The King’s Shadow
Beneath the jagged peaks of Dragonbein Ridge, where the winds howled with fury and the air burned with the scent of sulfur, Aryen Jormun paced the cold stone floors of his great hall. His frosted dragon-slit eyes gleamed in the firelight, reflecting his restless ambition. Word had reached him of an ancient dragon stirring in the depths of the ridge, a beast whose power rivaled the legends of old.
“It is said this dragon has waited for centuries,” Aryen mused aloud, his voice a low rumble. “A relic of a bygone age, its strength unmatched. If it serves me, House Jormun will reign supreme over Sheol.”
Across the hall, Lumi, the Azure Devil, stood at attention. His long silver hair framed sharp features, his pastel-blue eyes calculating and cold, and faintly glowing horn tips curving elegantly from his temples. A trusted swordsman of Aryen’s court, he was as deadly as he was loyal.
“Do you doubt my blade, my lord?” Lumi asked, his voice like ice over steel. “This dragon will bow, or it will fall.”
Aryen smirked, his lips curling into a half-snarl. “You misunderstand me, Lumi. I do not question your skill—I rely upon it. Go. Make the beast kneel at my feet.”
Lumi bowed deeply, his hand on the hilt of his blade. Without another word, he turned and strode from the hall, his azure cloak billowing behind him.
The journey to the dragon’s lair was treacherous. Lumi traversed narrow paths carved into the mountainside, the icy winds clawing at his face. Snow mixed with ash from distant volcanic vents, creating a gray haze that obscured the path ahead. The air carried a biting chill, mingled with the acrid tang of sulfur, and the faint, unsettling sound of distant rumblings echoed through the ridge. The crunch of Lumi’s boots against the brittle frost broke the oppressive silence, adding to the sense of foreboding with each step. Yet, she pressed on, his determination unyielding.
By the third day, he reached the mouth of the dragon’s lair, a cavern carved into the heart of the ridge. The entrance was massive, its edges scorched black by ancient flames. Lumi summoned his sword, its blade glowing faintly with the magic of his lineage. He stepped inside.
The lair was vast and suffocating, lit only by the faint glow of molten rivers snaking through the stone. The sound of his boots echoed against the cavern walls, mingling with the low growl that rumbled from the darkness ahead.
Roars of the beast boomed, deep and resonant, shaking the very ground beneath his feet. From the shadows emerged the dragon, its scales a deep obsidian that shimmered like liquid darkness. Its eyes burned like twin violet moons, fixing on Lumi with a predatory intensity.
Lumi stood his ground, his blade steady in his grip. “I come on behalf of Aryen Jormun, Lord of the House Jormun. He bids you kneel.”
The dragon roared once more, a sound that rolled through the cavern like thunder. As if it was in question of what Aryen's rule meant to him.
“A master worthy of your power,” Lumi replied, his voice calm but laced with steel. “Or your end, should you refuse.”
The dragon’s eyes narrowed. It lunged, its massive jaws snapping shut where Lumi had stood a moment before. But he was already moving, his blade slicing through the air with precision. Sparks flew as it glanced off the dragon’s scales, leaving only a faint scratch.
“Your arrogance blinds you,” Lumi said, dodging another swipe of the dragon’s claws. “But even you are not invincible.”
The battle raged, Lumi’s agility and skill pitted against the dragon’s raw power. Each strike of his blade tested the limits of his endurance, and each roar of the dragon tested his resolve. Hours passed, or perhaps only minutes—time was meaningless in the dance of death.
Finally, Lumi found his opening. As the dragon lunged again, he leapt, his blade plunging into the soft flesh beneath its jaw. The dragon roared in pain, its body convulsing as it collapsed to the ground.
Breathing heavily, Lumi stood atop the beast, his blade still embedded in its flesh. “Kneel,” he commanded.
The dragon’s eyes glowed faintly, its defiance waning. It Kneeled before the Devil.
When Lumi returned to Aryen’s hall, the dragon followed him, its massive form causing the ground to quake with every step. The lords and knights of House Jormun stared in awe and terror as Lumi led the beast into the great hall.
Aryen rose from his throne, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “You have done well, Lumi,” he said, his voice heavy with satisfaction. “With this dragon, our power is absolute.”
Lumi bowed, though his expression remained neutral. “The beast kneels, my lord. But its respect is hard-earned. Do not squander it.”
Aryen smirked, stepping forward to place a hand on the dragon’s massive snout. “Oh, I intend to make full use of this gift.”
As the hall erupted in cheers, Lumi stepped back into the shadows, his mission complete. Yet, as he watched Aryen revel in his newfound power, a thought lingered in his mind: what price would Aryen pay for binding a force of such ancient might?
And in the quiet of his heart, he wondered if he had unleashed a shadow greater than his King's.