The Storm Tower | Vol.4, The Eldenarian Artifacts ✓

33.

Someone must've been listening to Sebastian's prayers because House Doragon had exactly one Stormkiller in their ranks. And it was currently being housed within Koishi. His luck picked the perfect time to present itself.

There was only one issue: the dragon wasn't tamed.

They kept it locked in a cave enchanted to take on the appearance of a frozen wasteland—fitting with icicles, snow, and the works. Sebastian nearly broke his neck navigating the frosty cave in hopes of luring the creature out. He'd brought Dorian along, leaving everyone else behind at Castle Braexus. If anyone could help him communicate with the animal, it was the man who could turn into one. Besides, he practically begged to come along.

Deep in his soul, Sebastian knew the werewolf needed to be included. The prophecy called him a guardian. He wanted to test that theory.

Entering the frozen cave deep in the forests surrounding House Doragon's hidden city was one of the scariest things he'd ever done. And his life was chock full of scary moments. Battling his father, getting poisoned, visions of Mauvorin, battling his father again. But nothing compared to walking into the den of death itself.

It took every ounce of courage he had to venture deeper into the dragon's pit.

The first part of the Stormkiller he saw was its eyes. They were the purest form of blue he'd ever seen. They sparkled like sapphires and stood out against its scaly, white body. When the dragon poked its head through the shadows, Sebastian nearly screamed. But he didn't. He held his nerve and looked it right in the eyes. He swallowed his fear—and his pride—and dropped to his knee.

Upon arriving in Koishi, House Doragon's dragon experts gave him and Dorian a crash course on how to potentially tame a Stormkiller. The teleporting beasts didn't respond to the usual forms of dragon coercion. Food, gifts, and shiny objects meant nothing to them. They were extremely intelligent. And rather finicky.

For these reasons, the dragon riders opted to steer clear of them.

But Sebastian needed the dragon.

The creature was the only thing that could get him to Makaela and his father. Dragons could fly at nauseating speeds, but Stormkillers were in a class of their own. To navigate the tempests they hunted in, they developed the ability to teleport using the magical essence of their flames. They'd unleash a torrent of blue fire large enough for them to fly through and use it to jump through storms.

Sebastian planned on using this ability to shorten the trip from Japan to Nepal by a few hours. He knew it'd take a while, but it would be significantly faster than flying straight across.

To ride the dragon, he had to submit to it.

So, he kneeled there in that cave, with ice digging into his kneecaps, waiting for the dragon to make a move. Dorian stood a few feet behind, his eyes wider than boulders as he watched the scene. Sebastian hissed at the werewolf to follow suit. He did.

The Stormkiller crept forward, sniffing the air as if trying to latch onto the fear emanating from their tiny bodies. Its sapphire eyes scanned his body, combing through his very soul. Sebastian gulped and prayed to the gods to save him. The dragon's face stopped its face inches away from his, its rotten breath pouring from its half-open mouth. Flesh and blood were all he smelled. His nose scrunched at the scent, but he remained rooted to the spot, never breaking eye contact with the creature.

The dragon needed to know his life was in its hands. Or, rather, claws.

"Why is it looking at you like that?" Dorian had asked him.

"Shut up," he hissed.

After what felt like eons, the Stormkiller tilted its head upward. It opened its mouth and blasted blue fire toward the stalactite-covered ceiling of the cave. Rolling waves of azure surged across the ceiling, the bright flames licking downward like the tongues of monsters. It flapped its wings, creating torrents of air that nearly knocked the two cowering young men off their feet.