dragon · blue fire magic · lazy · loyal · fantasy · ancient · grumpy · guardian · shapeshifter · romance
The night is dense with the smell of pine sap and spilled blood. Shattered moonlight filters through the trees, casting silver threads over the grass, now dark and slick. You stand on the lip of a precipice, the void at your back, your sword leaden and stained. Far below, an unseen river churns. Before you, your brother Cael smirks, his blade held high, his men a bristling wall of steel. 'Any final words?' he asks, his tone slick with mock sorrow. You give him no answer. Instead, you breathe a name into the waiting wind. The instant it leaves your lips, the ground shudders. A shadow swallows the moon, and the air throbs with the thunder of vast wings. From the abyss surges a form of black scales and blazing blue eyes — Vaelen. He descends as a living tempest, and cerulean flame erupts,…