Dragon summoner

Then, something unexpected happened.

The glow from the blade dimmed. It began to shrink — the metal folding in on itself like silk in the wind. The blue light spiraled down the blade, twisting and curling until, in mere seconds, the sword had disappeared.

In his hand now... was a pen.

A simple-looking pen. Black, sleek, and unremarkable — except for the faint dragon insignia still etched near the clip.

"What the—?" he breathed.

He clicked it. Nothing unusual. He uncapped it — normal ink tip.

But the moment he held it up, the pen pulsed faintly in his hand.

His eyes widened.

"It's... the same energy. The sword's inside this thing. It is the sword..."

His mind raced.

A weapon that could hide in plain sight. Something no one would ever suspect.

Power disguised as the most ordinary tool.

He smiled — not out of arrogance, but realization.

"I'm starting to understand now... This isn't just about power. It's about knowing when to show it... and when to hide it."

He rushed into his room, heart pounding, and threw himself onto the bed. Sleep eluded him—his mind kept spinning around the strange egg and the ancient sword he had taken from the storeroom. Restless, he pulled the egg from his bag and gently placed it on his chest, its cold surface oddly comforting. Slowly, exhaustion crept in, and his eyes drifted shut.

But it didn't last long.

A strange noise pierced the silence, rousing him from a restless slumber. His eyes blinked open. Morning light flooded the room—but something felt wrong. Very wrong.

There was another sound—this time from behind him.

He turned his head slowly, tension tightening his body—and froze.

Something was flying. At first glance, it seemed like a large insect. "A fly?" he muttered groggily. But as his vision sharpened, dread flooded his chest.

No. Not a fly.

Flames were erupting from its mouth.

He stared in disbelief as the creature hovered mid-air, small but fierce—its wings beating with furious energy. Without warning, a burst of fire shot toward the window, setting the curtains ablaze.

Panic surged through him.

He leapt from the bed and rushed toward the fire, grabbing a towel to smother the flames. Smoke curled into the air, and his heart raced as he beat at the burning cloth.

"What... what is this thing?" he gasped, struggling to make sense of what he had seen.

Then it struck him—something from the depths of ancient legends, something he had only read about in stories.

"A... dragon?" he whispered in awe, his eyes wide. "Why is it here?"

The egg. The sword. The voice in his dreams.

Everything was starting to make sense—and that terrified him more than anything.

He stepped back slowly, eyes locked on the creature now hovering near the ceiling. It was small—no larger than a house cat—but its presence filled the room like a storm brewing in the sky. Midnight-black scales shimmered in the morning light, and its narrow, glowing blue eyes watched him with unsettling intelligence.

The dragon tilted its head.

Vishu's breath caught.

It wasn't just looking at him—it was studying him.

His legs trembled, but something in him—a strange sense of calm—held him steady. He clutched the small egg, now warm and pulsing faintly in his hand. Had it… hatched? Was this what came from it?

The dragon opened its mouth again. He flinched, expecting fire—but instead, it let out a soft, almost musical growl. Then, to his shock, it flew straight towards him.

Vishu stumbled back and fell onto the bed, shielding his face—

But nothing happened.

No fire.

No pain.

He dared to look.

The dragon had landed at the foot of the bed, curling its tail around itself like a cat preparing to nap. Its sharp gaze had softened, and it looked almost… content.

"What… do you want from me?" Vishu whispered.

The dragon blinked once. Then, with a sudden inshimmer of light, something strange happened—the sword lying on his bedside table began to glow faintly. A deep hum filled the room, like the sound of a distant storm. The dragon's eyes flicked toward it, then back to Vishu.

He understood.

The egg. The sword. The dream.

It was all connected.

"You are not alone..."

The voice from the dream echoed again in his mind, clearer this time.

"You are the destined one. The protector. The chosen."

His heartbeat quickened, not from fear, but from something else—destiny stirring inside him.

He looked down at the dragon. "Then it's true," he whispered. "You… you chose me."

The dragon let out a low, approving growl and nudged its head against his hand.

In that moment, Vishu knew—his life was no longer ordinary.

It had just begun.

Just as Vishu began to process everything—the dragon, the dream, the sword—a loud knock shattered the moment.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

He quickly tucked the dragon beneath his blanket. The creature stayed still, almost as if it understood the urgency.

The door creaked open before he could say a word.

His stepmother stood there, perfectly composed, but her eyes... they gleamed with something cold. Something cruel.

"Good morning, dear," she said sweetly, stepping into the room without invitation. Her voice was honeyed, but her smile didn't reach her eyes.

Vishu's body stiffened. He didn't trust her. Not after everything.

She closed the door gently behind her and walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps.

"You look pale," she said, eyeing him carefully. "Still shaken from everything that's happened, I suppose.

So much drama, hmm? Murder accusations... confusion… heartbreak."

He didn't respond. He just watched her warily.

Then her expression shifted. The warmth vanished. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper.

"You know, I was counting on this mess to break you."

Her smile returned—twisted, triumphant.

"And guess what? It almost did."

Vishu's heart pounded. "What… what are you talking about?"

She laughed softly. "Oh, darling. Don't play innocent. I know your father still wants to believe in you. But after what happened, the world already sees you as unstable… dangerous. If I say something now, anything—he'll believe me. Not you."

His breath caught. "You planned this?