CHAPTER 1 – Neftahar, the Land of Quiet Legends
Neftahar was a realm shaped by stories—some whispered gently, others carved into stone with trembling hands. From the northern frost valleys to the southern emerald coasts, every region carried its own myths, yet all shared one undeniable truth: the world was built atop ancient scars left by creatures far older than mankind.
Centuries ago, the land teetered constantly between peace and ruin, for dragons ruled both the sky and the earth. They were not mindless beasts, but sovereigns—creatures of immense power, bound to no mortal law. Among them, the Black Dragon Velderina was said to be unmatched, the last remnant of primeval chaos. Her shadow alone was enough to halt wars and silence rebellions.
But her disappearance ended the Dragon Era. And with it came a new age.
Now, Neftahar thrived under the rule of the Ardent Dynasty, whose ancestors forged pacts with the few dragons willing to coexist. Those pacts birthed Elemental Houses, noble families aligned to fire, water, wind, or earth—each bearing slight marks of their affinity. Some possessed heightened senses, others minor elemental talents, but none compared to the true power dragons once commanded.
At the heart of the kingdom stood Aurelia, the capital. Gilded towers, shimmering bridges over crystal lakes, and sprawling markets filled its vibrant layers. Merchants sold everything from enchanted glass to memory-threaded jewelry. Adventurers congregated in taverns illuminated by soft blue lanterns—the kingdom's invention of star-fire crystals, glowing with bottled starlight.
Yet for all its elegance, Neftahar was not entirely at peace.
Far beyond Aurelia's walls, the old world stirred. Strange tremors shook the Obsidian Range, the mountain stretch rumored to house forgotten dragon lairs. Storms formed without warning in regions that had been calm for decades. Travelers returned from the Hollow Wilds with tales of blackened trees and scorched earth—signs eerily similar to the stories from centuries past.
Priests of the Celestial Order whispered that the heavens had shifted. Scholars argued that ancient magic—long believed dormant—was awakening again. And through all of Neftahar's bustling peace, a silent dread threaded itself through conversations, like a hush before a storm.
Still, life continued.
Children learned ballads about heroic dragon slayers. Artisans crafted miniatures of the mythical beasts for tourists. And in the grand halls of the Ardent Palace, preparations were underway for a celebration said to unify the kingdom: the engagement of Lord Kael Ardent.
No one suspected that the greatest legend of their world walked among them again, not as a beast, but as a woman with a heartbeat far gentler than the monster they feared.
Neftahar had forgotten its past.
But the past had never forgotten Neftahar.
And as winds shifted over the mountains, carrying a faint, ancient rumble, the land braced itself—unaware that the first echo of a sleeping storm had already begun.
[CHAPTER ENDS]