the trees, carrying her words into the night.
Kael stood silent, shadows shifting restlessly at his feet. His mother… a true dragon. His blood… a weapon greater than kingdoms. And now, a path laid before him, paved in fire, shadow, and temptation.
For the first time in years, fear and awe mixed inside him.