The darkness crashed toward us like a tidal wave-cold, thick, sentient. Otherys braced beside me, blade held steady, but I raised my hand, stopping him.
Steel could not cut what was not flesh.
I stepped forward.
The shard of blackened flame on the altar pulsed, and the egg at my side responded in kind. For a heartbeat, the shadows hesitated-then receded, swirling into a ring around us. The cloaked guardians lowered their hands, voices echoing through the cavern.
"He accepts the trial. The flame shall judge."
The altar cracked.
From within it, a howl rose-not of pain, but fury. The shard of flame exploded into a whirlwind of obsidian embers. They gathered above the altar, swirling faster and faster, until a shape began to form-a dragon. But unlike any I had seen or read of in Valyrian lore.
It was skeletal, its body composed of blackened bone and molten fire. Its wings were tattered shadows, and its eyes burned not with life, but hunger. A remnant of K'laeragon. A piece of its hate.
The trial was clear.
To claim the third flame, I had to face the ghost of a god.
Otherys stepped forward, but I held up a hand. "This is mine alone."
He clenched his jaw. "Don't die."
I gave a grim smile. "I don't plan to."
The spirit dragon lunged.
-----
I rolled aside as its maw snapped shut where I had stood. The heat was unbearable-like standing in the path of a forge unleashed. The shadows obeyed it, coiling like serpents around its claws. I couldn't fight it with steel, nor with fire alone.
But I had more than fire now.
I drew on the first flame-the bond with the egg. I drew on the second-the visions granted by the Crown of the Deep Flame. And now, I reached for the third-the raw, consuming fury of the Star-Eater.
The air cracked.
Runes across my skin ignited with light-not carved, but burned there by the magic I had accepted. A whisper in my mind spoke a single word.
"Become."
I thrust out my hand and spoke in Valyrian:
"Vezof!" - Bind.
"Dracarys."
Flame burst forth-not just from me, but from the egg, now floating behind me, glowing with power. White-hot fire with veins of green. The Star-Eater roared, recoiling as the blast struck its form. Its shadow-wings flared wide, and it dove again, but I stood my ground.
The fire didn't stop.
It surrounded me-merged with me-and when the spirit struck, it hit not flesh, but the flame of the dragon I would one day ride.
Xyron's soul had awakened.
And together, we shattered the ghost of the Star-Eater.
-----
When the light faded, only ash remained. The guardians bowed their heads.
"Flameborn," they whispered. "Heir of Fire. Child of the Last Ember."
The third flame flowed into me-not as a weapon, but as a birthright.
And when I turned, the egg hovered at my side, its shell cracking-heat pouring from it like sunlight through broken clouds.
He was coming.
Xyron was coming.
-----
-----
TheHatchingofXyron
-----
The egg floated before me, suspended in a cocoon of fire and shadow, crackling with power.
Hairline fractures spread across its surface, glowing like veins of molten gold beneath crimson glass. The air thrummed with tension, like the breath before a storm, and the chamber-the entire mountain-seemed to hold its breath.
Otherys stepped back instinctively, shielding his face from the heat.
I did not move.
This was not fire to fear-it was fire to welcome.
A crack split the air, sharp as a thunderclap. A shard of the shell fell away, revealing something beneath-scales of dark silver, already glistening with heat. Another crack. Another piece gone. And then-
A scream.
Not a cry of pain.
A roar of birth.
The egg burst in a wave of flame and light, forcing us to shield our eyes. When it faded, he stood there-smoke rising from his sleek, massive form. Large for a hatchling, with sinewy limbs and backward-curving horns. His eyes met mine-molten gold, intelligent, ancient.
Xyron.
He stepped forward, his talons clicking against the stone, wings flexing with instinctive pride. Each step left scorched footprints. He growled low-not in threat, but recognition. Bond.
I dropped to one knee.
His snout brushed my forehead, and in that moment, I felt it-not just a presence, but a soul touching mine. Heat poured through me, not burning but reshaping, reforging. A rush of memories, not my own: vast skies, molten caverns, the scent of ash and wind.
He remembered his past life.
And he knew me.
Our bond ignited like wildfire. Not forged through words, but through fire, blood, and fate.
Otherys approached slowly. "By the gods…" he breathed. "He's… magnificent."
Xyron turned his gaze on Otherys briefly, then snorted-a puff of green-tinged smoke-and returned his gaze to me.
"We're bound now," I said quietly. "Truly."
I turned to the guardians still kneeling, eyes downcast.
"The third flame is mine," I said. "The path east lies ahead. There are still relics to recover… and truths to uncover."
They did not rise, but spoke in unison.
"Then go, Fireborne. But know this-others will feel him now. The world will know… the dragonlords have returned."
-----
That night, Xyron soared for the first time, wings slicing through the smoke-filled sky over Valyria. I watched from the cliffs, cloak snapping in the wind, heart hammering with triumph.
There was no turning back now.
Across the sea, in distant lands, the old powers would stir.
And in the darkness of the Shadow Lands, something would awaken.
Watching.
Waiting.
Burning.
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Hope you enjoyed and I'm sorry It's a bit short.