Part 1: Winds Above Ashen Peaks
The high ridges of Yorei are hard, quiet except for the wind. Sho, a boy of sixteen, stops and listens. His village vanished a year back, taken by something that left only burned trees. An old dragon’s mark was found, branded into ash. Was it a beast or a message? He means to know. Skirted rocks, cold sun, pack full of bread and a map. He turns to his friend Hira, quiet in her steps, arrows strapped to her side.
‘You sure we should go up there, Sho? Legends don’t always end well.’
‘I can’t run. My whole life’s tied to that fire.’
He never lets the map drop, though wind slaps it now—gray hair in Sho’s face. Hira draws her bow, ready for anything.
Part 2: The Beast District
Did you ever filch an apple from the beast trader’s tent? Smells hang thick—rotted scales, smoke, rich earth. Traders move monster clasps and odd bones. Kaj, a big, simple man with long fangs, whistles at Sho. ‘You from the old ash village? Chasing phantoms won’t save them.’
Sho’s mouth lands hard. ‘I need the high pass. You trade for maps or for teeth?’
‘Stay in the pit. High pass beasts don’t take wounds, boy. Traders who go north come back short some piece, if at all.’ Kaj tosses a sack full of hard scales. ‘You’ll need luck more than your stories.’ Sho watches him limp away, cold slicing his hands. Why do you think Kaj keeps warning? What happened up there on the pass?
Part 3: Soar-Wings at Dusk
Old dusk’s red. From their tent, Sho and Hira spot shadows drawn out by moonrise. Great dragons in wild shapes—twisted horns, midnight blue, gold flames along bodies longer than houses. Not many would sit and watch, but Sho stands fast, Hira silent with him: hunting for sign of the Ash Mark, the brand that ruined Sho’s home. A loud thoughtful hiss comes from close: a dragon cub, tangled in a trader’s net, eyes gold as coins. They get close. With care, Hira slices the hemp and sets it free.
‘Hurry. If the pack smells us close, we’re next.’
The cub rushes from them and climbs a tall tree-root, its roar pathetic, but fierce—will it bring others?
Part 4: Truth Under The Nightveil
Moon in clouds, it’s black and still. Sho wakes to a chill and faint shape near the rolls. Not a beast nor a thief. One golden eye in the void: the freed cub. It drops a trinket, shaped in scales, before vanishing into shadow. Hira studies it. ‘A key? Or a sign?’
Before Sho can answer, a deep rumble rocks the hill. Above, slow wings drift—old, old, the bones stiff in flight. This dragon burns not hot but cold violet, lighting trees as bone-white. ‘Is this the one from your night?’ Hira’s voice quakes. Sho nods, eyes wide.
Why is the key in Sho’s fist? Why did the cub run back?
Part 5: Pact of Flame and Memory
The great one settles round a score of stones, nest burning cold flame. ‘People fled my cradle,’ it speaks clear into Sho’s mind. ‘Long ago, your kin called me friend. Now their houses taste of ash. Yet your hand freed my kin.’ Its voice soft but tough. ‘Will you make right? Not with rumors, but trust me as the first might have.’ Sho does not break.
‘I want the blaze to stop. I want peace—and an end to hunger. Help me fix this, or tell me why it’s begun.’
The old dragon places the mark by Sho—the scales on the trinket match its tail. ‘Give me your vow, fast and clean. Then I’ll reveal all that’s hidden… but beware the flame below.’ At once, the earth breaks with noise. The rival dragon, red as sun, bursts from the deep. The cub howls, smoke tight around Sho’s throat. If Sho steps wrong, there’s no second chance.
To be continued… will Sho take the dragon’s vow, or face the rival alone?
