Jade's world had returned to laughter and noise fires crackled, hunters laughed around mugs of ale, and the scent of freshly cooked meat wafted through the air as the sun dipped beneath the trees.
But even as he smiled and accepted pats on the back, the voice still lingered in his mind.
It hadn't been a dream.
Something had spoken to him.
And that something wasn't done yet.
The celebration moved into the main hall, filled with lanterns and candlelight. Dancers moved between tables, musicians played old hunting songs, and plates stacked with roasted meat and seasoned vegetables were passed around with cheer. Jade's mother had outdone herself preparing the feast.
But Jade couldn't relax.
Even as he sat at the head of the table next to his father, accepting birthday wishes and playful jabs from his siblings, his thoughts kept drifting back to that one moment of silence in his room. That voice. That presence.
It hadn't felt demonic. It hadn't felt celestial either. It had felt... old.
Too old to belong to any spirit he'd ever known.
---
Later that night, the celebrations ended. The guests had trickled away into the darkness. The mansion was quiet again.
Jade stood alone on the roof, looking out across the moonlit forest.
Then it came again.
> "You're listening now."
The voice was clearer this time. Not booming like before, but deep, resonant—like a stone dropped in still water.
Jade tensed. "Who are you?" he whispered.
> "You carry me, yet ask who I am. Curious."
Jade's grip on the railing tightened. "Are you... the dragon?"
> "A piece of it. A whisper. What remains after time forgets names."
Jade's throat went dry. "Why now?"
> "Because the first seal broke last night."
The words struck like thunder in his chest.
> "You felt it—when the earth stilled. When the wind stopped breathing. That was the beginning."
Jade's thoughts raced. "What do you mean seal? I don't understand—"
> "You will."
And just like that, the presence vanished again, leaving behind a bone-deep chill that no breeze could explain.
---
The next morning, Jade woke with a start. He was covered in sweat, his breathing shallow. He barely remembered falling asleep. His dreams were fragmented—images of mountains crumbling, skies turning green, and voices chanting in languages that no longer existed.
He knew one thing.
That voice wasn't done with him.
---
Downstairs, breakfast was already being served. His mother was humming softly as she placed sweet rolls on the table, his younger siblings still half-asleep, grumbling as they reached for cups of hot tea.
Jade slid into his chair quietly, glancing around. His father wasn't there.
"He left early," his mother said, not looking up. "Said he needed to meet with the village elder."
Jade nodded slowly.
He'd tell him later.
Maybe.
---
Later that day, Jade rode into the village square. The market was alive as usual, but there was an edge to it today. People spoke in whispers. Guards stood in tighter formations near the watchtower. At the center, a notice board was filled with fresh parchment, all with the same word burned across the top:
MISSING.
Jade dismounted and pushed his way to the front.
Six names.
Six hunters.
All missing since last night.
He scanned the notes. No signs of struggle. No bodies. Just gone.
The final name on the list made his blood run cold—Tara Lyan.
Tara had taught him to track footprints when he was twelve. She was family, even if not by blood.
Jade turned away from the board, jaw clenched, heart pounding.
Something was happening.
And he couldn't ignore it anymore.
---
Back at the mansion, he found Kieran waiting for him near the stables.
In his human form, Kieran looked like he always did—tall, silver-haired, with those sharp eyes that always seemed to see a little too much.
"You heard, didn't you?" Jade asked without greeting.
Kieran nodded. "Six missing. No blood. No screams. No signs of a fight. Just gone."
"You think it's demons?"
Kieran shook his head. "No demonic scent. No celestial residue either. Whatever did this... was ancient."
Jade stiffened. "What do you mean 'ancient'?"
Kieran paused. "Something I thought had gone extinct a long time ago. Something older than Heaven. Older than Hell."
Jade looked at him, his voice low. "The voice I heard… it said a seal broke."
Kieran's expression changed subtly. His usual calm was replaced by something darker. Worry.
"You heard that voice?" he asked.
"You know it?"
"I know of it." Kieran looked toward the forest. "Jade, there's a reason the green dragon hasn't been reborn for a thousand years. Because the last time it awakened fully, the world nearly ended."
Jade stepped closer. "So what am I supposed to do?"
Kieran met his gaze. "Be ready."
---
That night, Jade sat with his sword laid out before him, the pendant from his mother resting beside it.
He meditated again.
And again, the voice returned.
> "The second seal will break soon."
Jade didn't react. He was calmer now.
"Where?"
> "You already feel it. In your blood. In your bones. Follow it."
---
Three nights later, the village bell rang just after midnight.
Jade was already awake.
He had dreamed of fire.
And green eyes.
He threw on his cloak and ran down the hall, passing his sleeping siblings, heart hammering as he grabbed his blade and sprinted for the courtyard.
Martin was already there, armor half-buckled, barking orders to the guards.
"We have a breach near the eastern gate," he said without turning. "One of the watchmen said the trees started glowing."
Jade didn't wait for permission.
He was already moving.
---
The eastern gate was a mess. Half the guards stationed there were unconscious. Not dead—but deeply asleep, breathing shallow, sweat pouring from their foreheads.
The trees were glowing—soft green pulses like slow heartbeats, stretching up their trunks in jagged veins of light.
And in the middle of the clearing beyond the gate stood a single figure.
A girl.
She wore a cloak of moss and stone, her hair a tangle of vines. Her eyes—when she looked at him—glowed with the exact same hue as the trees.
Jade stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The girl tilted her head. "One of the keys."
"What?"
"The second seal," she said calmly. "It breaks tonight."
And then the forest erupted.
Roots burst from the ground, twisting and slashing like whips. The trees themselves groaned and leaned inward, forming a cage of living wood around Jade and the girl.
Guards screamed behind him. Arrows flew—but the girl didn't move. The arrows never touched her.
Jade reached for the pendant on his chest. The green dragon inside him stirred.
And for the first time, it didn't just whisper.
> Let me fight.
Jade didn't answer.
He stepped forward instead—just a boy with a sword, surrounded by chaos.
"I don't care who you are," he said. "You're not hurting my people."
The girl smiled. Not cruelly—but almost...sadly.
"That's the problem," she whispered. "You still think this is about you."
And then the second seal shattered.
Not with a sound—but with a feeling.
Every tree in the forest pulsed once with blinding green light—and then went still.
The girl vanished like mist.
And Jade dropped to one knee, clutching his chest as something ancient and furious stirred inside him.