THE HEART OF THE STEEL DRAGON

The icy mountain wind howled outside the Steel Dragon Fortress, but inside, the silence was absolute. Valerius sat on his obsidian throne, staring at a transparent crystal that showed the gates of his domain. On it, a group of ragged figures pleaded with their golem guards.

They were the villagers who had helped Asimil and Luce. — Please...  — The creatures have destroyed our home —  begged the old village chief. —  We have nowhere to go. We only ask for shelter on your land. —

Valerius' expression was one of pure disdain. With a wave of his hand, he activated the communicator through other runes. — Weakness is not welcome at my summit — he said, his melodic voice an icy edge.  — My lands are not a hospice for the homeless. Leave. Now. —

— But, my lord...! — Valerius cut off the communication. He did not kill them, but drove them from their lands, condemning them to the outdoors of a world at war. He leaned back on his throne, his gray eyes hardened by an ancient hatred. These people... he thought. The descendants of those who took everything from me. May the Void consume them. His hatred for the people of that region ran deep, born of a generational tragedy: the murder of his younger sister at the hands of bandits from those same lands, long before he became a Star.

A distant rumble, an echo of destruction, brought him out of his thoughts. He stood up and walked to a large balcony overlooking the valley. In the distance, the village from which the refugees had come was being razed to the ground. Clouds of dark energy and the glow of corrupted spells illuminated the twilight.

At first, he felt cold satisfaction. They deserved it. But then, through a magic magnifying lens, he saw the cause. Two entities that didn't look human were directing the massacre. And he saw the children. A group of children cornered by a twisted figure weaving curses, General Vex.

The image of the terrified children was superimposed with a memory that was an open wound: his own sister, in her flowered dress, smiling. Valerius' heart, a muscle he thought atrophied, gave a painful flip. With a snarl that was half rage, half self-loathing, he leaped from the balcony. His red crystal wings sprouted from his back, and he swooped toward the village like a crimson comet.

It landed right between Vex and the children, the impact cracking the ground. — Well, well. Look what we have here — said a calm, gentlemanly voice. It was the other General, Vorlag, the Strategist.

Valerius paid no attention to him. He turned to the villagers who were still alive. — INSECTS! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!? RUN TO MY FORTRESS! NOW! — he shouted.  Confused but relieved, the villagers ran.

What the hell am I doing? thought Valerius to himself. Why am I defending them? Why did I get myself into this situation?

— A Star of the Firmament — said Vorlag, introducing himself with a nod. — An honor. I am General Vorlag. This is Vex. I'm sorry to interrupt your... act of heroism, but this village is scheduled for its purge. —

The battle began. It was an unfair 2 vs. 1. Valerius was a marvel of speed and power, his crimson claws slashing at the minions Vorlag tactically directed against him. But Vex was the real problem. Every time Valerius prepared for a devastating attack, a slowing or energy draining curse would hit him, breaking his rhythm. It was a brilliant battle, but he was losing it.

In a desperate move, he ignored the curses that consumed him and the Vorlag troops. He lunged straight for Vex.  — JUDGMENT OF THE STAR DRAGON! — he roared.

Its claws and wings merged into a single, massive projectile of draconic energy that struck Vex full force, annihilating him. But the effort, combined with the curses burning inside him, was too much. Valerius collapsed, falling to the ground. Vorlag, the strategist, seeing his fallen companion and aware of the power Valerius had just unleashed, made the tactical decision to retreat.

Valerius awoke slowly in the softness of his own bed. A few villagers, those who had refused to escape, were at his side. — We... brought him, my lord — said the old man, trembling.

— I TOLD YOU TO RUN AWAY, NOT PLAY HERO! I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP! — he shouted, his arrogance a reflex. Then, his voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper — ...but thank you. —

The villagers looked at him, surprised. — As a reward for their insolence — he continued, his tone again haughty, — they will have to serve me and praise me as the savior I am. But in return, I will give them asylum and food in my fortress until all this passes. —

The villagers, weeping with gratitude, accepted. At that moment, a little girl, with the same white hair she remembered from her sister, shyly approached and offered her a small wildflower that had survived the destruction.

Valerius took it. The image of his sister, putting a similar flower in his hair so many years ago, came back to him with painful clarity. And for the first time in decades, the Steel Dragon, the arrogant narcissist he had always been, smiled a faint, genuine smile.