Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The First Test
By the time Draven emerged from the forest, the sun had dipped below the horizon, and the sky was painted with hues of orange and purple. The village of Frostwood lay quiet in the distance, the small wooden huts casting long shadows in the fading light. But Draven didn't head toward the village. Instead, he turned in the opposite direction, following a narrow path that led away from the familiar sights and sounds of home.
The weight of the Dragonheart pressed against his chest, a constant reminder of the power he now carried. It was both a comfort and a burden, and as Draven walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that his every step was taking him farther from the life he had known.
The path wound through the forest, the trees closing in on either side. Draven's breath puffed out in small clouds as the chill of night settled in, but he barely noticed the cold. His mind was too preoccupied with the dragon's words, with the knowledge that he was the last of the Draconic Bloodline. The Dragon King. The title felt foreign on his tongue, like a mantle too heavy for him to bear.
But there was no turning back now.
The path led him to a small clearing, much like the one where he had found the Dragonheart. But this clearing was different. At its center stood a towering oak tree, its branches twisted and gnarled with age. The air around it was thick with an unnatural stillness, as if the very forest was holding its breath.
Draven approached the tree cautiously, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. The dragon had warned him that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, and he couldn't shake the feeling that this was the first of those tests.
As he drew closer, Draven noticed something strange. The bark of the oak tree was marked with deep, jagged lines, as if it had been slashed by a massive claw. The ground around the tree was scorched, the grass blackened and charred. A sense of foreboding settled over him, and he instinctively reached for the Dragonheart.
The moment his fingers touched the crystal, the power within it surged to life. The golden light flared, illuminating the clearing and revealing a figure standing at the base of the tree.
Draven's heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight before him. The figure was humanoid, but its features were distorted, twisted by some dark magic. Its skin was a sickly gray, its eyes glowing with an unnatural light. Clawed hands hung at its sides, and its mouth was twisted into a snarl.
The creature let out a low, guttural growl as it stepped forward, its eyes locked onto Draven. He could feel the malice radiating from it, a dark energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Draven clenched his fist around the Dragonheart, the power within it pulsing in response to the threat. He knew instinctively that this creature was no ordinary foe—it was a manifestation of the darkness that the dragon had warned him about, a test of his newfound power.
The creature lunged at him, moving with a speed that belied its twisted form. Draven barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as the creature's claws slashed through the air where he had just been standing.
He rolled to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest. The creature snarled, its eyes narrowing as it prepared for another attack. Draven knew he couldn't afford to hesitate. He had to fight.
Drawing on the power of the Dragonheart, Draven focused his energy, willing it to manifest. The crystal in his hand flared with light, and he felt the power surging through him, filling his limbs with strength.
The creature lunged again, and this time, Draven was ready. He sidestepped the attack, his movements quicker and more fluid than ever before. As the creature stumbled past him, Draven struck out, his fist connecting with the creature's side.
A shock of energy coursed through him, and the creature let out a pained roar as it was thrown back, crashing into the trunk of the oak tree. Draven staggered back, surprised by the force of his own attack. The power of the Dragonheart was greater than he had imagined, but he could feel it draining his energy with each use.
The creature struggled to its feet, its body crackling with dark energy. It hissed at Draven, its eyes burning with hatred. Draven knew he had to end this quickly, before the power of the Dragonheart overwhelmed him.
He focused again, drawing more energy from the crystal. The light flared brighter, and Draven felt a surge of heat in his chest. The creature lunged at him once more, but this time, Draven didn't move. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on the creature's twisted form.
At the last moment, Draven thrust his hand forward, releasing the energy he had gathered. A beam of golden light shot from the Dragonheart, striking the creature square in the chest. The creature let out a shriek of pain as the light consumed it, its body disintegrating into a cloud of dark smoke.
For a moment, the clearing was filled with the sound of the creature's dying wails, and then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the darkness was gone. The clearing was silent once more, the oak tree standing tall and unscathed.
Draven fell to his knees, gasping for breath. The Dragonheart in his hand was dim, its light fading as the last of its energy was spent. He felt drained, as if the battle had taken every ounce of his strength.
But he had won.
The realization hit him with a rush of relief. He had faced the first test of his power, and he had emerged victorious. The dragon had been right—he was stronger than he had ever imagined.
But as he knelt there, catching his breath, Draven knew that this was only the beginning. The path ahead was long and dangerous, and the tests would only grow more difficult. He had a long way to go before he could truly call himself the Dragon King.
With a groan, Draven pushed himself to his feet. The Dragonheart was cool in his hand, its power depleted for now. He tucked it safely into his cloak, his mind already turning to the next step of his journey.
The dragon had spoken of enemies who would seek to destroy him, of ancient evils awakening in the world. Draven didn't know who or what those enemies were, but he knew he couldn't face them alone. He needed allies, people he could trust to stand by his side in the battles to come.
And there was only one place he could think of to start.
The dragon rider.
Draven had heard the stories, whispered among the villagers, of a warrior who could command dragons with a single word. She was a legend, a figure of awe and fear, known only as Aria. If anyone could help him understand the power of the Dragonheart, it was her.
Draven turned his gaze to the horizon, where the first stars were beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky. The journey to find Aria would be long and difficult, but he had no choice. The fate of the world rested on his shoulders, and he couldn't afford to fail.
With a final glance at the clearing, Draven set off down the path, the Dragonheart pulsing softly against his chest. The journey ahead was uncertain, and the darkness was already closing in. But for the first time in his life, Draven felt a sense of purpose, a certainty that he was exactly where he was meant to be.
The Dragon King's journey had begun.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone