Israkur awoke with a jolt. He shook his head slightly as his bleary mind sought to find out what had awoken him. An itching sense of… wrongness pervaded the air. It was almost like the mana of reality itself was silently screeching in agony. Stretching silently, he quickly examined the area. However, even when he looked into the magic spectrum, he found that nothing seemed to be out of place.

His sister Stel, as he had immediately taken to shortening her name, was breathing softly and steadily, still deep in sleep’s hold. There were no sharp noises and he did not remember having any nightmares. The cave was still pitch black and yet, even with all that seemed to be normal, he couldn’t help but have a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that warned him of danger.

He rose slowly to his feet and crept along the narrow tunnel leading to the main cave. On his way there, He walked very carefully, taking great care to not let his scales or claws scrape against the cave floor. As he grew closer and closer to the entryway, the perturbing feeling continued to strengthen until he could no longer deny its existence as a simple trick of his mind. Pausing just before the entrance to the main cave, he noted that the pale flickering moonlight that painted the cave floor had a strange green tint. With dread slowly rising, but nevertheless being stifled by pride and curiosity, he walked out of the tunnel.

A creature stood alone, just outside of the cave’s entrance, sniffing the ground as if seeking a scent that it had just lost. It was a hound, or more accurately said, had once been a hound. Only its empty, bleached white skull remained of its physical body. The creature's limbs and torso were all made from a sickly green energy mixed in with streaks of black fire. Its body pulsed constantly as the two mixing energies fought like two chaotic wildfires meeting.

The creature sent out an aura of fear and horror, slowly corrupting the world around it and creating a dark spot in the magical spectrum. Many would flee in fear from the nature-defying beast. Israkur; however, stood his ground as he could barely suppress his disgust. He had seen those effects a few times in his memories and knew all too well what they meant: demons. And where there were demons, there had to be a warlock to summon them.

Suddenly, the creature turned, spotting him instantly and interrupting his thoughts. Israkur cursed inwardly as it leapt through the air to tackle him. Quickly he slid back into the tight tunnel and took in a deep breath. In one leap, the demon covered the entire distance of the cave and landed landed where Israkur had been standing bare moments before. Upon landing, it immediately turned and leaped forward once again, jaws open wide as it aimed to tear into his throat. Unfortunately for the demon, it had given Israkur enough time to prepare himself.

Finishing compressing the air just as the creature’s fetid breath reached him, Israkur released a mana blast into its widespread spectral jaws. He didn’t expect much to happen. From experience, he had learned that the summoned demons created from void energy and bound through necromancy were nigh impossible to defeat without divine blessings or a massive, coordinated group of evolved beings. Even with this, he had to try. Perhaps his strange mana would buy him enough time to think up a new plan.

Much to his surprise, and relief, his power performed beyond his expectations. Majorly so. When demon and mana blast met, the blast exploded violently as usual. This time however, all of its energy was absorbed by the demon’s cloak of void energy as it sought to defend itself from the attack. The blast immediately began to implode, being drawn into and neutralized by the void mana. Massive amounts of pure energy had poured out of the mana blast; however, and the demon quickly reached its maximum capacity.

The blast wasn’t even halfway consumed.

With its power no longer absorbed by the void energy, the blast exploded once more, shredding through the demonic mana and burning away the skull served as its focusing point in the physical world. With its anchor gone, the entity screeched in agony as the natural mana of the world ripped it to shreds, returning it in tatters to its natural home in the Realm of Ruin.

Unfortunately, the confined space that enhanced the blast’s power also caused it to form a wave of pressure. Israkur’s ears popped and he was blown back a few steps by the sheer force of the compressed air. His pure mana also scorched across his scales, leaving his face tender and blackened. Nonetheless, he was alive.

As he recovered from the aftermath of his blast, he heard a sound that would chill him to the bone: five unearthly howls rending through the air.

Quickly realizing just how close the hounds were, Israkur nearly panicked. One hound had nearly been enough to kill him and he only had enough mana for three more blasts. Beyond that, the two remaining demons would rip him apart and slowly drain him to death. He released a sudden breath and quickly thought of his sleeping sister. As a void dragon, she would hardly be able to fight creatures that also fought by devouring mana. Resolving himself, he dashed back to her now waking form.

“Stel, whatever happens, don’t move from this spot. You hear me?” He practically shouted as he barged in on her.

“Iskur, what's wrong? What happened?” She questioned, panic evident in her voice as she immediately roused herself.

“Void demons, too many of them. I killed one and I’ll lead the rest away to Mother and Father’s cave. They’ll deal with them. Now stay here!”he commanded and turned around. Pausing in the tunnel, he continued with hesitation evident in his voice,”If I’m not back in a few hours, Run to their cave and don’t stop for anything, you hear me?”

“Iskur! Don’t!” Stel tearfully replied as she rose to join him.

“Promise me Stel. Promise that you’ll live.” He answered, ignoring her pleas.

“... I Promise.” she eventually replied, halting in her tracks.

“ Goodbye ... Sister”

And he was gone, never once stopping to hear her racking sobs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Israkur halted at the mouth of the cave for a moment. Roaring a challenge out into the forest, he darted downhill away from both his parents’ cave and Stel. His plan to lead them there had been complete and utter bullshit.

His parents were both evolved dragons, however, at this time they were most likely away or asleep, either way completely unprepared to face demons. Furthermore, his pride played a certain part in his decisionmaking. He had left their cave voluntarily and refused to return with his tail between his legs like a naughty hatchling that snuck out in the night. As he made his way down deeper into the forest, he zigzagged around trees and jumped over roots as he navigated the precarious landscape. Much to his relief, the howls continued to get closer, a clear indication that the hounds were following him and not his helpless sister.

With the first part of his plan a success, he immediately set to planning out step two: surviving the hunt. If the hounds caught up to him, he was dead. If he stumbled into a beast’s path, the hounds would either catch up or the beast would simply swat him, both outcomes leading to death.

Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be many ways to survive. If he managed to outpace them, a very unlucky outcome considering their undead bodies would never tire, they could simply retrace their steps and find his sister. Furthermore, Under exercise this vigorous, he would hardly be able to regain the mana needed to defeat them all. Ultimately, his only option would be to surprise them with his mana breath and kill them all in one strike. Unfortunately, demons, although chaotic and destructive in nature, were not stupid. They would hardly be likely to cluster up close enough for that to work.

Arriving at a fairly flat area, he took a brief moment to look over his shoulder without stopping. Far in the distance, nearly 200 hundred meters back, he saw the first of the demons. Traveling the ground in long leaping strides not at all similar to the manner in which hounds normally move, it seemed to be slowly gaining on him.

It was chilling, but nonetheless wholly expected. They were undead beings of energy and malice designed to hunt, while he was merely a young dragon. If he could fly the situation would of course be completely opposite. In the air, while not as fast as rocs or other beings specifically born to only fly, dragons could move rapidly, crossing unimaginable distances for humans, in but a breath of time.

On the ground; however, it was a different story. Dragons there had two speeds. First was a lumbering walk, and second was the dragon dash. A rather impressive movement, the dash was a four step pace used to surprise opponents, or prey with a sudden burst of speed. Its only problem was that a dragon would overheat and die if he kept at it for too long. A dragon israkur’s size would be lucky to get about thirty minutes before collapsing, unconscious and helpless.

Fortunately, moving downhill let him build up momentum and preserve the greater part of his strength. He knew, however, that it would still not be anywhere near enough.

Even so, he kept running. As he moved deeper and deeper into the forest, the trees grew taller and taller, with greater space in between them. The changing landscape allowed Israkur, no longer forced to dodge obstacles and dangers, to dash forward even faster, slowly pulling ahead of the demons.

Slowly, yet surely, his pace began to falter. His muscles screeched in agony with every step and his ragged lungs took in deeper and deeper breaths, desperately trying to fulfil his body’s agonizing need for air. With his heart pounding and vision narrowing, he began to despair and search for a place to make his last stand.

There was no such place in the flat plateau, but much to his joy, there was something better: a massive gorge.

Fully fifty feet across, it would be impassable for most of the magic beasts in the forest. Israkur was not most beings.

Reaching the very edge of the cliff, he took a massive leap. Pouring all of his remaining strength into his screaming muscles, he launched himself away from the safety of the ground and into the merciless, empty sky.

Rising into the air, he knew very clearly that his leap was not long enough, but still he smirked. Upon reaching the apex of his jump, instead of falling far, far down into the ground below, his wings, which had been tightly furled to keep from tangling or slowing him, opened. While nowhere near large enough to power him into the sky under their own power, they still served well enough to glide.

Gently floating across the canyon, he realized to his sudden panic, that even with his wings, he would not make it far enough. Desperately running through ideas in his mind, he eventually settled on one.

As he fell below the lip of the cliff while still five feet away from it, he pumped his wings forward, making a final lunge to cover the remaining distance. Slamming into the unforgiving stone, he felt his ribs, which had caused him agonizing pain throughout the run even in their nearly healed state, break fully with a torturous crack.

Hissing at the pain, Israkur struggled desperately to catch a grip. Barely managing to dig his claws into the soil at the edge of the cliff, he let himself hang there for a moment, suspended above certain death. He struggled to catch his breath as his shattered ribs throbbed, robing him of rational thought.

Eventually, as he felt his grip begin to give way, he regained his thoughts and quickly scrambled up using his back legs to roll him onto the cliff. Safe at last, He let himself pant and slowly turned his head to look back across the chasm.

There stood his pursuers, 5 hounds in all their spectral glory. Identical in all aspects to the one he had slain at his cave, they exuded a combined aura of terror that reached him all the way across the canyon. He knew that mere geography would not stop them: their master had marked him and they would follow that across the world if they must. Fortunately, the canyon would give him enough time to regain mana and put up a fight more worthy of his status as a dragon.

Comforted by that fact, he was surprised to see a lone raven alight upon the shoulder of the leading demon. Leaning in, It seemed to almost whisper in the hound’s ear causing the hound to stiffen unnaturally. Turning around, it quickly bounded back the way it had come, moving towards Israkur’s sister.

A sinking despair struck him as one by one, the hounds turned to follow their leader into the woods. Struggling to get to his feet, he tried to let out a roar and redirect their focus onto him once more. That effort, coupled with his broken bones, was however too much and all that came out was a bloody strangled gasp.

Collapsing onto the ground, he fell into a fit of agonizing coughing as his lung, pierced by a rib, filled with bloody fluid. As the fit continued, he curled up in a ball and watched as more and more of his sight was covered in red. Slowly, his field of vision began to shrink from the sides as less and less air reached his brain. Finally, he faded away into unconsciousness to the sound of a few light footsteps and mumbled voices…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The human traversing the forest paused, reaching out with his mind to sense the corruption. Last night, when he had finally discovered it, the dark power had split into two sources: a stationary cesspool of ruinous power and 6 slight candle flames. Such a separation ment that a corrupted warlock or necromancer had taken up permanent residency in his forest without him even noticing.

Cursing himself again for his lack of vigilance, he redoubled his pace towards the, now 5 wisps. They were darting across the forest landscape hunting after a strange source of mana. Even with hundreds of years of experience wandering the world and guarding forests at his behest, the druid had never seen it's like.

It actually emitted pure mana, like a mana crystal. Nonetheless, it was clearly moving across the landscape at a good pace, and upon meeting the demons in the early morning, had quickly defeated one.

“What do ya think it’s gonna be sis? Maybe it’s a charming prince blessed by the Gods! Or, or, maybe a special beast that will cultivate and rule the world some day! Oh, what if it’s a reincarnation of a strange being here to duke it out with a demon king like in those stories mom told us!” A tiny voice chirps out from above the druid’s shoulder.

Floating there was a fairy. Almost Doll-like in appearance, she had six paper thin wings on her back beating in tandem almost bluringly fast to keep her aloft. Her hair was a vibrant fiery red streaked with oranges and yellow as it cascaded down to her shoulders. Although miniature, her form was shapely and covered by a thin orange dress woven impossibly finely. Pantomiming a fight with a demon king she was embroiled in flailing around to slay her mighty invisible foe.

“It’s just a golem or some aberration. You know as well as I that those stories aren't real.” A cooler voice chided from the druids other shoulder. Seated perfectly on his cloak was a second fairy, far removed from the first. Her six wings were folded away, running down her back like a cloak and her black hair was cut short falling only to her jaw. She wore a long, sleeveless dress of a cerulean light blue that hugged her body closely.

The orange fae stopped her acting and placed her hands on her hips.

“Aww, You’re no fun!” She replied in a pouty tone of voice. Turning to the druid she continued,” Guardian can you make her stop spoiling everything?”

“I never ‘spoiled’ anything. I’m just being realistic. Of course you had to bother the Revered Guardian with it…” The blue fae replied, turning her head away.

“Oh I’ll show you…” The orange fae angrily made to fly over.

“Girls. There is a time and a place for everything, but the time for your arguments is not now. Besides, we have almost arrived.” The druid interrupted, making sure to tinge his voice with a note of finality.

Both fae fell silent. Even as near children, they could feel the energies of the world around them and were now beginning to sense the strange presence the druid had discovered.

Moving with purpose, the group covered the remaining distance to the figure quickly. Clearing the final vestiges of the forest, they finally discovered its identity.

“A drake?” the orange fairy gasped in awe.

“A terribly injured drake.” the blue corrected.

The drake’s scales were white as fresh winter’s snow, clearly differentiating it from the dusty dirt at the cliff’s edge. It only had one pair of small horns and was smaller than the human guardian, both factors indicating it’s almost newborn age. It was breathing slowly and erratically and the three of them could all feel its life steadily dwindling away.

The two fae turned to the druid. Although they were powerful themselves, he was the Guardian of the forest and would ultimately make the decision on the drake’s survival.

Puzzled the druid stroked his beard as he thought. Prompted by the drake’s diminishing health, He quickly came to a decision. Walking over to the drake, the druid stretched out a hand and gently placed it on the beast’s chest. He quietly whispered an arcane word and let a stream of dark green energy flow into it.

The dragon’s flesh writhed as the bones and organs below slid themselves back into position. Tendons attached themselves to the reformed skeleton and blood flowed back into its veins.

A few minutes passed, but before the healing was complete, the druid was forced to pull himself back. Falling exhausted into the dirt himself he began to pant slightly from running out of mana.

“What happened revered one?” The Blue fae asked worriedly.

“Nothing Eliza, it’s just that this dragon seems to simply shrug off my mana. It took nearly ten times as much mana as it should have to heal him.”

“Truly? Even for one of your skill?” Eliza replied, eyes widening as she looked at the preposterous dragon before her.

“Aye.” the druid answered grimly. “Actually,” he continued,” I didn’t even manage to finish healing him.”

“Astonishing!”

“We should probably kill it now.” The orange fairy chimed in cheerfully.

“What? Why, Ashe?” Eliza asked, shocked.

“He’s a dragon that’s near immune to magic! When he grows up, nothing will be able to stop him. Imagine what would happen if he got mad at us? Poof! No more fae. Worst of all, dragons don’t die of old age! He’ll be around for millennia.” Ashe answered in a voice that still maintained a cheerful tone.

“That’s a stupid argument Ashe and you know it. He’s a white! They are legendary for their honor and patience! No we have to study him, understand what his aberration is…”

“You’re both wrong.” The druid interrupted.”I’d save his life even if he were the most temperamental of reds. It is never right to kill a being for what it might someday become, evevn if the future does justify you a thousand times over.”

Straining slightly, he slung the young dragon over his shoulder, A feat he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to accomplish for much longer, and set off for his camp.

Shrugging slightly at the dismissal, the two sisters followed.