Ajal: Woven Through the Realms

Thud. Thud.

Ajal's boots pressed into moss-covered stone as he descended the shattered steps into the sunken ruins. Trees arched overhead like rib bones, vines thick as rope hanging between pillars long consumed by time.

The ruin was massive—far larger than it appeared from the ridge above. Moss-colored murals lined the cracked walls, etched with faded symbols of dragons coiled around fractal sigils.

"No insignia. No sect. No clan," Aurielle whispered. "This predates every recorded civilization in Asyranth. Possibly a remnant from a pre-collapse era."

Ajal's fingers grazed a runestone. Hum... It pulsed beneath his touch.

"Be cautious, Ajal. The ruin is resonating with your bloodline."

He stopped before a wide circular door—its surface engraved with interlocking spirals.

Suddenly—

KRA-K-K-KRRRK!

The door split open with a bone-grinding groan, revealing a descent into deeper darkness.

He stepped forward, eyes gleaming in the dark.

Unseen above, nestled silently in the branches of an arched tree, a woman watched.

She wore robes of white and bronze, her form still, her presence completely masked. Only her golden, slitted eyes betrayed her interest.

Isirya Vaelen'thyr—Pureblood Dragon from a realm far beyond Asyranth—watched the lone Vyrinthian descend into what only sovereign bloodlines were meant to enter.

"He's unrefined," she mused silently, "but that presence… that spiral core… it is impossible."

----

Back to Ajal

The inner sanctum was a vast hall, circular and impossibly wide. Obsidian dragon statues lined the perimeter, all bowing inward toward a central platform.

A glyph spiraled on the floor—a perfect fractal circle pulsing in gold and violet.

"This is it," Aurielle confirmed. "The Trial of the Unwritten Flame."

"Purpose?" Ajal asked, stepping into the center.

"To forge sovereign will. To temper recursion through the fire of choice. You must face the outcomes of the paths you never walked."

Before he could respond, the glyph lit.

WHOOM!

A pillar of fire erupted around him—violet and gold, crackling with ancient resonance.

[Trial Initiated: The Unwritten Flame]

FWUMP!

His breath was stolen. Reality bent. Then before he knew it

Three figures materialized before him—each a version of himself.

A savage beast, four-legged and feral, drenched in blood, eyes crazed—what he could've become had he embraced his draconic instincts completely.

A jeweled tyrant, seated on a throne of bones, his aura suffocating—what he might've been if he craved only conquest.

A shackled wretch, his wings torn, kneeling—what he could have become had he surrendered to fear.

"Each one is an echo," Aurielle explained. "To pass the trial, you must destroy all three. Only then will your soul claim authorship of its own evolution."

Ajal exhaled, drawing in the fire around him. His claws ignited—fwoosh!

"Let's burn the versions of me that should never exist."

The feral beast struck first, leaping with monstrous speed. Ajal caught it mid-lunge and slammed it down.

BOOM!

The tyrant followed

WHOOSH!

Hurling spears of psychic fire. Ajal twisted, wings folding, flame shielding him as he retaliated with a tail-slam that shattered the throne behind his mirror-self.

The wretch begged with hollow eyes—then struck from behind.

SHINK.

Ajal growled and drove his claw through the specter's chest.

KRKT!

BOOOM!!!!

His aura pulsed outward.

[Resonance Surge – Sublimation Triggered]

BOOM!

The spiral beneath him erupted in flame. The echoes disintegrated.

His Soul Halo spun in full, glowing violently—its spiral forming another ring. Two layers now. Two revolutions.

He had tempered himself—and rejected the fate others may have written for him.

----

The fire receded.

Ajal stood in silence, breathing hard. His scales gleamed. A new sigil burned across his chest: the Mark of the Sovereign Flame.

From the shadows, Isirya Vaelen'thyr stepped into view.

Clack. Clack.

Her bare feet echoed on the stone.

He turned, startled for only a moment before narrowing his gaze.

"Who are you?"

She tilted her head. "You earned the ruin's mark. I wasn't sure you'd survive."

He straightened, wings flaring slightly. "Been watching that long?"

"Long enough."

Their eyes met—dragon to dragon. Predator to anomaly.

"I am Isirya," she said, finally. "A sovereign from another world. I came here to recover my strength, not to make friends."

She paused.

"But… I've never seen a dragon like you. Not here. Not anywhere."

Ajal tilted his head. "So?"

"So," she said with a wry smirk, "if you want to grow without limit… you'll need someone who understands how not to break. Let me teach you."

He studied her for a long breath, then nodded once. He knew he had Aurielle already and had a system that he had yet to fully dive into, but seeing the beauty in front of him, he couldn't pass it up.

"Alright, Isirya. Teach me."

Hearing this Isirya nodded and then she waved her hand. After this they both disappeared from the old ruins.