Three years passed in the blink of an eye.
Eldarion, heir to House Talas, grew healthy and strong—but not in the way the noble court expected.
From the moment he took his first steps, the boy moved with grace beyond his age. His words came early, and when he spoke, people listened. Not because he was loud—but because his voice carried a weight that made even seasoned knights fall silent.
His golden eyes never dulled, and neither did the rumors.
"Dragonblood," whispered the cooks."A blessed soul," said the priests."Too perfect," muttered a few jealous nobles.
But within the walls of the Talas estate, Eldarion was treated with love. His mother, Elira, read to him from ancient tomes. His father, Elon, taught him sword stances with a wooden practice blade far too large for his small hands.
And through it all, Eldarion smiled.
He laughed, he played, he studied—yet inside him pulsed the fire of destiny.
🌬️ It began with wind.
One afternoon, as Eldarion stood alone in the garden, a heavy gust struck the estate. Trees bent, windows slammed, and petals whipped into the sky.
The servants ran to close the shutters—until they noticed something strange.
At the center of the storm, the boy stood still. Perfectly calm. His hair fluttered around him, eyes closed, arms spread as if embracing the sky.
And as quickly as it came, the wind stilled—dropping everything gently at his feet.
"It was just a summer gust," one of them lied.
But they told the steward. The steward told the lord. And the lord, though he said nothing, began to watch his son more closely.
🌱 Then came the garden.
Lady Elira had given Eldarion a small patch of land to tend. She expected weeds, or broken stems from careless hands.
But instead—flowers bloomed.
Unseasonal blossoms, some not seen in Draconia for decades. Herbs not native to their land. A tree that should not have grown.
"Did you plant these?" she asked him once.
Eldarion shrugged. "I just wanted them to grow."
She laughed and kissed his forehead.
But that night, she wrote to a scholar-priest in secret.
⚔️ The moment that changed everything...
It happened on a hunting trip. Elon had taken his son to observe from a distance—a family tradition for noble boys.
They were atop a ridge when the boar charged.
A massive one, feral and crazed, too fast for the guards to react in time. It burst through the brush, heading straight for Eldarion.
The boy didn't flinch.
He raised his hand.
CRACK.
Lightning split the sky.
When the guards looked again, the boar lay unconscious—steam rising from its scorched flank.
No burn touched Eldarion. Not a mark.
"Father..." he said quietly. "I didn't mean to."
Elon fell to one knee before his son. Not in fear. But in awe.
🧙 A new figure enters: Ser Alrik, the Court Scholar
The following week, an elderly man arrived at the estate—stooped but sharp-eyed, wrapped in blue-gray robes marked with ancient runes.
"I've studied prophecies for sixty years," he said to Elon in private."I've seen many false claims. But never have I seen a child so... aligned."
Ser Alrik requested to remain as Eldarion's personal tutor. To watch. To guide.
To prepare.
"Prepare him for what?" Elira asked.
"For the time when the dragons return."
💤 That night, in his room...
Eldarion dreamt.
He stood on a cliff, overlooking a sea of stars. In the distance, a golden eye opened in the sky—massive, ancient, familiar.
"Soon, young one," came a voice."The blessings will awaken fully. And the world will remember who you are."
Eldarion opened his eyes in the dark.
His breath fogged the air.
Outside, the wind howled.