He gasped, his pupils dilating in terror. His thoughts scrambled, but he couldn’t move. A crimson blotch stained the fading sky, mocking him with its brightness. Smoke and sulphur filled his nostrils, his heartbeat thundered in his ears. The sun was dying, as the old ones had warned, signalling the end of days.

The crimson blotch became a fireball, a lion’s roar in its wake. It slammed into the earth with a thunderous boom, shaking the ground and hurling him backwards. His head smashed a rock, and he blacked out. He was motionless and quiet, oblivious to everything but the crackling noise that slowly woke him up.

With a groan, he forced his eyes open and felt a surge of pain in his forehead. He reached for it and flinched. He pushed past the pain and scanned his surroundings, looking for clues. A massive crater gaped in front of him, as wide as twenty-four steps. He couldn’t tell how deep it went, but at its heart he spotted a red orb, glowing and defiant, like a star that had fallen from the sky.

The fractured rock crackled. Curiosity overcame fear. He slunk towards the crater, a shadow-cat on the hunt. His heart thudded louder than the twigs he crushed.

He froze as the rock cracked like fiery veins. “This is a bad sign. I should run.” His voice was a faint whisper. But he was mesmerized by the rock, hidden among the kapok trees. Then it exploded with a deafening blast, hurling fragments everywhere.

A skull-sized shard flew at him like an arrow. He dodged behind a kapok trunk. The shard grazed his ear and hit a tree, exploding in flames. The forest lit up. He squeezed his eyes shut and shielded them with his hand.

He cracked open his left eye and glimpsed a blue creature among the shattered rocks. It was unlike anything he had ever seen: a reptilian form with hexagonal scales, except for its pale and clawed feet. It had bat-like wings on its back, folded over each other on the ground.

A deep voice echoed in his ears, but he saw no lips move on the beast’s snout. “I mean you no harm, come closer,” it said. He shivered with fear and wonder. The voice softened and gentled. “Young man, I come in peace.” The creature continued, “What is your name?”

He gazed at the creature, noticing a faint movement in its upper wing. It quivered slightly. The jaws parted for the first time, exposing rows of sharp gray fangs. One of them was bent and misshapen, like an outcast among royalty. “Come closer,” the dragon rasped, its pink tongue dangling from its mouth.

He stepped closer and introduced himself. “Elrich.” The dragon snorted. “Elrich?” A stench filled the air. Elrich wrinkled his nose and fought the urge to cover it. “Pardon me, but what are you?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“I am a dragon, a creature of your legends.” The beast raised his head, his golden eyes meeting Elrich’s.

“Do you have a name?” Elrich asked, trying to sound brave.

The dragon’s laughter rang like a melody in the forest, his face wrinkling with pain. His wrinkles deepened into grooves, as if carved by a plow. “Every living thing has a name,” he said. He spread his wings, revealing his majestic scales.

Elrich gazed at him in awe. “And yours is?” He took a step closer, curious.

“Gorabroth, King of Muduk from the starry realm of Draco.” The dragon bowed his head slightly, as if acknowledging a fellow monarch.

“Your grace, I’m honoured,” Elrich bowed. He felt a surge of respect and admiration for the creature.

“You humans are loyal to your kings, even after millennia. Dragons have no such bond.” King Gorabroth’s face tensed. He frowned and clenched his teeth. He squinted, as if seeing something far away. “Your world is in danger,” he said. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

Elrich looked around, expecting an attack. “What do you mean, your grace?”

“Lord Vorghul has a sinister plan. He wants to drain the suns of every galaxy,” King Gorabroth said. He reached under his wing and revealed an orange crystal cube. Inside it, a blue liquid coiled like a snake.

Elrich gasped. “What is that?” He reached for the cube, but the dragon pulled it back.

“This is the firestone, a powerful relic that could wipe out a civilization.” King Gorabroth said. He clutched it to his chest, as if guarding a treasure.

“Your grace, you need help,” Elrich said. He saw the blood dripping from the dragon’s wounds.

“No time. Take my hide for armour. Protect the firestone with your life,” the king said. He pushed the cube into Elrich’s hands.

Elrich stepped back. “Me? I’m just a young man. The king should have this.” He tried to give it back, but the dragon refused.

The dragon reached for his hand. “Elrich, come here.” He spoke with urgency and authority.

Elrich backed away. “What will you do to me?” he asked.

“Trust me.” Gorabroth extended his hand. “I need your help. Put your hand under my right wing. I’m wounded there.” Elrich obeyed, averting his eyes from the blood. He felt a warm, sticky wetness and a gaping hole in the flesh.

Elrich plunged his hand into the king’s flesh, feeling it squirm and spasm around him. Blood gushed from the gash, drenching them both. Gorabroth chanted in an ancient language, and the earth responded. Pebbles and twigs stirred, then whirled faster and faster, dragging boulders along. A great whirlwind rose up, dwarfing them.

Elrich gasped at the sight, then shut his eyes as the wind pelted his skin with stones that gnawed like teeth. His shirt tore apart, scattering buttons everywhere. He gripped Gorabroth’s body, fearing he would be torn away by the strong wind. Then the whirlwind swallowed them. Elrich felt a jolt of power from his hand, where it met the king’s flesh.

He felt a thousand needles stab his skin as the wind whipped him around. His body spasmed, his eyes rolled back, his mouth frothed. He lost all sense of reality, only pain and wind. Then it stopped. He collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Silence filled the air.

“What did you do?” he croaked; his voice barely audible. He felt a sharp pain in his chest and gasped for air.

“I showed you your world’s fate,” King Gorabroth said, grimacing. He towered over Elrich, his scales shimmering in the daylight.

“It was terrible,” Elrich said, shivering. He remembered the visions of fire, blood and death that had filled his mind.

“It was a warning. And a secret,” replied the dragon. He lowered his head and looked into Elrich’s eyes with a piercing gaze. “You are the only one who has seen it. And you must not tell anyone.”

“Can we stop it?” Elrich asked, his eyes wide with fear and curiosity. He felt a strange connection to the dragon, as if they shared a bond beyond words. The king looked at the sky and sighed. He seemed tired and weary, as if he had lived for too long.

“Is there hope?” Elrich pressed, eager to hear more.

“Patience, boy. The truth will come to you when you are ready for it. But beware of Lord Vorghul. He will stop at nothing to replace this stone; it is the key to everything. Many have sought it, but few have found it. And none have understood its true power.” He sighed and closed his eyes. His face froze in a mask of death.

Elrich felt a cold dread in his chest. He clutched the stone and looked at the king’s lifeless face. “My king, I am afraid. You have put the fate of the world in my young hands.” He whispered. But there was no answer. Only a silence that crushed him like a shroud.

He touched the king’s nose with two fingers, hoping for a breath. But there was none. King Gorabroth was dead.

He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had met the dragon king, seen the future of his world, and received the most powerful relic imaginable. And now he was alone, with no one to guide him or protect him.

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