Chapter 25 – Daren
The safehouse was quiet, lit only by the glow of crystal lamps embedded into the stone walls. Daren sat at a broad wooden table, scrolls and codices spread before him like the fragments of a shattered puzzle. His pen scratched steadily across parchment, each word precise.
"Dragons," he murmured aloud, though no one was present to hear. "Not beasts, not gods—something in between."
He dipped the pen into ink and underlined the word sovereign. The scroll before him was an old copy, translated from tongues so ancient that even the gods claimed ignorance of their origin. He traced the faded script with his calloused finger, lips tightening.
According to the myths, dragons had walked the world long before the System. Their fire was not mana as mortals knew it, but a living essence tied directly to the world's lifeblood. That made them dangerous—too free, too unbound. When the gods rose, the Entity itself had seen fit to chain dragonkind beneath the structure of levels and restrictions.
Yet, not all chains held.
Daren leaned back, exhaling. He remembered the battles whispered in the forbidden archives: clashes where dragon flame burned through armies of angels, where the Dragon King's roar split mountains. The gods themselves had bled to bring dragonkind under control.
It was in those scars of history that the first myths of betrayal appeared. A dragon, once kin to the royal family, had turned against his own blood. The name was lost to time in the texts, scrubbed away by divine decree. But Daren knew enough to guess. The Betrayer Dragon—Nythor.
He tapped the table thoughtfully. If Nythor still lived, bound by neither king nor queen, his influence could explain certain anomalies Aric had already encountered.
A faint creak pulled him from his thoughts. Aric stood hesitantly at the edge of the room, his hand still bandaged from the spar earlier that day. His eyes flickered to the mountain of texts.
"Father," Aric said quietly, "you stayed up again."
Daren offered a tired smile. "Knowledge doesn't sleep."
Aric approached, curiosity sparking. "Dragons?"
Daren nodded, gesturing for him to sit. He pointed at an illustration across one of the scrolls—a massive serpent coiled around a mountain, its eyes gleaming with molten fire.
"Do you see this?" Daren asked. "This is how mortals once saw dragons: not monsters, but pillars of the world itself. Some say their wings beat in rhythm with the tides, their breaths formed rivers of flame and ice."
Aric leaned closer, eyes wide. "They sound… like gods."
"In a sense," Daren replied. "But unlike gods, they were not bound to worship or faith. Their power was their own, and that is what made them dangerous to the Entity." He tapped the text. "Dragons remind us of what it means to be free of the System's leash."
Aric frowned. "Then… are they our enemies?"
Daren studied his son's face before answering. "No. Not inherently. Some will be. Some may be allies. Dragons are as varied as mortals, though far more prideful. Remember this: the danger lies not in their power, but in how it is used."
Aric nodded slowly, absorbing every word. He stared at the image of the dragon again, tracing its form with his gaze. The thought of such beings walking the world filled him with awe—and a flicker of fear.
Daren rested a hand on the scroll, his expression shadowed. "The myths also warn of division. Even the royal bloodline was not immune to pride and ambition. That weakness gave birth to the Betrayer… and it may one day resurface."
Aric shifted uneasily. "Do you think we'll see them, Father? Real dragons?"
Daren's eyes darkened with memory, as if he had glimpsed something long ago and never spoken of it. "Yes," he said finally. "And when we do, you must be ready. For dragons do not forget their past… and they do not forgive easily."
The words lingered like smoke in the dim chamber. Aric felt their weight settle into him—not just a warning, but a promise.