THE DRAGONFORGE HEIR: A BLOODLINE OF FIRE AND RUIN

Chapter 3: The Oath breaker’s Blade

Dain coughed, dust filling his lungs as he rolled to his feet. The chamber was ruined, its walls cracked, its altar shattered. Serra lay a few feet away, her armor scorched, her sword extinguished.

The gauntlet’s runes pulsed, its light casting long shadows on the broken stone. Dain’s arm ached, the mark burning like a brand. He could still hear the voice, the Wyrm’s voice, whispering in his skull.

"Heir…"

Serra pushed herself up, her breath ragged. "You hit like a blacksmith."

Dain didn’t laugh. "You tried to kill me."

"I should have killed you." She wiped blood from her lip. "But the Order lies. And I’m done being their blade."

Dain studied her. "Why?"

Serra’s grip tightened on her sword. "Because I saw your face when the mountain roared. And I saw his."

"Who?"

"The Wyrm." She met his gaze. "It’s not what they say. It’s not just a beast. It’s bound."

Dain’s skin prickled. "Bound to what?"

"You."

The chamber trembled again. The mural’s dragon screamed, its stone form peeling away from the wall.

Serra cursed. "We need to move."

Dain didn’t argue. He turned toward the tunnel.

A figure stepped from the shadows.

Veyla.

Their face was pale, their sickle dripping with black blood. "Ah. The Heir and the Oathbreaker. How… touching."

Serra’s sword ignited. "You."

Veyla’s smile was a knife. "Me."

Dain raised the hammer. "You’re not taking me."

"Oh, Dain." Veyla’s voice was a purr. "I’m not here for you."

Serra’s eyes widened. "Then who?"

Veyla moved.

Her sickle flashed, slicing toward Serra’s throat.

Dain reacted.

The hammer connected with Veyla’s ribs. They hissed, stumbling back, but their sickle still grazed Serra’s cheek. She cried out, pressing a hand to the wound.

Veyla laughed, blood dribbling from their lip. "Strong. But stupid."

Dain didn’t wait. He swung again.

Veyla blocked, their sickle meeting the hammer in a shower of sparks. "You don’t understand what you are, boy. The blood in your veins isn’t just a mark. It’s a key."

"I don’t care," Dain snarled.

"You will." Veyla’s good eye locked onto his. "When the Wyrm rises, you’ll beg to understand."

The chamber shuddered. The mural’s dragon roared, its stone form crumbling.

Veyla’s smile faded. "It’s time."

The altars in the chamber exploded.

Stone shrapnel filled the air as the Voidspawn burst from the ground, a monstrosity of shadow and bone, its body a writhing mass of tendrils, its maw a pit of endless dark. Its gaze locked onto Dain.

"Heir…" it whispered.

The gauntlet burned. Dain gritted his teeth as the pain seared through him. The runes spread, crawling up his arm like living fire.

"Dain!" Serra shouted.

He didn’t hear her.

The Voidspawn lunged.

Dain swung.

The hammer connected with the creature’s claw. The impact sent a shockwave through the chamber. The Voidspawn screamed, its form unraveling like smoke.

But the gauntlet’s power didn’t stop.

The runes spread, covering Dain’s chest, his neck. His eyes burned. The world turned to fire and shadow.

"NO!" Serra’s voice was distant, muffled.

Dain collapsed, gasping. The Voidspawn was gone, consumed by the gauntlet’s light. But the damage was done.

When his vision cleared, Serra was on the ground, her armor cracked, her sword extinguished. Veyla stood over her, sickle pressed to her throat.

"Drop the hammer, Heir," Veyla said. "Or she dies."

Dain’s grip tightened. "You want me? Come take me."

Veyla’s smile widened. "Oh, Dain. I already have."

The sickle flashed.

Blood sprayed across the stone.

Dain’s world shattered.

He didn’t remember moving. Didn’t remember swinging the hammer. But Veyla was on the ground, her sickle shattered, her chest caved in. She coughed, black blood dribbling from her lips.

"Foolish… boy…" she gasped. "You don’t… understand…"

Serra pushed herself up, hand pressed to a gash on her cheek. "Dain."

"I didn’t.." His voice broke. "I didn’t mean to."

Veyla’s laughter was wet, broken. "You think this changes anything? The Wyrm is coming. And when it does, your blood will be its key."

The cavern trembled again. The mural’s dragon roared, its stone form peeling away from the wall.

"Run," Veyla choked. "Both of you. RUN."

Dain didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Serra’s arm and pulled her toward the tunnel. Behind them, the cavern collapsed, the Voidspawn’s screams swallowed by the dark.

They didn’t stop until they burst into the open air.

The village was gone.

In its place was a chasm, a wound in the earth, lava bubbling at its edges. The sky above Mount Vorthas was a vortex of storm clouds, lightning cracking like whips. And at the mountain’s peak, two glowing eyes opened.

The Eclipse Wyrm was awake.

Serra collapsed against a boulder, her breath ragged. "We can’t stay here."

Dain didn’t answer. His hands were still shaking. The gauntlet’s runes had spread, now covering his entire arm. His skin felt too tight, his bones too hot.

"Dain." Serra’s voice was sharp. "Look at me."

He couldn’t. "I killed her."

"She was going to kill us," Serra snapped. "And she wasn’t wrong. The Wyrm is coming. And if we don’t move, we’re dead."

Dain finally met her gaze. "Where do we go?"

Serra wiped blood from her lip. "Sol’Kareth. The Phoenix’s Nest."

"Why?"

"Because," she said, "the Embercore is the only thing that can hold back the dark. And you’re the only one who can forge it."

Dain looked back at the chasm. At the eyes watching them from the mountain.

"What if I can’t?"

Serra grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face her. "Then we burn with the rest of the world."

A horn blared in the distance.

The Order.

Serra cursed. "We’re out of time."

Dain clenched the hammer. The gauntlet’s pulse was steady now. Waiting.

He turned toward the horizon, where the first light of dawn was being swallowed by storm clouds.

"Lead the way."