The crimson sky of the Chaos Realm swirled like molten glass, its hues shifting unpredictably with each gust of wind. Sebas had always considered the world’s wild beauty something of a cruel jest—a breathtaking facade hiding endless struggle. As a soul binder without even the faintest connection to another being, he felt more like a spectator than a participant in this chaotic symphony. The adventuring guild had taken pity on him, offering menial tasks far beneath the aspirations of someone born with a hint of magic. Yet, for Sebas, today felt different. The air was charged, thick with the scent of ash and something older—a promise of change.
Sebas trudged through the bustling town square, his boots kicking up dust as he dodged frantic merchants and wide-eyed children. Chaos incarnate, he thought as he side-stepped a toppled fruit cart. The war that had ravaged these lands had left its mark not only on the people but on the very fabric of reality. Shards of displaced existence hovered in the air like jagged glass, shimmering faintly before dissolving into nothingness.
His destination loomed ahead: the Grand Nexus Library. Once a towering bastion of knowledge, it now stood as a shadow of its former self, its once-pristine spires scorched and crumbling. The guild had sent Sebas to retrieve what he could before the structure inevitably collapsed. “Even a level-zero soul binder can carry books,” they’d joked, though Sebas had seen pity in their eyes.
Crossing the threshold of the library felt like stepping into another world. The air grew cool and still, muffling the distant clamor of the town. Rows of towering shelves stretched into darkness, their contents illuminated only by the faint glow of reality shards that danced like restless fireflies. Sebas tightened his grip on his satchel and began his search, the faint scent of burnt parchment stinging his nose.
The deeper he ventured, the stranger the library became. Books whispered faintly, their covers trembling as though eager to be opened. He swore he heard a faint melody—low and mournful—but dismissed it as his imagination. Then he saw it: a single tome, untouched by the decay that had claimed its neighbors. Bound in blackened scales, its cover was embossed with a sigil of a dragon’s eye, glinting faintly in the dim light.
Sebas hesitated. He wasn’t particularly superstitious, but even he could sense the weight of the book’s presence. Still, he reached out, fingers brushing the warm surface. A jolt shot through him, and the world tilted. The library faded, replaced by a vast, oppressive darkness. Fire blazed in the distance, and a voice—low, guttural, and undeniably ancient—rippled through the void.
“Who dares disturb my slumber?”
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Sebas froze, his heart pounding. Before him, a figure emerged from the flames. She was immense, her form shifting between that of a dragon wreathed in molten scales and a regal woman clad in obsidian armor. Her eyes burned with an intensity that made him want to fall to his knees.
“You,” she said, her voice soft but no less terrifying. “A fledgling soul binder. How... quaint.”
Sebas swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” he stammered. “I was just—”
“Seeking power,” she interrupted, her lips curving into a smirk. “All who stumble upon my domain seek power, whether they admit it or not. Tell me, little one, do you know who I am?”
He shook his head, though a part of him already knew the answer. Legends of the Dragon Queen of the Infernal Realms were whispered even in the most remote corners of the Chaos Realm.
“I am Tiameth,” she declared, her form growing larger, the flames around her roaring. “Queen of Dragons, Mistress of Hellfire, and Keeper of Souls. You have touched my book, mortal. By doing so, you have invited me into your soul.”
Sebas’s knees buckled. “I don’t—I didn’t mean—”
“Silence.” Her command was absolute. “Your intent matters little. What matters is this: I see potential in you, however faint. A connection between us could grant you the power you so desperately lack. But such a bond demands sacrifice.”
The flames around her shifted, revealing images—his memories. His meager existence, the pitying looks from his guildmates, the whispered doubts he thought no one heard. Sebas’s chest tightened.
“What do you want from me?” he whispered.
“Your allegiance,” she replied. “Pledge yourself to me, and I shall grant you a fragment of my strength. But know this: such power comes with a price. You will be bound to me, your soul a thread in my web. Refuse, and I shall take the book—and your life.”
Sebas closed his eyes, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He had always been powerless, drifting through life without purpose. This was his chance to change that, to grasp the strength he’d always envied in others. But could he accept the cost?
“I...” He hesitated, then met her gaze. “I accept.”
Tiameth’s smile was wicked. “Wise choice.”
Fire surged around him, searing yet strangely comforting. The bond snapped into place, a tangible thread linking their souls. Sebas gasped as power flooded his veins, unfamiliar and intoxicating. When the flames receded, he was back in the library. The blackened tome was gone, and the air smelled strongly of smoke.
And then he saw it: the fire. Flames licked at the walls, devouring the shelves with unnatural speed. Panic surged, but so did something else—a voice in his mind, calm and commanding.
*Harness it. The flames are your ally now.*
Sebas extended his hand instinctively. The fire responded, bending to his will. He carved a path through the inferno, his newfound power guiding him. When he finally stumbled out of the collapsing library, the town square was in chaos. People shouted, pointing at the blazing structure.
But Sebas didn’t hear them. He was too focused on the sigil that now burned faintly on his palm—a dragon’s eye, just like the one on the tome.
The fledgling soul binder had become something more. And as the flames reflected in his eyes, Sebas couldn’t help but smirk. Chaos had found its hero—or perhaps, its villain.