4: Darken War

22: Alexandria

Chapter Twenty-Two: Alexandria (Expanded)

The gem pulsed in my hand—warm, ancient, alive.

Once, it had been called many names: the Gem of the King, the Mind Stone, the Great Dragon's Eye. People spoke of it in whispers and legends. They speculated, theorized, even feared it. But no one truly understood what it was.

Not even me.

I stared into the glowing violet core, its depths swirling like a storm on the sea. Something inside it stirred, and something inside me answered. My heartbeat slowed, my breath caught in my throat.

I closed my eyes.

And let go.

The world dropped away like a cloak sliding from my shoulders. The cold stone beneath me disappeared. I fell—not physically, but inward. My knees may have hit the floor, but my spirit plunged far deeper, breaking through walls I hadn't known were there. Barriers of pain. Of memory. Of forgotten lifetimes.

I fell into gold and fire.

Images exploded behind my eyes—soundless, dreamlike, burned in light and color. My soul trembled. And then...

Stillness.

I stood in a hall of fire-veined stone.

A throne room I had never seen—and yet I knew it better than any place I'd ever been.

The Kingdom of Ignisfatia.

The ancestral heart of dragonkind.

The ceiling soared far above me, vaulted with bones of long-dead beasts and veins of living flame. Lava pulsed beneath translucent black glass floors, illuminating runes etched in molten metal. Obsidian pillars rose like trees, each engraved with the names of our ancestors. The heat was intense—suffocating—but familiar. A comfort I had forgotten.

The air itself trembled with power. I could smell scorched stone, ash, the iron tang of blood and fire. I felt ancient. Whole.

And on the throne—our father.

The Dragon King.

He wore fire like a mantle, his scales gilded in gold and obsidian, his gaze sharp enough to silence thunder. Around me knelt my sisters—beautiful and terrible, armored in silver-white, each bearing wings and horns of divine make. But my eyes went to the one standing beside the throne.

Alexander.

My breath caught.

Golden horns swept from his temples. White and gold wings folded behind his back. His armor shimmered—not the one I had seen him wear in this life, but the very same dark and silver armor Theo now bore. His eyes were younger, but the soul in them was unmistakably his.

He stood as I did.

Not a twin born of chance, but a soul that had shared mine since the beginning.

We were both the Great Dragon.

"You two are my strongest children," our father said, his voice a low rumble that shook the hall. "When I die, one of you will take the throne."

I—she—stepped forward. "But both of us cannot rule."

"Indeed," the king said, rising to his feet. "The two of you will fight to the death. Only one may ascend."

"No," Alexander said, voice low but unwavering. "I refuse. I will give the throne to my sister freely. She is stronger than I am."

The King scoffed. "You are not two dragons. You are the Great Dragon. One soul. Two bodies. And the world must see you as separate—distinct. We must end the myth."