THE HIDDEN DRAGON

The Oracle’s Warning

"You think you’ve been chosen, Rey Soren? Chosen ones don’t get to live happy lives. They bleed until the stars decide they’ve had enough."

Elira Moonveil’s words burned deeper than any fire. They weren’t loud—but they echoed in his bones, like thunder wrapped in silk.

Rey knelt in the Tower of Echoes, the Oracle’s chamber deep beneath the Academy. The room smelled of incense, dust, and something older—something that didn’t belong to this world. Candlelight danced across ancient runes carved into the obsidian walls. Elira stood in the center, barefoot on the sigil circle, her silver hair catching the flames like starlight. Her eyes weren’t mortal. They were voids rimmed with violet fire.

"I’ve waited fifteen years to look you in the eye," she whispered.

Rey’s voice caught. “You know me?”

“I’ve seen you. In dreams. In smoke. In the shattered mirrors of time.”

She stepped closer, gaze piercing.

“You’re Rayden Drakar. The Flame Reborn. The boy who could save us… or burn us all.”

Rey flinched. He had come here to ask questions, but now his heart thundered like a war drum.

“Why me?” he asked. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No one ever does,” Elira said. “But fate isn’t a kind god. And it never forgets a promise of fire.”

Suddenly, the flames in the room flared. The runes shimmered, and Rey collapsed, clutching his chest. Pain screamed through his veins like molten lava.

"The Dragon System is unlocking," Elira said, her voice distant. “You’re seeing the truth.”

The world twisted.

Rey fell.

Through smoke. Through time. Through memory.

He landed on blackened soil. The sky above burned crimson. Screams echoed around him.

A woman stood on the battlefield, surrounded by enemies—her silver hair billowing in the wind, her blade dripping gold fire.

“Seren,” Rey whispered. “Mother...”

She turned.

Her eyes met his.

But they didn’t soften.

“Run!” she screamed, just as a monstrous winged shadow descended.

The vision exploded in fire.

Rey gasped awake in the Oracle’s chamber. His shirt was soaked in sweat, and his fingers were burned. Not from the vision. From within.

Elira knelt beside him, pressing a vial to his lips.

He drank, the bitterness grounding him.

“She tried to speak,” he murmured. “My mother. She—she looked at me like I was a ghost.”

Elira nodded. “Because in every vision, you are. You are a fragment. A shadow that hasn’t yet chosen its form.”

Rey stared at the sigils. “What do I become?”

Elira didn’t answer.

Instead, she placed a trembling hand on his chest.

“You carry a weight older than kings. The dragon within you… it remembers what you do not. And soon, the test will come.”

Rey’s breath trembled. “What test?”

“The kind that breaks heroes. And births monsters.”

The next few days passed like a blur. Rey barely ate. Barely spoke. Zayne noticed. Lyra watched. Kade mocked. But Rey was hollowed out.

He spent nights staring at his burned hands. At the flares of light that came and went in his vision. He saw things no one else did—shadows watching from walls, echoes in the halls whispering secrets. He was unraveling.

And then came the summons.

A duel.

Not training.

A real fight.

Kade challenged him publicly in the Hall of Valor, citing dishonor and pride. Rey didn’t want to accept.

But the fire inside him said otherwise.

The dueling ring was packed.

Lyra stood near the edge, arms crossed, worry hidden behind cold defiance. Zayne paced like a caged animal.

Kade stood in gleaming academy steel, grinning like a wolf.

Rey wore nothing but a threadbare tunic and the look of a boy halfway broken.

“You sure you’re ready, orphan?” Kade sneered.

Rey didn’t respond.

He didn’t feel ready.

He felt numb.

When the match began, Kade struck like lightning. Rey dodged once. Twice. But he was too slow.

The third strike hit.

Then the fourth.

The crowd gasped as Rey hit the dirt. Blood smeared his mouth. His vision blurred.

He saw Seren’s face again.

Run.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

He rose.

Again.

And again.

Kade laughed. “Stay down, peasant.”

Rey spat blood. “Make me.”

Flames crackled at his fingertips.

A mistake.

The instructors would sense it.

Kade rushed, blade high—but Rey moved. He dodged with preternatural speed, grabbed Kade’s wrist, twisted—and broke it.

Screams. Shouts.

Power flared.

Not just fire.

Something older.

A burst of draconic energy knocked everyone back. The sky darkened.

Then—

Silence.

Rey collapsed.

He woke hours later, chained in the infirmary.

Juno sat nearby, face carved in stone.

“What happened to me?” Rey croaked.

“You let go,” Juno said. “Too much. Too soon.”

“I didn’t want to. He forced it.”

“He exposed it. And now, they’ll all come sniffing.”

Rey looked away. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Juno’s voice softened. “You’ve been forged by pain, Rayden. But fire doesn’t choose. It consumes.”

That night, Rey dreamed again.

But this time, he stood before a massive obsidian gate.

Seren stood behind it.

“You have one chance, my son,” she whispered. “One path.”

He reached for her—but the gate closed. And a voice older than gods whispered:

You will lose everything before you rise.

Rey awoke screaming.

And this time—no one came to check on him.

Because he was alone.

And he was dangerous.