Far beyond the forest and its silver ruins, beneath mountains blackened by ages of war, the throne of the Dark Valley trembled.
The Demon Ruler, cloaked in obsidian armor that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of a heartbeat, stood before a massive mirror carved from volcanic glass. Within its shifting surface, images flickered—Kael, Lira, Eryndor, and the faint shimmer of the silver dragon's flame.
He watched them silently, his taloned hand resting against the hilt of his sword. The blade whispered, They grow stronger.
"I know," he murmured, voice echoing with a deep resonance that made the shadows ripple. "That is why we must move before they remember too much."
A smaller demon approached, kneeling low. Its voice trembled. "My lord, the scouts report the boy's training has begun. The old one—Eryndor—walks with him."
At the mention of the name, the Demon Ruler's eyes narrowed, twin coals burning in the dark. "Eryndor… So the ghost returns."
He turned sharply, the air around him warping. From the shadows stepped her—a tall figure wrapped in dark silk and bound runes, her eyes like cracks of crimson lightning. She bowed slightly.
"My lord," she said softly. "Shall I go to them?"
"No," he replied. "Not yet. The boy's heart is not ready to break."
The woman tilted her head, smirking faintly. "You sound almost merciful."
"Mercy?" The Demon Ruler chuckled—a sound like metal grinding stone. "No. I want him to walk willingly into his fate. To choose it."
He raised his hand, and the glass before him rippled. Kael's reflection shimmered in it again—tired, determined, and unaware that he was being watched.
"Tell the Legion of Shadows to prepare the sigil," he ordered. "And send word to the dark valley's heart—our old flame must awaken."
The woman bowed, fading into smoke.
Alone now, the Demon Ruler approached the mirror again. His reflection warped, revealing something beneath his form—scales of silver faintly glinting beneath the black armor.
He reached to his throat and brushed the edge of an ancient scar, almost hidden by the armor's collar. His voice dropped to a whisper, filled with something like memory.
"He bears your light, old friend. But when he burns, he'll burn everything."
He closed his eyes, and for a moment, the room darkened completely—until his wings unfolded, vast and jagged, stretching into the shadows like torn banners.
"Let the humans tremble," he said softly. "Let the dragons mourn. The age of flame and sorrow will rise again… and this time, I will not fall."
Outside, lightning cracked across the sky. From the mountains, armies began to stir—thousands of eyes glinting red in the dark.
And far away, Kael felt the faintest chill crawl down his spine, though he didn't know why.
Lira looked at him. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head slowly. "I don't know. But something just woke up."