The War of Draconia

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. At least there hadn’t been for a long time. But war has a way of changing things. It takes so many lives and causes much chaos. This war is no exception, and now the great Kingdom of Draconia was destroyed, what remains still engulfed in flames. The heat was unbearable, and the smoke suffocating. The streets were littered with rubble, as well as the bodies of innocent civilians and soldiers alike.

The dragons, known as the Arcadians, fought their battle in the sky. They were the humans' only chance against the Caidons, who were once Arcadians themselves long before they were banished from Arcadia and deformed by Draconus for their defiance and hatred of the humans. Mortal beings are no match for the powers they still possess. That is why dragons returned to the Valley.

On the ground, the mortals fought. Some fought on the side of power and corruption, while others fought valiantly for the good of humanity.

But the battle was unnoticed by one soldier. Sweat and blood dripped from their body, their breath heavy and staggered from their deep, fatal wounds.

Their eyes were almost lifeless, a shadow remnant of the person they once were glimmered deep in the depths. This war had taken everything from them, and now at the climax of the battle, they were about to lose themselves.

All they cared about, for now, was one final mission.

The smoke blocked their view of everything, except their desired target, the arrogant prince who escalated this war. They saw him swiftly climb the marble stairs that led to the castle.

With sword in hand, the soldier mustered what remained of their strength and marched up the steps, focusing on everything that brought them to this point. Focusing on every person they ever loved and had lost to this war. Focusing on the final battle where justice may come, the war may end, and the world may know peace once more.

Consumed by their thoughts, they failed to notice a pair of glowing golden eyes through the thick smoke, closely watching the soldier’s every move.

The eyes belonged to a blue dragon with white-feathered wings, who was perched on the rubble that was once the statue of Draconus. He could sense the hatred and anger growing in the soldier’s heart, and he feared just how far they would go to see an end to all this destruction and chaos.

The soldier entered the throne room, the young prince sitting casually on the throne.

“So, are you here to beg for your life?” he asked, smiling. Not a single ounce of concern for the fact that the kingdom was burning, his own men dying in battle.

“I’m afraid, dear friend, that the time for begging is long over. But please, don’t let that stop you. I love watching people beg.” He laughed maniacally, a twisted smile on his face.

The soldier remained quiet, simply removing their glove, and tossing it at the prince’s feet. The prince’s smile instantly disappeared.

“Really? This again?” he began, disgusted.

“Pick it up.” The soldier was calm and firm, and the prince began to panic. For the first time since these two had met, he was utterly silent. The soldier stepped closer to the prince, holding their sword with both hands, ready and waiting.

“Pick it up!”

The prince was frightened, the soldier’s intent to kill clear in their eyes, which were now dark and soulless. The soldier was ready and focused, so deep in the thought of their next move they did not hear the dragon’s roar.