Have you ever felt like you were meant for something more? Like there was a pull, a voice whispering through the cracks of your life, calling you toward something you weren't ready for? Well… if there is, take my advice: run from it. Because sometimes, that calling doesn't just change your life—it consumes it.
My name is William Ashborne. And this is the story of the day my world stopped being ordinary.
Moving to a new city should have felt exciting. A fresh start. A clean slate. But as I hauled the last box up the stairs of our sprawling, sun-drenched house, all I felt was bone-deep exhaustion. Every step creaked under my weight, every breath felt heavy, like I was dragging the air through a tunnel of lead.
"Whew… I'm tired," I muttered, swiping sweat from my forehead, my hand trembling slightly from the strain.
"Good job, William," my mom said, her voice soft and warm, carrying a pride that made my chest ache. Her hair caught the light of the late afternoon sun, shimmering in braided waves at the back of her neck. She always had that calm, quiet presence—like a safe harbor in a storm.
My dad chuckled, clapping a firm hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, you really did a lot today. I needed the help. Thanks, son."
I forced a smile. "No problem." My throat was tight. I wanted to tell them I was excited, that I could barely wait to explore this house—but exhaustion pinned me down harder than any words could lift.
"Why don't you go check out your new room?" Dad asked. "It's upstairs, to your left."
I practically sprinted up the stairs, each creak under my feet echoing like a warning. My room was… normal. Bright. White walls, a soft bed with blue-shaded covers, a ceiling fan lazily spinning above, a flat-screen TV mounted near the corner. Sunlight spilled across the floor, warming it in patches. A mirror reflected the afternoon glow, making the room feel larger, almost ethereal.
I dropped onto the bed and exhaled a long sigh. "Finally… a soft bed. I could get used to this."
Dinner was a different story. My mom called me down, and I had to slow my usual sprint. "Don't run down the stairs!" she scolded, though her lips twitched in a smile.
At the table, a steaming tray of lasagna, garlic bread, and salad waited. The aroma hit me, sharp and comforting, and my stomach growled.
"What's got you smiling so much?" Dad asked, a playful glint in his eyes.
"I really like this house," I admitted, taking a big bite, letting the warm pasta melt against my tongue. The flavors were rich, but it wasn't just food—it was home, or at least, the closest thing I'd felt to it in a long time.
"Well, you'll be living here for good," Mom said. "This is your home now."
I swallowed, letting warmth flood my chest. "Really?"
Dad nodded. "Yep. No better job offer than this. We're here for the long haul."
I jumped in the air, grinning, my fork still in hand. "This is amazing!"
They exchanged amused glances as I devoured my lasagna, almost too excited to focus on anything else.
That night, sleep should have come easy. It didn't.
I was pulled into a dream—a storm, a vision, a warning. Arrows whistled past my ears, cutting through smoke and ash. Fire licked the horizon, painting everything crimson and gold. Buildings crumbled as screams tore through the air, and shadowed figures moved like smoke across the battlefield.
Four warriors stood against a single terrifying figure cloaked in darkness. Their leader, his armor reflecting the dying light, raised a hand and shouted with authority.
"You will not destroy this world! Not now, not ever. The Dragon Keepers will stop you!"
The figure laughed, a sound like grinding stone scraping metal, a voice that reverberated in my chest and rattled my bones.
"Foolish children," it said. "Your courage is meaningless. I am the end of all things, and despair is my gift. Watch as everything you love crumbles into ash."
I tried to move closer, to understand, to see who they were—but the shadows twisted, shifting, hiding their faces. And then, the dark figure's gaze locked onto me. Piercing. Cold. Relentless. A dread filled my chest like ice spreading through fire. I woke up, gasping. My sheets were soaked in sweat, my heart pounding like a war drum.
The clock read 3:00 a.m. I tried to sleep again, but the visions lingered, wrapping around my mind like chains. Morning came, but it didn't feel like a new day. It felt like the calm before a storm that would drown me.
The next morning, I dressed for school, trying to act normal. My parents had already left for work. I grabbed my backpack, stepping outside into a city alive with noise. Cars honked, neighbors greeted each other, clouds drifted lazily.
Walking to Redwood High, I passed kids tossing a football. One smacked me square in the head.
"Watch where you're going!"
A boy with dark hair and sharp eyes smirked at me.
"What?" I muttered, rubbing my forehead.
"You just got in the way," he said.
I frowned. "You threw it at me."
"I'm Shin," he said, pushing past me. No hello. No sorry. Just gone.
Great. My first day, and already someone making life difficult.
Inside the school, the halls buzzed with energy. I followed my schedule: Economics 101, room 215. A kid carrying a stack of papers slammed into me, sending them fluttering like startled birds.
"Oh! Sorry!" he said.
I helped him pick them up. "No problem. I'm William, the new kid."
"I'm Zach," he said, faint grin forming. "And don't worry about Shin. He's a jerk."
We nodded at each other, a quiet understanding forming. I slipped into my seat just as the bell rang. All eyes turned toward me. I face-palmed. Perfect.
"Name?" the teacher demanded.
"William Ashborne. Sophomore."
"Take your seat."
Next to me, a girl glanced up, soft brown skin and hair that caught the light like melted chocolate.
"You're new?" she asked, voice warm.
"Yeah," I admitted.
"I'm Ava. Don't worry about Mrs. Maldiva—she's strict, but fair. You'll survive."
I smiled, heart lifting slightly. Someone in this place was kind.
Lunch was chaos. Shin shoved Zach around, threatening to ruin his project. I stepped in.
"Leave him alone," I said, voice steady.
Shin turned. Eyes narrow, lips curled. "Or what?"
"Or you'll have a problem," I said.
Before the fist came, the principal appeared, scattering the crowd. Shin vanished, a sneer lingering in his wake.
Zach looked at me like I'd just saved his life. "Thanks."
"No problem. Come eat with me?" I offered.
He nodded, and we walked to the cafeteria. Ava was there, quiet, thoughtful. I almost didn't notice her until Zack nudged me.
The day passed. Math. Lunch. Small talk. A new rhythm forming. And then it happened.
Someone bumped my shoulder. Hard.
An old man, long white beard, piercing dark eyes, grabbed my arm.
"You are a Dragon's Keeper."
Pain exploded in my forearm. He gripped tighter.
"You are a Dragon's Keeper."
I shoved him off. Heart racing. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
He vanished into the crowd, leaving me trembling.
Zack blinked at me. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said, forcing a laugh. "Crazy guy."
I got home alone. Upstairs, door locked. My arm still burned.
I pulled my sleeve down—and froze.
A dragon-shaped mark, etched into my skin, glowing faintly red.
My breath caught. Deep down, I already knew.
This was no coincidence.