Chapter 8
Lena sat at her modest wooden desk, her quill scratching the paper lightly, casting shadows in the flickering candlelight. Her note to Vincent and Isabelle was concise:
"To Vincent and Isabelle,
I'll be away for the night. No need to fret or seek me out. There's something I must do.
Lena"
She left it on the small table by her bed, trusting they would respect her need for solitude in this matter.
Beyond her window, the sky gradually darkened, and the world seemed to hold its breath as the moon began its ascent.
Then, like a wisp of shadow, Lucian appeared in her room. His presence carried an air of confidence, his lips curling into a faint smile. Yet, beneath that assurance, there was an undeniable tension that hung in the room like a storm about to break.
"Ready for our little adventure?" he asked, extending a hand toward Lena.
Her nod was resolute as she placed her hand in his. In an instant, they left her room, transported to the peak of a remote mountain.
''How will you summon Drogon?'' Lena asked Lucian.
Lucian smiled confidently, ''I'll make the eclipse happen.''
Before Lena could react, Lucian started doing what he just said.
Lucian raised his hands, fingers gracefully weaving through the air. Night responded to his movements. The moon, climbing steadily, began to fade, covered by a growing shadow.
It felt like a curtain drawn across the sky. The moon turned into a deep crimson, casting an eerie glow. Stars that sparkled brightly now paled beside the moon's radiant darkness.
The shift was mesmerizing and unsettling, blurring reality and the supernatural.
Lucian's sorcery had manipulated time and space, bending the heavens to his will. The lunar eclipse had come long before its scheduled arrival.
''What the hell...'' Lena cursed. She couldn't believe what was happening.
As the blood-red moon hung in the sky, Lena couldn't shake a sense of unease. The world had changed, and they stood on the edge of something uncertain. They were poised for their encounter with Drogon, the ancient and vengeful guardian of the night. Lena's heart raced with fear.
As Lena gazed at the moon, a voice boomed through the air, shattering the silence. "You! What have you done?" The voice, deep and wrathful, sent shivers down her spine. She turned to see Drogon, with a combination of darkness and anger.
Lucian, seemingly fearless and unshaken, stepped forward. "We've come to alter destiny," he declared, his voice firm.
Drogon's anger surged like a tempest. "You dare meddle with the natural order?" he roared, his eyes blazing with fury. The ground beneath them shook in response to his wrath.
Fear clawed at Lena's heart, and she could feel the intensity of Drogon's rage. It was as if the night itself had become a malevolent force. The once-beautiful moon now cast a scary light.
Lucian didn't flinch under Drogon's fury. Instead, he stared the ancient guardian down with unwavering determination. "Give us Vida," he demanded, his voice cold as ice.
Drogon's laughter was sinister. "Why should I give her to you?" he mocked. "What will you do if I refuse?"
A dangerous smile curled on Lucian's lips. "Simple," he replied. "I'll kill you."
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Writing My Way Out
FantasyMeet Eleanor, an aspiring writer who knows her way around words but struggles with life's plot twists. One night, as if by enchantment, she finds herself pulled into the very heart of her own story, where fiction and reality meet. Turns out, every w...