Valo stared up at the obelisk, its cracks swimming, constantly forming and un-forming words before his eyes. Before him, in a heap, he’d piled the shards of stone that Alvarro had taken, ready to slot them all into place.

As he stood staring up at it, Holly sidled over, the footsteps echoing through the Lair. She let out a sigh as she approached.

“Alvarro’s secure,” Holly volunteered. “Gino’s taking care of him—and of the other dwarves.”

To avoid the attention of the other dwarves, they’d returned to Ixiuul’s Lair well after dark, deep into the night—past the time the tavern closed and the streets had emptied, when the entire town was asleep. But there were still a few dwarves who’d taken up residence in the Lair, and Gino had hurried off to ensure they didn’t see anything.

Dwarves were surprisingly heavy sleepers, and, apparently, had terribly vivid dreams. Valo had heard them talking and thrashing about as they slept, even more so than the warriors he’d been traveling with before. He supposed it made sense: dwarves all shared one mind, or something like that, according to Gino—so perhaps their dreams were just… bigger? Valo wasn’t really sure.

But that was far down the list of questions he wanted answers to. Right now, as he stared up at the obelisk, he had a single question in mind.

What was this thing?

Holly, too, was curious. She bent down and picked up a sliver of stone. “Shall we…?”

Valo glanced at her, paused, then nodded.

Together, they began to slot in piece of stone after piece of stone. The task was more labor intensive than they had assumed, though. The slivers were all only slightly different shapes, and it was difficult to tell which piece went where. There were also a few who’d been worn away by Alvarro wrenching them free, so Valo and Holly had to awkwardly stuff a bunch of flakes of stone into some of the holes.

But, after a few hours of a frustrating puzzle, they took a step back, admiring the almost-completed obelisk. All that remained was a single sliver in Valo’s hand.

Outside, the gentle whistling of birdsong trickled into being. The Lair grayed as the slivers of morning light penetrated the cavern.

“Gods,” Holly muttered, trying—and failing—to suppress a yawn. “Time flies.”

Valo quirked a brow. “It does?”

“It’s… just a saying.”

Seeing the blank look on Valo’s face, she continued.

“You know… something people say,” Holly explained—badly, in Valo’s view. “It’s… a saying.” Sensing that she wasn’t getting anywhere, she let out a sigh and gave up. “Never mind.” She gestured to the obelisk. “Let’s finish this up and get some rest.”

Valo nodded. He edged closer, raising the shard to the slot in the obelisk. As it neared the slot, he felt the pull of the obelisk, drawing its shard toward itself. It pulled so strongly that the shard was ripped clean from Valo’s claw, flying into place with a tut.

And as soon as the shard settled into place, the entire obelisk began to glow, outlined by a halo of golden light. The shifting cracks that’d been continuously swirling before now slotted together, and Valo tried to read what formed on the surface of the obelisk. His eyes darted from side to side.

“What is it?” Holly asked. “What’re you seeing?”

But he couldn’t keep up with the sheer speed of the words racing before him. The language was strange and old—ancient, even. Its script was exotic and delicate, with each letter flowing into the next. Valo could only catch a few words, but one word kept appearing, over and over again.

Beware, the obelisk read. Valo squinted, trying to read more.

As he stood staring up at the glowing obelisk, its light surged, eclipsing the words and rendering them unreadable. The light surged so brightly that it forced Valo’s and Holly’s eyes shut.

And when they opened their eyes, the light had coagulated before them, in a form hovering above the obelisk.

In the form of a dragon.

The dragon’s ethereal form curled around the obelisk. In the center of the chamber, a colossal silver dragon emerges from the shadows. Its great wings stretched from wall to wall, shimmering with iridescent scales that seemed to draw the ambient light to it light. A regal crown of ivory horns adorned its majestic head, emphasizing its regality and authority.

As it breathed, the air crackled with a sharp hiss. Its immense, ethereal form curled around the obelisk. The dragon’s eyes—deep pools of ancient power—seemed to pierce Valo’s soul as he stared up at the dragon.

At Dragonlord Ixiuul.

Holly looked at Valo, her eyes wide in awe. To her relief, Valo seemed to be seeing this too.

“My spirit is weak,” the Ixiuul’s voice boomed, seeming to emanate from his very form without the need to open his maw. Its voice carried through the Lair like the boom of thunder. “There is not much time.”

“N-Not much time?” Valo asked sheepishly. “F-For what?”

Without another word, Ixiuul raised his claw, sweeping it across the Lair and down to Valo. The young dragon jumped instinctively, retreating as the claw descended over him. He shut his eyes, fearing the worst.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

But Ixiuul wasn’t trying to hurt him. The Dragonlord simply extended a claw and, gently, touched the tip of his claw to Valo’s small forehead.

As soon as the claw made contact with Valo’s ruby-colored scales, he felt an intense burst of energy cascade through his body. His bones burned with draconic power. His heart surged with fire. Every muscle, every scale tensed with fiery energy.

And as the feeling culminated, words etched themselves into the air before Valo, carved in harsh, bright golden light.

Draconic essence absorbed!

Level up!

Level 2 — Wyrmkin

Attribute changes:

Strength: 1 (+1)

Agility: 1 (+1)

Combat: 1 (+1)

Intelligence: 2 (+1)

Wisdom: 1 (+1)

Charisma: 2 (+1)

Endurance: 2 (+1)

[Dragonboon]: 992 (+1)

The flurry of numbers and words rushed over Valo, and he could barely comprehend them. Strength, Wisdom, Agility… Dragonboon? What was Dragonboon? And why was it so high?

His questions were ejected from his mind, however, as a flurry of sensations hit his body. His flesh tingled and his muscles ached. All four of his legs screamed with sudden pain. His back, his neck, his jaw, his wings… Every inch of him burned with fiery, intense pain.

As rapidly as the flurry of text and the pain in his body had descended onto him, they faded just as quickly.

Ixiuul—in all his towering, draconic majesty—stared down at Valo, his eyes appraising the young dragon before him.

“You are… young,” Ixiuul boomed.

Valo could only nod. The Dragonlord wasn’t wrong.

“But no matter…” Ixiuul let out a long sigh. “The task is the same.”

“The task?” Valo asked, trying to deepen his own voice to match Ixiuul’s. He didn’t succeed. “What task?” He edged forward. He had countless questions to ask, and he couldn’t

“The only task that matters, young one,” Ixiuul said, his voice weakening slightly. “Restoring us. The task falls to you.”

Valo nodded. “But how do I—”

“Follow the paths,” Ixiuul interjected. “Find our Lairs. Restore them…” His voice was fading rapidly now. “Restore them and we shall come.”

Valo opened his maw to speak—but Ixiuul pressed a claw to his forehead again, interrupting him. This time, though, he didn’t level up.

This time, the entire Lair was filled with flecks of shimmering light. Words hung before him—Ixiuul’s Lair, they read. But they faded rapidly, becoming another pair of words.

Valo’s Lair

Valo stared up at the words, wide-eyed. His Lair?! This entire place was… his?

As if he could hear his thoughts, Ixiuul nodded. “Use this place well, young one. Use it. Grow your power.” He paused, a low hum leaving his maw. “Save us. Save us all…” His voice had almost entirely faded now.

“Save us?” Valo asked. “From what?”

“Who,” Ixiuul corrected, his voice wavering. “Envius.” He spoke the word—the name—with rage smoldering beneath the surface. “He betrayed us. He… doomed us.”

“What did he do?” Valo asked.

Ixiuul paused. “That tale is long—but my time with you is not.” He paused again, staring down at Valo. “I don’t have long before my spirit fades. Speak a question and I shall answer.”

Valo furrowed his brow and began to consider his options. He could ask more about this ‘Envius’ that Ixiuul had mentioned. He could ask Ixiuul what dragons were meant for. He could ask where they came from.

But he quickly arrived at the most pressing question. The question the entire realm had been asking for the last few years.

“What happened to all of the other dragons?” Valo asked.

Ixiuul paused, deep in thought. A low hum escaped his pursed maw. “I… do not know. All I remember is… fear. Burning, urgent fear.” He pursed his maw again. “I remember… fleeing from Envius. I remember Elder Dragons falling from the sky like swatted flies. I remember…” He paused suddenly. “I remember…” He furrowed his regal brow. “That is all I remember. The rest is… gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean it’s gone?”

“Just that,” Ixiuul said. “My memories are… gone. After fleeing the Temple of the Elders, all I remember is… darkness. Endless, inescapable darkness…”

Ixiuul’s voice waned, and his form flickered—slightly at first, but his deterioration rapidly accelerated.

“My time…” Ixiuul hummed, his voice crackling and distorting. “My time… is… finished… I… will lend you… my power…”

And just then, in a sudden flash, Ixiuul vanished.

“Hey! Wait!” Valo cried out. “What am I supposed to do? What power?” He edged forward. “Wait! I have more questions!”

His voice echoed through the Lair, and no booming voice answered him. Ixiuul—or his soul, or whatever that was—was gone. And with him, the answers Valo sought.

Frustrated, the young dragon—now a wyrmkin—marched up to the obelisk. It still glowed faintly with golden light. He stabbed his claw toward the stone, in the exact spot where he’d inserted the last shard.

But, to his surprise, there was no crack. The shard had fused back into the stone. And now, the entire surface was whole, devoid of the cracks and fractures Valo had seen before. The words, too, had vanished from its surface. Now, it looked like any ordinary rock—aside from the golden glow.

And that, too, began to change. It didn’t fade like Ixiuul had, though. It shimmered, intensifying for a moment—and then veins of golden light burst into being, racing toward Valo’s claw. A chorus of loud hisses penetrated the air as they converged on his claw, traveling across the obelisk in mere moments.

And before Valo could pull his claw back, the light touched his claw. He felt the stern, uncompromising surge of Ixiuul’s magic. The Dragonlord’s magic surged through him, rushing through every muscle and every bone, bursting through every scale and every organ.

He felt like he’d swallowed the sun.

INTERMEDIATE Skill acquired: Ixiuul’s Command (Lv. 3)

As a dragon, your words carry weight. All who can hear them shall obey. All lesser creatures shall bend to your draconic authority.

Usage Limit: Once per 24 hours.

The surging magic cut off suddenly, throwing Valo back with an immaterial shove. Valo stumbled back and tipped over, hitting the ground with a thud. Holly rushed over to help him up, but he was already sitting up.

As he recovered, his head was spinning. The words of his new Skill swam in his mind, dizzying him as they drifted apart into nothingness. When its golden light faded, all traces of Ixiuul had vanished.

And, once again, Valo was the only dragon in the world.