Kingdoms of Ohm: The Lonely Dragon #1 ✓

'All Worlds Shall End'

"In brightest night, in blackest light-

A whisper of man calls upon a winter's blight.

When the crisp white frosts of Jorryn glows red

Shall deem thy fate: dragonkind is dead.

And upon the second moon of a humbled summer star-

When the heavens dare crack from a talisman in spar.

The crust shall tremble, and Ohm will descend-

To a beast of pure fire, and all worlds shall end."

Heil fell into despair the moment Vulkar's words ceased. Not a single soul spoke, not even the blood-thirsty devils that crowded my hide just to listen. Poor Luna kept mute; she stilled upon her haunches with two eyes trapped to the rocks beneath her shadow. I couldn't tell if it was anger or annoyance that burned at the werewolf's tuft, but the puffs of air that left her snout aimed to agree to both.

Or perhaps for a greater secret she hoped to conceal.

As for Vulkar, the king vampire lowered his four white wings to join in, his three eyes rounding the dragon at the center of it all. He hoped for a response, a calling, an urge.

But what was I meant to say?

Prophecies were curses of truth, a magic unlike any other. It cannot be reversed. It cannot be changed. May it be a hundred years or a thousand years due time, no prophecy is ever incomplete. How it ends becomes history. Like the cut of a woven string, or the tipping point of a mountain, a fold of paper clipped away by fate. Many have feared prophecies, knowing one foul whisper could doom entire worlds.

And, upon replaying the last phrase spoken, I couldn't help it but shed a whimper. Because now that fearful nightmare was beginning to surface.

"That is... what I know," Vulkar sighed, the pale-scaled vampire slumping down upon his stone throne. "The oracle who spoke it died not long after. Now her words spread across Ohm like wildfire."

Silence again. The gripping echo of nothingness robbed any strand of courage we fought to muster -- even I couldn't fight its horrid cry. My eyes burned, the shock of the hearings all the more reason for me to cower under my wings and wish the world away. Not even Kantar can reprimand this. But the past seemed to say otherwise.

"Our world is ending..."

I echoed Ez'kal's words like an incantation, feeling cold shivers rush down my spiky spine. Vulkar exhaled, glancing at Luna, then returned to me after she failed to look up.

"It may not be so awful..."

"All prophecies finish the same," I muttered, finally staring into Vulkar's red-rimmed eyes. "No matter the action, no matter the risk. Almost as if free will is stripped clean from your clutches."

"But that would go against the laws of nature, wouldn't it?"

"Magic bears no rules, fair Vulkar," I responded, my ear fins dipping against the pike of my horns. "Even if you try your hardest to change the way things are... some events are meant to happen."

"Like a curse?"

"For the whole world," Luna then whispered, keeping her eyes trapped to the ground. "For everyone..."

"In brightest night, in blackest light," I muttered aloud, feeling my heart sink even deeper. "A whisper of man calls upon a winter's blight..."

"I do not know what the prophecy entails, drake," Vulkar clicked to me. "But I figured you may-"