The City of Dragons

  Oryndral, the largest nation of Caltheris, was a city teeming with life and activity. Ruled by the Valtheren family, it served as a critical hub for trade, especially for the Western elven nation of Luthanyr. Located in the southwestern continent of Mylaris, Luthanyr had no direct access to waterways, relying entirely on Oryndral for trade connections with other nations. This dependency fostered a strong political alliance between the two powers, further reinforced by Oryndral’s assistance in protecting Mylaris' sacred forest lands.

  The elves of Luthanyr were the only nation capable of producing Tier III artifacts, making their trade relationships invaluable. Oryndral’s skies were filled with dragons, their massive wings casting imposing shadows over the city. These mighty creatures were primarily used for transporting goods, while swift wyverns served as messengers. Occasionally, a Greater Dragon could be seen soaring through the skies—either part of the military or undergoing training.

  At midday, Darynth Valtheren, ruler of Oryndral, prepared to step out of his office for an important task. His daughter, Arlena, was being sent to Luthanyr for further study and training as a champion. Though the elven nation was only an hour away by wyvern, his concerns ran deeper than distance. Arlena had been viewed as a political asset since birth, with invitations from prestigious academies constantly arriving. Yet Darynth refused to use her as a mere tool. Instead, he entrusted her training to his uncle, Arenis Daerion, ruler of Luthanyr, ensuring she would be under both family care and expert guidance.

  Arlena was a champion—a rare being born with the ability to channel immense physical strength through Elyser, despite her seemingly fragile body. By age nine, her raw strength rivaled that of Greater Dragons. However, this power also posed a risk, as she struggled to control it. To mitigate this, her grandmother, Sylvara Valtheren, a dark elf skilled in strength control techniques, trained her in meditation. This practice not only helped Arlena manage her strength but also sharpened her focus for education and learning.

  Her training in Luthanyr would be overseen by an ancient warrior, Loryn, known as the Warden of the Glades. A legendary wood elf, he had trained Luthanyr’s royal bloodline for centuries. Some claimed he had lived since the First Great War, over 2000 years ago, his longevity granted by a world-class artifact. Recognizing his unparalleled expertise, Darynth knew that Arlena’s training under Loryn would be essential in mastering both her strength and artifact-handling abilities.

  As Darynth stepped onto the grand balcony of the castle—an expansive landing area designed for dragons—he saw his wife giving Arlena last-minute instructions.

  "Remember to meditate every morning, Arlena. And don’t stay up too late reading!" she chided gently.

  Arlena nodded, smiling slightly.

  Nearby, Daelin, Arlena’s younger brother, leaned eagerly against the balcony’s edge. Rather than approaching Arlena first, Darynth walked up behind his son and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

  "Come on, don’t you want to say goodbye to your sister?" he asked. "And how many times do I have to tell you not to lean over the railing?"

  Daelin turned to him with an exasperated expression. "She’s just going to Luthanyr, Dad. It’s not far. I just want to see Grandpa fly!"

  Darynth sighed. "You and your grandfather… Listen, you’re not going with him. You’re staying here."

  Daelin groaned. "But it’s only an hour! And Grandpa will be there—"

  "Which is exactly why you’re not going," Darynth interrupted. "Do you even remember what happened last time? You and your grandfather went to Navarind without permission."

  Daelin’s face lit up at the memory. "Oh yeah! That was amazing! You should’ve seen it, Dad—Grandpa was flying so high, the mountains looked like tiny specks!"

  Darynth sighed again. Arguing with his son was useless. "You’re not going. That’s final. Do you understand?"

  Daelin slumped in defeat. "Yes, sir…"

  The Skyward Farewell

  Suddenly, a thunderous boom echoed through the sky. A massive shadow streaked across the heavens—it was Caelorian Valtheren, Darynth’s father. In his dragon form, he had broken the sound barrier, soaring at unimaginable speed. On his back sat Sylvara, encased in a protective barrier shielding her from the force of his flight.

  Daelin’s eyes lit up with excitement.

  From a distance, Caelorian seemed no larger than an ordinary dragon, but as he approached, his true size became clear. He was colossal, his form barely fitting on the landing platform. As he struggled for footing, Sylvara sighed in exasperation.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "I told you to take a wyvern form! Look at you now—struggling to land! If you’d just listen for once—"

  Caelorian huffed. "I will never take the form of those lesser creatures. I am a majestic dragon!" His booming laughter echoed across the castle.

  He peered down at his grandchildren with a grin. "Alright, travelers, if you're coming, raise your hands! I’ll be leaving soon."

  Darynth winced. "Not so loud!"

  Arlena stood quietly, unimpressed by her grandfather’s antics. Caelorian turned his massive head toward Daelin and exhaled, creating a gust of wind strong enough to ruffle the boy’s hair.

  Daelin looked up. "Dad’s not letting me go with you…" he mumbled.

  Caelorian smirked. "That’s too bad. But don’t worry—once I return from Luthanyr, we should take a trip to Draconis and see some wild dragons."

  Draconis, a land filled with untamed dragons and wyverns, was considered dangerous to most. But to Caelorian and Daelin, it was just another playground.

  Daelin’s mood instantly lifted. "Yes! That would be awesome!"

  Darynth sighed, knowing full well he couldn’t stop them once they set their minds to something. He turned to Arlena.

  "In Luthanyr, you’ll meet someone like you—a champion. He’ll teach you how to control your strength. And your grandmother will be with you." He smiled at her reassuringly.

  Arlena nodded.

  Despite Caelorian’s immense size, Sylvara signaled for Arlena to join them. With a light leap, Arlena soared high above her grandfather and landed gracefully on his back, her movements effortless.

  Sylvara looked down at Darynth and his wife. "We’ll take our leave. Arenis is expecting us."

  Both nodded.

  Caelorian flared his wings. "Alright! Off we go!"

  With a single, powerful beat of his wings, he launched skyward. The sheer force could have been dangerous for those on the ground, but a protective barrier absorbed the impact. Within seconds, he vanished into the sky, heading toward Luthanyr.

  Daelin waved enthusiastically. "Wow! It’s so cool being a dragon! I can’t wait to learn how to transform!"

  Darynth smirked. "Oh, I can wait. I already have my hands full with one troublesome dragon—I’m sure two will be just great."

  His wife chuckled, then turned to Daelin. "Come inside. It’s windy out here, and you’ll catch a cold."

  As the golden light of the solaris bathed Oryndral, the city of dragons carried on. And with Arlena’s departure, the journey of a true champion had begun.

  The land of Elves and The Shadows of War

  Mylaris was a land dominated by dense, ancient forests. A fragment broken off from the southern continent of Arkanthar—a region so untamed that it redefined the word “primal”—its vast woodlands remained largely unexplored. The ground beneath its towering canopies had never seen sunlight, and legends spoke of secrets buried deep within its wilderness. Despite centuries of attempts, nearly 90% of Mylaris remained uncharted, teeming with dangerous magical beasts and undiscovered intelligent species.

  The few populated regions of Mylaris lay along the western coast and a small southeastern section. The western nation, Luthanyr, the Land of Elves, was home primarily to dark elves and wood elves. Dark elves, driven by a desire for societal advancement, originally founded the nation. However, the wood elves, deeply connected to nature, resisted giving up their sacred forests for civilization. After extensive negotiations and agreements, a compromise was reached—allowing only a portion of the land to be developed, while the rest remained strictly protected. Unlike the untamed jungles of Arkanthar, Mylaris’ forests had been mapped and documented by the wood elves, who had inherited the survival techniques of an ancient world.

  These ancestors of the wood elves had also uncovered the foundational secrets of artifact crafting, passing the knowledge down through generations. This granted Luthanyr a monopoly on third-tier artifacts, an invaluable resource that fueled their economy and made them a crucial player in trade. However, their knowledge also made them a target. Yet, Luthanyr was far from defenseless—it was protected by Ismira, the Goddess of Life, herself a wood elf, and Loryn, the Champion of the Elves.

  For centuries, the sacred forests of Mylaris belonged solely to the wood elves. However, after the fall of Drazhael, the former Dragon God, a new ruler ascended—Zoryn. His existence had been unknown until Drazhael’s death, and his sudden rise to power was shrouded in mystery. Unlike his predecessor, Zoryn lacked the overwhelming power that defined true greater dragons, leading many to believe that he had been chosen arbitrarily. The truth was far more sinister. Drazhael’s descendants had mysteriously vanished, and whispers of a world-shattering event circulated among those who could see beyond the veil of mortal affairs.

  Despite his lesser strength, Zoryn allied himself with Vrykos, the God of War. His first act of conquest was the southeastern region of Mylaris, where he created an isolated domain, sealed away from the outside world by powerful magic. To this day, no one knows what transpires within that forsaken land. The elves, caught in the chaos of the time, could do little but reinforce their own borders, erecting barriers to prevent Zoryn’s influence from spreading into the sacred forests.

  For years, Zoryn remained silent within his domain—until the day the barriers fell. A desperate warning spread across Luthanyr: Zoryn’s army was advancing.

  The situation was dire. Even though Ismira stood as their divine protector, she could not directly intervene. Zoryn, as an ally of Vrykos, was shielded by political intricacies among the gods. Killing him would give Vrykos the excuse he needed to start an all-out war, one that could mirror the devastation of the First Great War and plunge the world into chaos once again. With divine intervention restricted, the only choice left was mortal action.

  The Elven King hesitated. Would the nations of Caltheris—the continent known as the Land of Dragons—truly stand against a Dragon God? Would they risk angering the very deities they revered?

  To his surprise, Oryndral stepped forward.

  At the time, Caelorian Valtheren ruled Oryndral. A fearsome warrior, he wasted no time in leading the dragon forces into battle. The skies above Luthanyr became a battlefield, filled with the thunderous roars of dragons and the relentless resistance of the elven armies. By Caelorian’s command, they overwhelmed Zoryn’s forces, forcing them back to the isolated southeastern lands. However, they stopped short of delivering a final blow—the balance of the world was too fragile.

  The barriers were raised again, sealing Zoryn away once more. The elves re-planted their sacred forests, and Luthanyr slowly began to heal. Yet, the battle made one thing painfully clear—the world built after Drazhael’s death was beginning to crack. If one small war could shake its foundations, then the threat of another great conflict loomed ever closer.

  And this time, the consequences could be far worse.

  Character Details :

  Name : Sylvara Valtheren

  Title : Former Queen of Oryndral

  Race : Dark Elf

  Appearance :

  Personality :