The cave was thick with the smell of smoke and earth. The dull orange light flickered across stone walls, reflecting off the rough scales of three young dragons sprawled across the floor.
Brass was the first to break the quiet, his massive head jerking toward Icaris. "You're daydreaming again. You gonna try or just sit there?"
Icaris lifted one claw and let a small flame ripple across the tip, barely bigger than a candle. "Trying. It's just... different."
Brass snorted, tail flicking irritably. "Different how? You're a fire dragon, same as me and Whisper. You think you're special or something?"
Icaris didn't answer. He knew better. The fire inside him wasn't normal — it shifted, flickering with a strange depth. It wasn't just heat or light. It twisted reality just enough to make the world bend around him sometimes, though he rarely let it show. That was a secret. His edge.
Whisper, lying nearby, rolled her eyes but didn't speak. She was quieter but sharper than Brass, like a blade hidden beneath scales.
"You're not special," Brass said with a grin. "You're just slower."
"Keep talking," Icaris said, flicking the flame higher. "Let me know how that works out."
Brass growled and shot a jet of fire at the cave wall. The scorch mark sizzled and burned bright for a moment.
Their mother's voice cut through the tension, steady and tired. "Enough noise. Focus."
The siblings turned toward her massive form. She sat with calm authority, her scales dark red with hints of gold flickering in the light.
"Your father died," she said, voice low but firm. "Killed by mages who hunt dragons for their parts—scales, blood, bones. Valuable and dangerous."
Brass's eyes narrowed. "We know that. Doesn't make it easier."
"No hiding," Whisper said, voice sharp. "We grow strong. That's all."
Icaris looked down at his claws, feeling the heat coil beneath his skin like a serpent waiting to strike. He was different. The blood inside him wasn't just dragon blood — it carried something older, something more dangerous.
He had god blood.
It wasn't a secret to him. He knew what it meant. The power to twist reality, even slightly, was a heavy burden. He kept it hidden, even from his mother and siblings. No need to make their lives harder than they already were.
Brass looked at him suspiciously. "You're quiet. What are you thinking?"
"Nothing you'd care about," Icaris said, voice low.
Whisper smiled faintly. "He's always thinking."
The fire in Icaris's chest flickered again, pulsing like a heartbeat. It was a reminder — power and danger wrapped tight together.
Their mother sighed. "Affinity is more than fire. It's how you connect to the Aether flowing through this world."
"Yeah, yeah," Brass said, tail flicking. "I'm all about raw heat. Burn 'em up quick."
Whisper flexed her claws. "I want precision. Cut through defenses like a razor."
"And me?" Icaris asked quietly.
Their mother looked at him with a hint of something unspoken. "Your fire... is yours alone. Learn it. Master it."
Icaris nodded, feeling the weight of those words.
The forest outside the cave whispered with life, endless and wild.
Icaris let the fire rise, just a little, feeling it stretch and twist. This was just the beginning.
A god's blood burned beneath his scales.
And he was ready to unleash it.