Chapter 26: Althea DragonBlood

“So, where did you two slip off to?” Reimei’s voice cut through the air as soon as we reached the front door.

She stood there with her arms folded, posture sharp, as though she had been posted like a guard waiting for our return.

“We went with Rion,” I answered plainly, “to hunt meat for the people of Lahir and Flogas.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying me longer than felt comfortable before she gave a quiet hum.

“So, you accompanied Guildmaster Rion,” Reimei said.

“Woof!” Janbo barked, breaking the weight of her gaze. His tail swayed once, slow and deliberate, as if to confirm the story in his own way.

Reimei’s lips softened into the faintest smile.

“Perfect timing. Lily’s already got a pot of Oryza simmering, and the Kelafi skewers are nearly ready.”

She didn’t wait for my response, her hand caught my wrist, tugging me inside with surprising urgency.

I tilted my head upward as we moved.

The sunlight spilling through the window frames was hot and white, telling me it was nearly midday.

The air itself carried the unmistakable tang of grilled meat, warm and heavy, a scent that made my stomach tighten with hunger.

Behind us, Janbo padded along in silence, his claws tapping softly against the floorboards.

His ears perked at every drifting wisp of smoke from the kitchen, eyes glinting with a quiet anticipation that mirrored my own.

“It’s been a while, Raki.”

The words were soft, measured, and came from the long table ahead.

Lena sat there as though she had been waiting for us all along, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Aira sat beside her, offering me a polite nod.

“You must be wondering why I’m here.” Lena’s smile was gentle, serene, almost too serene for someone whose very presence weighed down the room.

“Little Rion already told me your plan.” She glanced toward me with eyes that seemed to look past flesh and thought alike.

“Tomorrow, I’ll open a small breach in the Divine Barrier… so your group can enter Flogas.”

I opened my mouth to ask her about the white-locked tome Rion had pressed into my hands before leaving Elira, but the words caught in my throat when Lily entered, carrying a tray piled with skewers.

“Father Damian, Zid, you’re just in time,” Lily said warmly as the two stepped into the room.

They looked drained, their faces pale with fatigue but resolute.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Lena said gently, her voice carrying both grace and authority.

“Healing the wounded of Seres is no small task,” Lena added.

“Lena?” Zid blinked, taken aback, almost stumbling on his words.

“High Priestess,” Father Damian said more steadily, bowing his head in acknowledgment.

“I see you’ve arrived,” Father Damian added.

“We’ll speak of serious matters later,” Lena said, her smile never wavering.

“For now, let’s honor the meal these two young ladies have prepared for us,” Lena said looking at Lily and Reimei.

The warmth of roasted meat and fresh rice filled the room, wrapping us in a momentary peace before the storm of tomorrow.

Lily had outdone herself.

A full pot of steaming Oryza sat at the center of the table, flanked by a platter of sizzling stir-fried vegetables, another pot brimming with rich Kelafi stew, and dozens of perfectly grilled Kelafi skewers lined in neat rows, their aroma filling every corner of the room.

Uncle Hekken and Silvia arrived moments later, their weary faces softening the instant they caught sight of the feast.

The feast Lily and Reimei prepared was met with eager hands and grateful hearts.

Even Janbo received special treatment, an entire bowl heaped with roasted Kelafi meat, which he devoured with gleeful abandon, tail thumping like a drum against the floor.

Belly full and body heavy with warmth, I eventually retreated with Janbo to my room.

Just as I turned the key, I caught sight of Rion slipping into the house, his expression unreadable as ever.

Damn. I’d missed my chance to ask Lena about the locked white tome, I thought as the door clicked shut behind me.

Sleep tugged at my eyes, but curiosity won.

I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled one of the books Rion had given me, thumbing through brittle pages until a word froze me in place:

Flogas.

Spoken of in hushed reverence as the Village of Dragon Tamers.

Its tale begins at the foot of the Crimson Mountains, where the proud Red Dragons made their nests among fire and stone.

In the shadow of those peaks, Forz DragonBlood, first of his line, carved a resting place for the dragons who perished in the Great Devastation.

This hallowed ground came to be known as the Dragon’s Graveyard, and through this act of reverence, man and dragon sealed a bond rare in the annals of the world.

Yet it was Forz’s daughter, Althea DragonBlood, who would transcend the bond her father forged.

In her hands, kinship became covenant.

She bound her soul to the mighty dragon Urzuz, and thus was born the first Dragon Tamer in all of Mazal.

From that day forth, Flogas rose in stature, hailed as the Sanctum of Dragon Tamers, a citadel of strength in the Seres region.

But even bonds blessed by fire and oath cannot shield against fate.

War swept across the lands.

Crops withered, famine gnawed at the earth, and the Lizardmen to the south starved by the thousands.

Desperation turned their hunger into fury.

In a tide of claws and rage, they descended upon Flogas.

In the slaughter, Althea’s husband and son were claimed, and grief hollowed her heart.

Grief turned to vengeance.

Together, Althea and Urzuz answered in despair with flames.

They descended upon the Lizardmen settlement, their fury blazing brighter than any star.

Wooden homes were kindling, reduced in moments to char and ash.

Though scales resisted fire, the dwellings of the Lizardmen did not.

Screams rose with the smoke as kin and clan were consumed by the inferno.

Those who dared stand in defiance were met by Urzuz’s wrath, fangs and claws that tore them apart until the earth itself ran slick with blood.

But from fire’s ruin came shadows darker still. Two figures emerged from the haze of smoke, clad in dread and despair: Egor, Death Knight of Ruin, and Kerr, Death Knight of Plague.

Upon that battlefield began a clash that would echo through eternity.

Dragon flame met death’s malice, steel rang against claw, and the land trembled beneath their fury.

For half a day, their struggle raged. In the end, Urzuz’s mighty wing was torn, his body shackled to the earth.

Althea, her resolve unbroken, invoked the most perilous gift her pact had given her, Dragon Magic: DragonBlood.

It was a forbidden art, a power of dragon’s flesh and soul.

It granted strength enough to rival Urzuz himself and wounds that mended as swiftly as scale, but at a dire cost, the unraveling of one’s mind, the fraying of humanity itself.

With that dread power coursing through her, Althea struck against Kerr, the Plague Knight, while the wounded Urzuz clashed with Egor, the Ruin Knight.

Yet corruption seeped into every wound they bore, rot and ruin claiming flesh and scale alike. Their strength waned, their steps faltered.

At last, the dragon and tamer fell together, their bodies intertwined in death as they had been in life.

But their sacrifice was not for naught.

At the breaking of their strength came salvation, Rion Skyfrost, the Ice Demon.

With a presence colder than death itself, he descended upon the battlefield.

Against the weary Death Knights, his ice magic triumphed.

Their corrupted forms were shattered, their blight banished from the land.

Thus Althea and Urzuz were laid to rest within the Dragon’s Graveyard, their graves together, their names sung as heroes of Seres.

Martyrs who defied despair, who bought time with their lives so that others might endure.

And so their legend endures, etched not in stone, but in the very breath of the people and dragons who still whisper their names.

What a cruel fate, I thought, closing the tome with a heavy heart.

No wonder Rion has always kept this truth hidden from the people of Seres.

The very ones who gave their lives to protect their homeland were the same who would one day rise to destroy it.

How pitiful… I thought, shutting the book with a heavy hand. Such is the fate of the Death Knights.

In this world, a hero may die in glory, only to return reborn as a villain.

With that truth etched into my heart, I steeled my resolve.

When the time comes, I must strike down Althea and Urzuz before they destroy more of the thing they swore to protect.

Burdened with the sorrow of a tragic tale, I sank into the soft embrace of my pillow.

As my eyes drifted shut, my thoughts wandered to the countless other calamities that must have birthed the so-called Death Knights in this world.

Among them was Morgan, the Death Knight of Ruin, whom I had erased in a moment of unrestrained hatred.

Rion’s words echoed in my mind, they are the very embodiment of indifference.

The antithesis of love itself.

Beings who abandoned what they once cherished, until only emptiness remained.