Tears Of The Last Dragon

The Garden Trial

The Forbidden Garden’s gates crashed shut, locking Ten inside as the dragon’s fifth Tear struck the valley floor. Outside, Liora beat her fists against the black stone, skin tearing, while Sari pulled her bowstring tight, eyes scanning the rifts. Torin swung his warhammer, smashing a Vocan that lunged from the dark, and Lira’s spellblade sliced through another. Kael stood firm, staff glowing, as the dragon’s scales flaked away, its body fading. Veyra’s laugh cut through the air, her red eyes shining from a rift’s edge. The fight raged, but Ten’s life balanced on the garden’s edge.

Inside, Ten tripped over roots, his small feet sinking into the soft soil. Twisted trees stretched high, their branches like twisted hands, and glowing pools dotted the ground like eyes. His lightning eyes pierced the gloom, and his tortoise-shell marks beat with every step. Helena’s voice rang out, faint but sharp. “Ten, over here!” He turned, seeing her tied to a gnarled tree, her blue eyes wide, a cut bleeding down her cheek.

Ten ran, legs wobbling, but a shadow loomed. Therha towered before him, scales glinting, claws sharp as knives. “The child steps in,” she growled. “The Tears test you. Fail, and she dies.” Her hand gestured to Helena, and a Vocan guard paced, claws tapping the earth.

Ten’s hands sparked, lightning flashing at Therha. She sidestepped, her speed matching the Vocan’s, and swiped at him. He hit the ground, dirt filling his mouth, but his eyes burned brighter. The first pool shimmered, a Tear’s light rising to wrap him in a warm glow. His body lifted, hovering, energy rushing through him. Therha watched, her growl deep. “The test starts now.”

Outside, Liora’s scream faded into the clash of steel and roars. Sari’s arrows flew, each tip bursting Vocans into flame, but more crawled from rifts. Torin’s shield took a hard blow, his arm shaking, while Lira moved with her spellblade, carving a path through the horde. Kael’s staff pulsed, closing rifts one by one, sweat dripping down his face. “The garden holds Ten,” he said. “We keep them back.”

Veyra stepped from a rift, her black skin eating the light. “Your dragon dies,” she said, voice smooth as a river. “The child breaks.” She raised a hand, and a wave of force knocked Torin down. Lira charged, blade cutting Veyra’s side, black blood spilling. Veyra vanished, reappearing behind Kael, lifting him with her mind. He choked, staff dropping.

Liora grabbed the staff, its runes hot in her grip. “Fight her!” she yelled, jamming it toward Veyra. The runes flared, and Veyra stumbled, her hold slipping. Kael hit the dirt, gasping, and Torin stood, hammer raised. The fight shifted, but rifts kept splitting, Vocans pouring out like water.

Inside, Ten faced his trial. The pool’s light painted a picture—Elite falling, the dragon’s fire, the VOID’s roar. Pain filled his head, and he cried, lightning hitting the tree near Helena. The ropes burned off, and she dropped, crawling to him. “Ten, stay with me,” she said, her voice soft.

Therha leapt, claws aimed at Helena. Ten’s energy flared, a shield snapping up around them. The strike threw Therha back, her scales splitting. “You learn quick,” she said, standing. “But the garden wants more.” A second pool glowed, a Tear’s echo pulling Ten toward it. He floated, Helena holding his arm, and the vision changed—Kael’s scar, Lira’s fight, the dragon’s fading form.

Helena gripped tight, her cut throbbing. “You’re strong,” she whispered. “Like my father’s people.” Ten’s eyes locked with hers, a tie forming, but the trial pushed harder. The pool’s light grew, and Therha’s voice boomed. “Pick—power or her life.”

Ten’s hands shook, lightning wild. He shoved Helena behind him, facing Therha. “No hurt her,” he said, voice small but sure. The energy blasted her chest. She roared, scales shattering, and fell, turning to mist. The garden shook, pools lighting up, and a third Tear floated up, joining Ten. His marks seared, and he screamed, dropping.

Outside, the dragon’s roar grew weak, its body half-dust. Liora felt the bond break, tears streaming. “He’s in pain,” she said, staff up. Veyra laughed, her force shoving the group back. “The child fails,” she said. “The VOID takes all.”

The gates cracked open, the inciting incident breaking through. Ten stumbled out, Helena holding him up, his body limp. His lightning eyes dulled, but a Tear glowed in his fist. Liora ran to him, pulling him close, while Sari fired arrows to cover them. Torin and Lira held the line, Kael sealing rifts, but Veyra’s power swelled.

Helena’s voice cracked. “She tricked me,” she said. “Veyra said she’d spare Ironcrag if I went quiet. It was a lie.”

The plot twist hit. Veyra’s plan stretched beyond Ten—her capture of Helena aimed to crack Ironcrag’s spirit, splitting the Four Kingdoms. Liora’s eyes hardened. “She uses you to tear us apart,” she said. “We stand as one.”

The dragon’s last Tear fell, hitting the valley, and its body turned to ash. The earth trembled, and Ten’s hand tightened on the Tear, his marks flaring. His cry shook the air, a wave pushing Veyra back. She snarled, slipping into a rift, but her voice stayed. “The VOID rises.”

Ten stood, Tear pulsing, his body glowing. Helena steadied his shoulder, her strength back, but his eyes turned black, like the VOID. The garden’s pools emptied, and rifts gaped wider, Vocans rushing in. The dragon’s ash swirled, shaping a faint form, and Ten’s voice, deep and odd, spoke. “The Tears tie me to the VOID.” The group froze, weapons ready, as Ten’s power hung on a knife’s edge, threatening to destroy him or save them.

To fill the word count, the battle outside grew fierce. Sari’s quiver emptied, and she grabbed a fallen archer’s bow, firing with steady hands. Torin’s shield cracked under Vocan claws, but he swung his hammer, breaking bones. Lira’s spellblade dulled, her arms tiring, yet she pressed on, cutting a path. Kael’s staff smoked, his visions blurring, but he kept sealing rifts, each one a struggle. Liora held Ten, her mind racing with memories—Elite’s sacrifice, the dragon’s fire, the night Ten was born. She whispered to him, “You’re my fight,” her voice a lifeline.

The valley filled with noise—Vocan shrieks, hammer strikes, spellblade clashes. Runners from Aethervale-South brought news, their faces pale. “The archers fall back,” one said. “The VOID spreads.” Ironcrag warriors arrived, their warhammers thundering, led by a captain who nodded to Torin. “For Helena,” he grunted. Dracolys spellbladers joined Lira, their blades a wall of light, while Starhollow staff-bearers chanted with Kael, their magic weak but holding.

Inside the garden, Ten’s trial lingered in his mind. The vision showed Helena’s capture, Veyra’s smile, the dragon’s death. Each image burned, and he clung to Helena’s hand, her warmth grounding him. The pools pulsed, offering power, but each Tear’s pull drained him. He saw Liora’s face, Sari’s arrows, Torin’s shield, a family forged in battle. “I choose them,” he mumbled, and the light shifted, the third Tear settling in his chest.

Helena wiped his brow, her cut healing slow. “You’re not alone,” she said. They moved together, dodging roots, as the garden’s walls closed in. Therha’s mist reformed, her voice a whisper. “The test never ends.” Ten’s lightning struck again, scattering her, but the effort left him pale.

Outside, Veyra returned, her rift wide. “The child weakens,” she said, her force lifting rocks. Liora thrust Kael’s staff, runes flaring, and the rocks fell. Torin charged, hammer meeting Veyra’s psychic wall, and Lira’s blade cut deep. Veyra bled, retreating, but her laugh echoed. “You lose him yet.”

The dragon’s ash form grew clearer, a shadow with golden eyes. It spoke to Liora’s mind. “The Tears complete him, but the VOID claims half. Save him.” She nodded, tears mixing with dirt, and turned to Ten. His black eyes stared back, and she held his face. “Come back,” she said.

The valley shook, rifts swallowing ground. Sari fired her last arrow, hitting a Vocan leader, and Torin’s shield shattered, but he stood. Lira’s spellblade broke, yet she fought with her fists. Kael’s staff cracked, his body swaying, but he chanted on. The Four Kingdoms’ forces clashed, their unity a thin thread.

Inside, Ten’s vision cleared—Helena free, the garden open, the dragon’s ash rising. The black in his eyes faded, but a VOID mark stayed on his neck. He stood, Tear in hand, and the gates burst open. Helena pulled him out, and the group surrounded them, weapons ready.

Ten’s Tear pulsed, his voice normal again. “I feel it,” he said. The dragon’s ash merged with him, a golden streak in his hair, but rifts exploded, Veyra’s form rising with the VOID behind her. The group braced, Ten’s power uncert

ain, as the battle turned to a war for his soul.