Born by the Flame of the Dragon

As Martha sat in stillness, her legs folded beneath her and her palms resting gently on her knees, a violent jolt tore through her consciousness. It wasn't just a glimpse or a passing whisper from beyond. It was real. It was terrifying. It was a prophecy.

Her eyes flew open, breath caught in her throat. Her chest rose and fell with a sharp, frantic rhythm as the vision echoed in her mind: chaos, destruction, and a darkness swallowing everything.

She didn't hesitate. She rushed to John and Andrew, her voice shaking as much as her hands. "Wake up, please! We have to leave now! There's no time left. The Great War is starting!"

John stirred, still half-lost in sleep. "What war? What are you talking about?"

"No time to explain," Martha said, already raising her arms. Sparks flared at her fingertips as a glowing portal spiralled open before them, golden, radiant, pulsing with untamed energy. "We'll talk on the way."

This wasn't just any portal. It was a doorway, woven from the fabric of her magic, tethering the safety of her hidden realm to the real world to the tomb.

As they approached the portal's edge, John stopped abruptly, his feet rooted. "We're not going anywhere until you tell us where you're taking us."

Martha turned to him, her gaze soft but resolute. "You came to me for help. You believed I could guide you. Then trust me. We have to move now before we lose everything."

John lingered only a moment, then nodded. Andrew said nothing. Blood trickled beneath his tunic, but his will kept him moving.

They darted through the edges of the city, the world outside hushed in unnatural silence. The moon watched in stillness as they neared a towering stone wall ancient, immovable.

John narrowed his eyes. "This is it?"

"Yes," Martha replied. "We need to go beneath the city."

"Through this wall? How?"

She said nothing. Kneeling, she traced glowing patterns across the stone with her fingertips. The symbols shimmered, each one pulsing like a heartbeat. The stone shimmered, its surface rippling like moonlight on a restless pond.

Moments later, the wall dissolved into light.

John stared, stunned. "You... drew it open."

Her voice was steady, but there was something powerful in it, like the hush before a storm. "Creation is what I was born with," she said, eyes glowing faintly. "It's the way I reshape the world around me."

They stepped into the dark beyond. The tunnel yawned before them, silent, endless.

"I still don't get it," John murmured. "Where are we going?"

"To the heart of it all," Martha answered. "This is where everything changes. It's our only shot."

The tunnel widened suddenly, unveiling a cathedral of stone, its sheer scale enough to shelter the entire city above without a whisper of its presence below.

Andrew's eyes widened. "We're here, aren't we?"

Martha nodded. "Yes. This is where it begins."

John peered into the blackness. "I can't see anything. It's just... empty."

"This place lies beneath the tomb. Beneath history. It's where it all started."

John stepped forward and staggered.

Deep inside John, something long-dormant began to awaken a primal force, ancient and restless, rising from the shadows of his soul like a storm breaking free from silence.

The creature within, once forgotten, had awakened, its ancient power now stirring like fire in his veins.

It recognised this place.

This was where the Dragon Queen had been sealed away over a thousand years ago.

John's body trembled, every muscle straining against the force trying to rise. He clenched his fists, resisting.

But it was too strong.

He fell.

"John!" Andrew cried, rushing to him.

The air thickened. The ground shook.

And from the depths, it emerged.

Its hide shimmered like ancient metal awakened from slumber, and its eyes held the light of creation and rui, the suns of forgotten worlds. Wings unfolding like midnight curtains.

The Dragon.

It stared at them, timeless and unblinking.

Andrew froze, his voice caught.

This wasn't a nightmare.

It was real.

And the war had already begun.