Planes, Trains, and Magic?

The world would end in dragon fire.

This, Kavik knew for centuries.

He breathed heavy, and his lungs drank thirstily of flame instead of oxygen. Elves were heartier than humans, yet his skin burned as sweat spilled from his pores and instantly evaporated.

The Eldenwood trees here had completely run dry. There was nothing left in this forest.

It stood lifeless for miles, not a living soul in sight. Every bit of mana gone completely, leaving him without a flicker of hope.

The massive dragon slept for centuries under the forest, ever since his ancestors trapped the fierce creature there. They erected the forest, the power in trees flowing down to the roots, feeding into the woven spells.

Once the power dried up, there would be nothing keeping the dragon down.

It would wake up, hungrier and angrier than before, and there was no one alive that could stop it.

Kavik had failed. His kind was designated the task to keep the power flowing, to keep the forest alive. Yet in these last centuries…

The thought died as he staggered out of the forest. The bustling city couldn’t contrast more with the dying forest. Cars bustled past on the paved road, bathed by streetlights just turning on in the early evening.

A plane flew past, over towering skyscrapers.

A train blared in the distance.

This city was unrecognizable from when he was a child. This city used to be a place of magic. Then someone discovered emberstone, a material that can produce great power and thrust the world into an industrial revolution.

Of course, in the beginning it was wonderful. It was an age of invention, of convenience. But overtime, emberstone was being mined in excess. And magic-users neglected maintaining the forest.

Magic-users like himself. It was his duty to teach the next generation, to carry on the knowledge from his own teachers.

How could he let this happen?

He always thought he had more time. The elves, wizards, mages, even demons, had all joined forces last time to trap the dragon.

He'd always find a reason not to step into that forest.

He’d been there, just a fearful little boy, not ready for the responsibly. He’d been told to stay at a safe distance along with the youngest magic users, just in case their elders failed.

The runes were the most powerful, said to withstand every circumstance. But only with regular maintenance.

His own teacher gave him that duty.

Instead, he chose to languish in luxury for centuries. He was glad his teacher was long dead because he would so ashamed.

How could he turn this around now? Last time they needed an entire army. His kind were few and far between. Magic was no longer being taught. He never took on any apprentices, and neither had the few magic users that remained.

The only hope was to train a new generation before the great dragon emerged.

And then…what?

This was a story I just couldn’t finish.

Where was I going with this?

At every point, the story just fizzled out.

And worst of all, it seemed boring. I’ve just dumped a bunch of exposition on the reader.

The characters just weren’t right. My main character seems too unlikeable. He’s known this would happen for centuries but hadn’t acted until it was too late. He comes off as lazy.

But I wanted to portray a character who saw too much death at a young age, given too much responsibility at a young age that he avoided his duties. And then centuries later came and saw the result of his inattention.

This, I feel gets lost in the telling.

That’s the next problem. There’s too much telling.

I want to do this story justice. That’s why it keeps being rewritten repeatedly over the years.

This is a story I very much want to finish. I just need to get it right.