The village of Brindlemark slumbered, nestled between ancient dragon-shaped mountains that pierced the sky like shards of stone. The moon cast its silvery glow over the thatched roofs, illuminating the dreams of the sleeping villagers.

In a small cottage on the outskirts, was a girl who stood at 5'8" with a slender yet athletic build, weighing 130 pounds. Her rich, dark brown hair cascades down her back like a waterfall, with subtle waves framing her heart-shaped face. Her piercing brown eyes, almond-shaped and fringed with thick lashes, sparkle with an inner light. Porcelain-smooth skin with a subtle golden glow hints at her mixed heritage.

She stirred in her bed, her mind conjuring visions of a world aflame. Dragons soared above, their scales glinting like molten lava, and a lone figure wielded a shimmering sword that sliced through the darkness.

Eira's eyes snapped open, her heart racing like a wild stag. She sat up, gasping for air, as the dream's intensity lingered. The room was dark, except for the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window.

Thorne, her mentor and the village's revered Seer, had taught her to harness her gift - the ability to tap into the mystical forces that flowed through the land. But this dream felt different. It felt real.

Eira threw off the covers and rose from bed, her bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor. She lived with Thorne in this small cottage,

surrounded by shelves overflowing with ancient tomes and strange artifacts.

As she dressed in the darkness, Eira's mind replayed the dream. The dragons' roar still echoed in her ears, and the sword's light seemed etched into her retina. She felt an inexplicable pull, a sense that the dream was more than just a fantasy.

Downstairs, the fire crackled, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Thorne, an old man with a sturdy build, his broad shoulders and rugged features testament to his years spent exploring the unforgiving wilderness. His silver-streaked hair is cropped short, framing a weathered face with deep lines etched into his forehead and around his eyes. A well-groomed beard, flecked with threads of silver, adds to his air of wisdom.

He sat in his favorite armchair, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with slow breaths.

"Eira, child," he said, his voice low and soothing, without opening his eyes. "I sense your disturbance. Come, share your dream."

Eira settled onto the stool beside him, her hands clasped together. "I saw dragons, Thorne. And a figure with a sword. The world was burning."

Thorne's eyes snapped open, piercing the darkness. "Describe the dragons."

"They were enormous, with scales like molten lava. And the sword... it shone like the sun."

Thorne's expression turned grave. "This is no ordinary dream, Eira. The dragons' return is foretold. The balance of power shifts, and the world teeters on the brink of chaos."

He rose from his chair, his movements deliberate, and retrieved a worn leather book from the shelf. The cover creaked as he opened it, revealing yellowed pages adorned with ancient script.

"This is the Chronicle of the Ancients," Thorne said, his voice filled with reverence. "It holds secrets of the dragon slayers. Secrets that will guide you on your journey."

Eira's heart quickened as Thorne placed the book in her hands. The weight felt substantial, like the fate of the world rested within its pages.

"A prophecy speaks of this time," Thorne continued, his eyes burning with intensity:

"When dragons' wings pierce the skies,

And the chosen one's heart burns with fire,

The slayers shall rise, and the world shall decide to heed the call, or succumb to the pyre."

The words resonated deep within Eira, like a call to arms.

"Your journey begins, Eira," Thorne whispered, his eyes aglow. "The fate of our world hangs in the balance."

As Eira's fingers traced the ancient script, the room began to shake, and a faint hum filled the air. Eira's heart resonated with the call to adventure.

The darkness outside seemed less ominous, replaced by a sense of purpose. Eira stood, the Chronicle clutched to her chest, ready to face the unknown.

~A.y.

Hey guys, I'm so sorry for abandoning my novel! Life got crazy, but I'm back & ready to dive in again!

New chapters coming soon. Thanks for sticking with me! 🤭🤭

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In the opulent palace of Everia, a town nestled between rolling hills and whispering woods. Ancient stone and timber buildings lean in, sharing secrets. Lanterns glow like fireflies, casting a warm, ethereal light.

In the royal palace, guards sprinted down marble corridors, their armor clanking in unison. The air was electric with urgency as they converged upon the throne room. With a unified halt, they bowed deeply before the imposing figure seated upon the throne.

King Ryujin, a man in his late forties with a strong jawline, surveyed his guards with a mixture of curiosity and concern. His dark hair, flecked with threads of silver, was perfectly styled, and his regal attire seemed almost untouched by the chaos unfolding around him.

"What news do you bring me, Captain?" King Ryker's deep voice commanded attention, his gaze fixed intently on the lead guard.

The captain, still bowed, replied, "Your Majesty, a messenger has arrived from the village of Lynth. He bears an urgent communiqué, sealed with the mark of the Seer."

King Ryker's expression turned thoughtful, his eyes narrowing as he processed this information. "Bring the messenger before me. I would hear his words."

The guards parted, allowing a young messenger to enter the throne room. He was dressed in traveling attire, his face flushed from exhaustion. As he approached the throne, he bowed deeply, holding out the sealed communiqué.

King Ryker took the parchment, his fingers brushing against the wax seal bearing the mark of the Seer. He broke the seal and unrolled the parchment, his eyes scanning the contents. A moment passed before he began to read aloud:

"'To King Ryker, ruler of Everia, I, Thalion, Seer of Lynth, write these words in urgency. My time on this earth draws to a close, and I must ensure the continuation of our sacred lineage. A successor must be found, one who possesses the heart and vision to wield the ancient power. I implore you, Your Majesty, to seek out this individual, that our world may remain balanced and harmonious.'"

The throne room fell silent, the weight of the Seer's words settling upon the assembly. King Ryker's expression turned contemplative, his eyes clouded with concern.

King Ryker's eyes remained fixed on the parchment, his mind racing with the weight of the Seer's words. After a moment, he looked up at the messenger, his expression resolute.

"Tell me, messenger," King Ryker said, his voice firm but measured, "are you prepared to return to Lynth immediately?"

The messenger nodded, still bowing slightly. "I am, Your Majesty. I was instructed to await your response and return with all due haste."

King Ryker nodded, a plan forming in his mind. "Then go, messenger. Return to Lynth and bring Thalion, the Seer, back with you. We have much to discuss regarding the succession of the Seer's lineage."

The messenger bowed deeply, then turned to depart. King Ryker's voice stopped him.

"Wait, messenger. Inform Thalion that I propose a competition to find the new successor. The most skilled and worthy individual will be chosen to inherit the Seer's power and responsibilities."

The messenger's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded and bowed again. "I will deliver your message, Your Majesty."

With a final glance at the king, the messenger turned and hastened from the throne room, leaving King Ryker to contemplate the challenges ahead.

Eira descended the stairs, her stomach growling with hunger. Thorne, already in the kitchen, handed her a small pouch containing a few silver coins.

"Time to stock up on supplies, child," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Head to the village market and purchase some fresh produce, bread, and cheese. We don't want to run out of provisions, especially with the Harvest Festival approaching."

Eira nodded, tucking the pouch into her belt. She set off towards the village, enjoying the crisp morning air and the sound of birds singing in the trees. As she walked, the thatched roofs of the village cottages came into view, smoke drifting lazily from the chimneys.

In the village market, Eira wove through the stalls, greeting the familiar faces of the villagers. She purchased a basket of fresh vegetables, a loaf of warm bread, and a wedge of creamy cheese. As she was about to leave, a voice behind her said:

"Ah, beautiful, I see you're shopping alone today."

Eira turned to face a charming 19-year-old, he stood about 6'1" with a lean, athletic build. His short, messy blond hair framed his chiseled features, while his bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement, hinting at a mischievous personality.

"Can I help you?" Eira asked, her tone neutral.

"Oh, I'm just admiring the view," the boy said, his eyes roving over her. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

Eira raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not new. And even if I was, I don't think it's any of your business."

The boy chuckled. "Feisty, I like that. My name is Kael, by the way."

Eira didn't respond, instead turning to leave. But Kael was too quick, catching up to her and blocking her path.

"Hey, don't be like that," Kael said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm just trying to make friends."

Eira's eyes narrowed. "I don't need friends like you." With that, she moved towards a vegetable seller.

Eira's eyes sparkled as she haggled with the vendor over the price of a few fresh vegetables. Just as she was about to finalize the purchase, Kael who was behind her said:

"Beautiful lady whose name is still unknown."

he said with a smirk.

"What do you want, Kael?" Eira asked, her tone neutral.

"Oh, I just wanted to share the news," Kael said, puffing out his chest. "I've joined the Raiders' Guild. I'm going to be a famous dragon hunter, just like my father."

Eira raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations, I suppose."

Kael chuckled. "Thanks, beautiful. But I'm sure you're just thrilled to hear that someone as talented and brave as me is going to be protecting this village."

Eira's eyes narrowed. "I suppose the village is grateful for your... enthusiasm."

Kael's grin widened. "I'm also sure you've never met someone as strong and powerful as me."

Eira raised an eyebrow. "I've met Thorne."

Kael's expression changed, and he snorted. "Thorne? Ha! I've heard of him. He's that old, crippled Seer who thinks he's still relevant."

Eira's face darkened. "He's not crippled and He's more relevant than you'll ever be."

Kael sneered. "Oh, I'm shaking in my boots. Thorne, the great warrior, who got himself crippled and now hides behind his 'prophecies'."

Eira's eyes flashed with anger. With a swift motion, she punched Kael in the face, her fist connecting with a satisfying crunch. Kael stumbled back, clutching his nose.

"Ow! What was that for?" he demanded, his eyes watering.

Eira's smile was icy. "Just a warning. Don't bother me or my mentor again."

As she walked away, Kael's voice called out after her. "This isn't the last you've seen of me, beautiful!"

~A.y.

I don't know about everyone... But this chapter seems a little childish to me 🤣

Although my sister said it was okay.

But what do you guys think.

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Before I go... A friend of mine showed me a picture and I wanna share it with you guys

Peace out ✌️