The Ytherrian Luminary

Years passed in the quiet, ancient forest of Ytherra, but for the Drakkan, time was felt differently than it was by other races. Xalin Drakaar, now a youngling, had grown rapidly under the watchful gaze of his mother and the elders. His pitch-black scales, unique among the Drakkan, gleamed ominously, reflecting the prophecy that surrounded his existence. But Xalin was not just a symbol of destiny he was a force growing more potent with each day.

The young Drakkan stood on the edge of the Scarlet Falls, a towering cascade that poured molten lava from the heights of the Aethral Mountains. It was one of the few places in Luminara where fire and water mixed, a dangerous and volatile landscape where only the strongest dared to train. The air was thick with heat and the sharp tang of sulfur, making breathing difficult for anyone unaccustomed to the extreme environment. But for Xalin, this was home.

Focus. The deep, commanding voice of his mentor, Thyraxor, echoed across the rocky plain. Thyraxor was one of the oldest living Drakkan, his scales a deep crimson, each one etched with the runes of a thousand battles. His wings, though scarred and tattered from combat, still carried the regal strength of a true warrior. He had been tasked with training Xalin since his scales had first darkened, recognizing the weight of his potential.

Xalins eyes, glowing faintly with the power of elemental magic, narrowed. He steadied his breathing, pushing the molten heat from his lungs and drawing from the energy of the surrounding landscape. A soft tremor ran through the ground beneath his feet. His tail lashed in anticipation, and then he took his stance a low crouch, his wings tucked close to his body, his claws digging into the charred earth.

In the blink of an eye, Thyraxor moved. His massive form was a blur, leaving a trail of embers in his wake. Xalins sharp instincts kicked in, his body reacting faster than his mind. He leapt to the side, just as Thyraxors talons slashed through the air where he had been standing. The wind from the elder Drakkans movement sent shards of molten rock scattering across the plain.

Good, Thyraxor rumbled, circling Xalin like a predator. But not good enough.

Before Xalin could respond, Thyraxor unleashed a devastating attack. His claws ignited with fire, and he brought them down in a powerful arc, intending to end the spar in a single blow. But Xalin had been ready. His body twisted, and from his mouth, he released a stream of dark flames his Nightfire, a magic exclusive to him as the prophesied Nightscale. The fire was not like normal flame; it was cold and eerie, absorbing the light around it rather than casting any glow. 

The black fire collided with Thyraxors fiery attack, and for a moment, the two powers warred against each other. The clash sent a shockwave rippling through the air, bending reality for a split second as both elements tried to overpower the other. Then, with a violent crack, the magic shattered, sending both Drakkan flying backward.

Xalin landed hard, skidding across the molten ground, but he quickly rolled to his feet. His heart was pounding, and the scales on his chest were warm from the brief exposure to Thyraxors flames. Despite the impact, Xalin felt exhilarated. His magic had held, he had stood his ground against the strongest warrior in the clan.

Thyraxors laughter echoed across the battlefield, deep and rumbling like distant thunder. So, the Nightscale has teeth after all.

Xalins chest heaved as he caught his breath. Im not as weak as you think.

Thyraxors expression darkened. Its not your strength I question, Xalin. Its your control.

Before Xalin could respond, Thyraxor was on him again, his speed even greater this time. Xalin barely had time to react, raising his claws to block the oncoming strike. The force of the elders blow knocked him back several feet, but Xalin dug his claws into the ground, using his tail to anchor himself. He could feel the intense heat radiating from Thyraxors body as the elders power surged.

Xalins mind raced. He needed to think Thyraxor was testing him, pushing him to his limits. The elder Drakkan wasn't just looking for strength, but strategy. Xalins power alone wouldnt be enough to defeat him.

Gathering his magic, Xalin let his Nightfire ignite again, but this time, he kept it close, wrapping it around his body like a cloak. The flames swirled around him, creating a shield of dark energy that absorbed the heat of the surrounding lava.

Thyraxor's eyes narrowed as he observed the shift in Xalins stance. Clever boy, he muttered.

Xalin didn't wait for another attack. He lunged forward, his wings snapping open as he shot into the air. With a roar, he unleashed a torrent of Nightfire down at Thyraxor, forcing the elder to dodge. But Xalin was already anticipating the move. In the split second that Thyraxor evaded, Xalin spun in midair, his tail whipping out with incredible speed. The tip of his tail, coated in black flame, struck Thyraxor square in the chest, sending the elder Drakkan crashing into the ground.

The impact shook the entire plain, sending cracks splintering through the molten rock. Xalin landed heavily, his wings folding behind him as he approached the fallen warrior. Thyraxors body lay still for a moment, but then, with a groan, the elder Drakkan pushed himself up, dusting the ash from his scales

A slow smile spread across Thyraxors face. Youre learning.

Xalin grinned, his chest swelling with pride. Does that mean Ive passed the trial?

Thyraxors smile faded slightly. This was just a spar, Xalin. The real trials are yet to come.

Later that evening, as the two Drakkan returned to the village nestled within the protective canopy of Ytherra, Xalins thoughts were filled with questions. The prophecy of the Nightscale had followed him his entire life, but no one ever spoke of what his destiny truly entailed. The elders were always vague, offering cryptic hints about the importance of his power, but never revealing the full truth.

As they entered the village, the other Drakkan warriors gave Xalin approving nods, acknowledging the strength he had shown during the spar with Thyraxor. Xalin noticed their gazes linger on his black scales, the whispers of his destiny evident in their eyes.

Do not let their praise get to your head, Thyraxor warned as they walked through the village. Your path will be far more dangerous than theirs.

Xalins gaze shifted to his mentor. You've trained me for years, but you've never told me what the prophecy actually says. What am I supposed to do?

Thyraxor stopped, his expression hardening. That is a question only the elders can answer. But be warned, Xalin the truth may not be what you expect.

Before Xalin could press further, a figure appeared from the shadows. It was Elder Azhur, one of the oldest and most revered Drakkan in the village. His scales were a deep, shimmering silver, and his eyes glowed with ancient magic. 

"Xalin, Azhurs voice was like the whisper of wind through the trees, soft but filled with authority. It is time.

Xalins heart raced. Time for what?

To learn your destiny, Azhur replied, his eyes gleaming with the weight of the knowledge he carried. The trials begin tomorrow.

---

That night, as Xalin lay beneath the canopy of Ytherra, staring up at the shifting colors of the sky, he couldn't shake the feeling that everything in his life was about to change. The prophecy of the Nightscale had haunted him for years, but now it seemed closer than ever. The trials would reveal his true purpose, but at what cost?

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft growl from the edge of the village. Xalin sat up, his eyes scanning the darkness. For a moment, all was still. Then, in a flash of a moment a beast, larger than any Xalin had ever seen, darted through the shadows.

Instinctively, Xalin leapt to his feet, his Nightfire already swirling around his claws. But before he could react, the beast disappeared into the trees, leaving only a trail of smoke in its wake.

Was that... a Morgathian Hunter? Xalin whispered to himself, recognizing the distinctive silhouette of the deadly creatures that roamed the wilds of Luminara.

But something was wrong. Morgathian Hunters never ventured this close to Drakkan territory. They were apex predators, feared by even the strongest warriors, but they were also intelligent creatures that avoided unnecessary conflict.

Xalins heart pounded in his chest. The trials hadn't even begun, and already, something was stirring in the shadows of Luminara.