C3 The Part to Skyrend

The morning after the attack felt wrong.

The sun rose as it always had, casting gold across the rooftops of Ashvale, yet the village no longer felt familiar to Kael.

He stood outside the forge, watching smoke curl into the pale sky.

Normally, the scent of burning coal brought him comfort.

Today it reminded him of dragonfire.

Of golden eyes.

Of a voice that should not have existed.

“Find the mountain called Skyrend.”

The words had haunted him all night.

“You’re distracted.”

Kael nearly jumped.

His father stood beside the forge entrance, arms crossed.

“I said your name three times.”

“Sorry.”

The blacksmith studied him.

The lines on his weathered face seemed deeper than usual.

“You didn’t sleep.”

Kael looked away.

“No.”

“I figured.”

For a moment neither spoke.

The clang of hammers echoed from neighboring workshops.

Life was returning to normal.

Or pretending to.

His father finally sighed.

“Still thinking about the dragon?”

Kael hesitated.

Then nodded.

The blacksmith rubbed his beard.

“When I was your age, I saw my first dragon too.”

Kael blinked.

“You did?”

“A long way from here.”

His father stared toward the mountains.

“Scared me half to death.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

A faint smile appeared.

“It flew away.”

Kael frowned.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

The smile faded.

“Sometimes fear makes us imagine things.”

Kael stiffened.

“You think I imagined it.”

His father didn’t answer immediately.

“I think something frightened you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The blacksmith’s gaze softened.

“No.”

The answer surprised him.

“I don’t think you’re lying.”

Kael stared.

“Then you believe me?”

His father shook his head slowly.

“I believe you think you heard something.”

It wasn’t the same thing.

They both knew it.

⸻

The village healer’s bell rang shortly before noon.

A traveler had arrived.

Such events were rare enough to attract half the village.

Curious, Kael made his way toward the square.

A crowd had gathered around a horse-drawn wagon.

The traveler was a woman.

Young.

Perhaps eighteen or nineteen.

She wore a dark blue cloak covered in road dust.

A leather satchel hung from one shoulder.

Several scroll cases were strapped to her back.

Not a merchant.

Not a soldier.

A scholar.

The village elder approached her.

“Welcome to Ashvale.”

The traveler nodded politely.

“My name is Seraphine.”

Her voice carried confidence.

“I seek information.”

A collective groan spread through the crowd.

Travelers usually sought food, lodging, or trade.

Never information.

“What sort?” the elder asked.

Seraphine opened her satchel.

Several old papers emerged.

Covered in maps and symbols.

“I am searching for records concerning dragon sightings.”

The square fell silent.

Kael’s pulse quickened.

“What business does a scholar have with dragons?” someone muttered.

Seraphine ignored the question.

“Three dragons were reported in this region yesterday.”

The villagers exchanged uneasy glances.

News traveled quickly.

But not that quickly.

“How do you know?” another asked.

The scholar rolled up her map.

“Because I have been tracking them.”

That answer raised more questions than it solved.

Kael stepped closer.

Seraphine’s eyes moved across the crowd.

Sharp.

Observant.

Then they stopped on him.

For some reason, she frowned.

Almost as if she recognized him.

Impossible.

They had never met.

“You’re the blacksmith’s son.”

Kael blinked.

“How do you know that?”

“You were standing in the square during the attack.”

His stomach tightened.

She had been here?

“No.”

The scholar shook her head.

“I arrived after.”

Her gaze narrowed.

“But people talk.”

Several villagers suddenly found other things to look at.

Kael felt heat rise in his face.

Wonderful.

The entire village knew.

“The stories say you heard a dragon speak.”

The square became very quiet.

Kael wished the ground would swallow him.

“It was a misunderstanding.”

A lie.

Seraphine’s expression remained unreadable.

Then she asked a question no one else had.

“What did it say?”

His heart skipped a beat.

Every eye in the village turned toward him.

Kael hesitated.

Something told him not to answer.

Not here.

Not in front of everyone.

“Nothing important.”

The scholar studied him.

Clearly unconvinced.

But she let it go.

For now.

⸻

That evening Kael climbed the hill overlooking the village.

It was where he went whenever he needed to think.

The wind was stronger here.

Cooler.

It carried the scent of pine forests from the mountains.

Below, Ashvale glowed with lantern light.

Peaceful.

Small.

Safe.

The life he had always known.

Footsteps approached.

Kael didn’t turn around.

“You followed me.”

Seraphine sat on a nearby rock.

“I did.”

The honesty caught him off guard.

For several moments they watched the sunset in silence.

Then she spoke.

“I don’t think you’re lying.”

Kael laughed bitterly.

“You’re the first.”

“I didn’t say I believed you.”

“That’s becoming a pattern.”

A faint smile touched her lips.

Then she reached into her satchel.

From within, she withdrew a worn leather journal.

Ancient symbols decorated the cover.

The pages looked centuries old.

“What is that?”

“A copy of a text discovered in the ruins of Val Tyr.”

She opened it carefully.

“Most historians consider it nonsense.”

“Why?”

“Because it mentions people who could speak with dragons.”

Kael froze.

The world seemed to stop.

Slowly, Seraphine turned the journal toward him.

A drawing covered the page.

A human standing beside a dragon.

Not fighting.

Talking.

Beneath the image were faded words.

“When the Dragon Speakers vanished, the bond between sky and earth was broken.”

Kael stared at the text.

His throat felt tight.

“Where did you get this?”

“An archive in the capital.”

Seraphine’s voice lowered.

“There are dozens of references like it.”

“You’re saying there were others?”

“Long ago.”

The wind stirred around them.

Neither spoke for several moments.

Finally Seraphine closed the journal.

“If you truly heard a dragon…”

She hesitated.

For the first time, uncertainty entered her voice.

“Then everything we know about history may be wrong.”

A distant roar echoed through the mountains.

Both of them stood instantly.

The sound was faint.

Far away.

Yet unmistakable.

Dragon.

Kael looked toward the Spine Peaks.

The roar came again.

This time it sounded almost like a cry for help.

Then a familiar voice brushed against the edge of his thoughts.

Weak.

Broken.

Barely audible.

Skyrend…

Kael’s blood ran cold.

The dragon had found him again.

And whatever was happening in the mountains, they were already running out of time.