The walls of the small, dimly lit cottage were covered with dusty books and a collection of odd objects, each one seeming to hold secrets from a forgotten time. The old, warped wooden walls looked like the twisted roots of ancient trees, with every crack and knot in the wood telling stories of magic, dragons, and distant lands. Inside, the cabin was a messy refuge, filled with strange and mysterious things. The shelves creaked under the weight of old books, their titles long faded and their spines cracked from years of being used.

  On a strong oak table, a flickering candle cast moving shadows across the room, its light revealing beautiful carvings of flying dragons. The dragons were finely detailed, their scales shimmering in the candlelight, and their sharp claws ready to strike. The floor was covered with quills, ink pots, and crumpled papers, suggesting that the occupant was a quiet scholar. The mess hinted that they had spent many hours studying, possibly trying to understand ancient texts or drawing the very dragons that filled the room.

  In one corner of the cabin, a large, rusted cauldron softly bubbled. The glowing liquid inside swirled as if it was a potion meant to decode the ancient language of dragons. Above the cauldron, jars filled with dragon scales of different sizes were carefully labeled. These were the remains of dragons that had once soared through the sky, their power now preserved in glass.

  Only a little bit of twilight peeked through the old, worn curtains covering the windows, dimming the world outside. According to legend, the cabin was a place of magic, where dragon spirits were believed to whisper through the walls, sharing forgotten knowledge with anyone brave enough to listen. Suddenly, a man’s shadowy figure appeared, as though stepping out from the darkness itself. With a flicker of black smoke in the dim light, his form became clearer, until he stood tall and powerful in the cabin's glow.

  He carried an aura of ancient strength and mystery, wearing a dark, frayed robe that shimmered with a hint of iridescence.

  Elder Ianthe and Elder Thoren, the two leaders of the village Ashenvale, were the focus of his deep, onyx-glinting eyes, which scanned the room with quiet intensity.

  Elder Ianthe, with her long silver hair flowing like a river of moonlight, was an imposing figure. She stood tall and proud, her skin glowing with the wisdom of age. Her piercing blue eyes sparkled with both love and intellect, showing her deep understanding of the world. She carried herself with an elegance that demanded respect, wearing a robe adorned with intricate dragon designs. At her side, she held a twisted staff topped with a glowing crystal, a symbol of her role as the keeper of the village’s ancient stories and traditions.

  On the other side, Elder Thoren had a more rugged, weathered appearance, his strong build showing the many years he had spent working the land and caring for its animals. His beard, untidy and wild, was streaked with silver, much like Ianthe’s hair, and his white hair formed a messy tangle that mirrored the untamed nature around him, giving him a nearly feral, primal look. His earthy brown eyes, deep-set and filled with both mischief and quiet sorrow, hinted at a youthful spirit that still lingered beneath his years.

  Thoren wore simple, durable leather clothing, practical and worn, revealing his preference for function over any form of decoration. His skin, rough and weather-beaten from countless days spent under the open sky, bore the marks of a life lived close to nature. He moved with the ease of someone who truly understood the land and its creatures, and his knowledge of healing and the natural world was clear from the small pouch he always carried, filled with plants and herbs. It was obvious that Thoren’s wisdom came not from books, but from the earth itself and the countless experiences he had gathered throughout his life.

  "I just got back from Eldenwood, elders," Cassian said, pulling his hood back and speaking to them, revealing a tired face that, in the flickering candlelight, looked much older than his years. "We need to talk," he muttered. The worry etched deep into his features became even more pronounced as the shadows moved across his face. "Our troubles have become much worse."

  Elder Ianthe, who sat next to Thoren, asked, "What news did you bring, Cassian?" She spoke with steady calm, though a flicker of concern shone in her sharp gray eyes. Her deep green robes, embroidered with silver thread that sparkled in the light, were neatly arranged as she smoothed out the wrinkles.

  Cassian lowered his voice to almost a whisper, glancing around the cabin. "It’s not good. There was a disturbance in all four realms when Elder Mara spoke of danger. But it seems the human realm was her main concern."

  Elder Thoren shifted uncomfortably beside Ianthe. His mind raced with possible solutions, desperately searching for a way to save the realm that had been attacked by mysterious forces. He lifted his head and locked eyes with Cassian, giving him a reassuring nod. "How did you know this?" he asked, his voice steady and calm despite the unease in his expression.

  Cassian took a deep breath before responding. "There, she spoke with one of the chiefs."

  Elder Thoren leaned forward, thoughtfully brushing his beard, his brow furrowing with concern. "Danger? Whose? The human realm? It's been weeks since we last heard from them. What could be happening there?"

  Cassian paused, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "Chaos. Elder Mara spoke of creatures crossing the borders—monsters we’ve never seen before. It felt like their struggles were made worse by something much larger, something… converging." He glanced at Elder Ianthe, then back at Thoren. "This sounds bad, doesn't it?"

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Elder Ianthe nodded slowly, her expression grim. "Yes. If what you say is true, Cassian, our world is in great peril. And if the dragonkin are involved…" Her hands trembled slightly as she scowled and shook her head, clearly troubled. She paused, taking a moment to collect her thoughts, her face becoming more thoughtful. Finally, she asked, "Do you think they meant to invade us? We’ve done nothing to provoke such aggression."

  Cassian hesitated, his troubled expression deepening. "There had been something... off. I wasn’t sure if it was just me or if it was the rumors—" He shrugged, glancing away for a moment, clearly unsettled. "But they seemed determined to take everything we hold dear. We were being hunted—even in our own home!" His voice cracked with panic as he remembered the terror he had felt in Eldenwood, his body trembling as the memories resurfaced. "And this new threat… it felt… bigger than anything we’ve faced so far."

  Elder Ianthe frowned, her sharp eyes searching the shadows as she asked, "But why would the humans let such chaos grow? They’re not known for inviting danger."

  Elder Thoren crossed his arms, resting a finger on his lips as he carefully considered Cassian’s words. "Maybe they thought they could fight back by invading. They certainly tried, but in the end, they didn’t stand a chance." A look of sadness crossed his weathered face. "That’s why I feared this elemental convergence might succeed in its goal… They might be stronger than us and have been preparing for millennia. We’re just a few old souls left to defend the world…" His voice trailed off as he fell silent, deep in thought. He had always seen dragons as benevolent beings, creatures with no evil intent. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if their very goodness had led them down a dark path, one that could spell disaster for them all.

  Cassian shook his head, frustration seeping into his voice. "That’s the mystery. Elder Mara believed something was corrupting them from within—factions rising, each with its own agenda. The borders became a battleground." He glanced toward the window, as if he expected to see dark figures approaching the village. He shivered, the memory of battle flashing before his eyes. He knew how it had ended: bloodstained and lifeless. He had witnessed the massacre of his own clan, his comrades fighting desperately to protect innocents from the dragonfolk's onslaught. That day still haunted him, the pain as sharp and fresh as if it had just happened.

  But even in the midst of the pain, Cassian felt something else—a fire burning through his veins. Strength surged within him, as if the power he had fought with had never truly left. The memories of suffering had given way to a sense of renewal, a strange clarity. Despite the exhaustion, the feeling of being healed after the battle had left him able to breathe once more. The pain had faded quickly, but the rush of adrenaline still surged within him. He fought against the growing numbness and weariness, pushing away the exhaustion that threatened to pull him under. He refused to let weakness control him. There were still warriors to face, and he would not falter.

  With the dragons now on the move and their enemies closing in fast, it was clear they needed to act quickly to prepare. The dragons were far from weak, but that didn’t mean they could afford to sit idle while the humans launched a full-scale assault. They had managed to survive the attacks so far, but the odds were still stacked against them, and their defenses were fragile at best. It wouldn’t crumble because of exhaustion—they couldn’t allow it. There was already enough to contend with; battling warlords and monsters was nothing compared to the potential threat the humans posed. If they wanted to defeat this evil force, they would need every bit of power they could summon.

  Elder Thoren stared into the distance, his thoughts racing. "If they’re in turmoil, that could throw the balance off in all realms. But how do we reach them without provoking their wrath?"

  Cassian’s unease was clear as he spoke, his voice tense. "Elder Mara suggested we send envoys, but she was worried. The humans might not welcome us right now. The tension was thick."

  "Sending envoys could make things worse. We'd risk becoming a target ourselves," Elder Ianthe muttered, rubbing her temples as the weight of leadership pressed down on her.

  Elder Thoren’s voice dropped to a whisper, a serious concern creeping into his tone. "There’s something more, isn’t there? Mara didn’t just fear for the humans. There was something darker at play."

  Cassian nodded slowly, his heart heavy. "Yes. She hinted at whispers of an ancient force awakening—something connected to the convergence. If that’s true, we have no choice but to act."

  The elder nodded grimly, taking a long moment to collect his thoughts. He understood the risks Cassian had spoken of, the dangers that came with sending envoys to confront such an unknown threat. But the alternative—doing nothing—was no longer an option. The other elders had made the choice to stay silent and hope for a better future many times before. But the threat of the elemental convergence wasn’t going away. They would have to face it, whether they were ready or not.

  Elder Ianthe inhaled deeply, steeling herself. "We cannot ignore this now. If the elemental convergence has amplified this darkness, it could tear apart the very fabric of our realms."

  Elder Thoren, his eyes burning with determination, leaned forward. "Then we must gather the council. They need to hear this. But we must tread carefully."

  "I’ll speak to them, but I’m worried about the path ahead. There are forces at play that we don’t yet understand," Cassian stepped forward, his urgency clear in every word.

  Elder Ianthe placed her hand on Cassian’s shoulder, her grip firm. "We will find them," she said, her voice steady with confidence.

  He glanced briefly up at her, offering a small smile, before turning to look at Thoren, who had been watching them closely. Cassian swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. "They were trying to help," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "All I wanted was for everyone to live freely and be happy."

  Elder Ianthe squeezed his shoulder tightly before pulling back, nodding with understanding. "We will make them proud, Cassian," she whispered, gently squeezing his hand in assurance before letting go.

  Her voice remained unwavering as she continued, "Knowledge is our weapon. We must prepare for what’s coming, even if it means facing the unknown."

  The dimly lit cabin shifted from a quiet refuge to a war room. The two elders exchanged determined looks, the weight of their mission settling on them. The flickering candlelight stretched shadows across the room, each one seeming to pulse with the gravity of the conflict ahead. The air itself felt heavy with tension, and the dark corners of the room seemed to echo with the looming dangers. They understood now: the fate of all realms rested in their hands.