Elven Oath

Chapter 13

Aodhan

S ome of the tension in my shoulders seems to lift as we fully cross over into my homeland. The sight of Sky Castle in the distance, its stone walls reflecting the last light of the setting sun, brings with it a sense of home and familiarity that I’d missed.

I glance behind me at Vevina as we cross the final stretch. She looked exhausted but her gaze was sharp and observant despite everything we’d all been through.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she had saved me during the fight with the wizards, and how she had wielded that strange power that she hadn’t even known she possessed.

It made me see her in a different light. Strong, fierce, and unexpectedly tied to my world in ways neither of us fully understood yet.

The gates opened to welcome us, and as we rode into the courtyard, the familiar scent of stone and earth greeted me. But it wasn’t just the place that felt different. I felt different because of my new wife. I felt an odd sense of possessiveness watching her dismount, as if some instinct within me recognized her as more than just my bride. She was mine in a way that couldn’t be described with words.

My mother, the Queen, was already waiting for us. Regal and calm as always, she stood tall, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall. Her golden eyes sparkled with warmth as she looked at me, but they quickly shifted to Vevina.

For a moment, I see the briefest raise of an eyebrow as she observes the way Vevina smiles at me as I help her down from our mount. But then, her lips curve into a knowing smile.

"Welcome, my son," she says, her voice rich and commanding. "And you must be Lady Vevina. I am Queen Eira."

Vevina bowed her head slightly, clearly still uncertain of her place here. I watch as my mother’s gaze softens as she pulls Vevina in for a small hug. There was no hesitation in her warmth toward my new wife. Perhaps she could see what I had started to see.

"Take her to rest," my mother says, waving her hand toward the waiting attendants. "She must be exhausted. We’ll talk more later, dear."

I watch her go and immediately feel a strange sense of longing. I wanted her by my side, not separated by walls. It was a ridiculous thought, one I quickly pushed aside as Falkor, Drago, and I made our way to the council chamber.

My advisors had already gathered, waiting for updates. As we recounted everything that had happened; the attacks, the wizards, the revelations about the bond between Dragons and Elves, I could see the worry on their faces.

The mention of wizards especially caused a stir, but none of them could remember the last time the Dragons had encountered that kind of magic. It had been long before even my mother’s time.

After our meeting, Falkor suggested we check the library for more information. "There’s something we’re missing," he says, his brow furrowed. "This can’t be the first time wizards have meddled with us."

Our library was a vast, ancient place filled with dusty tomes and forgotten knowledge. The archivist, Eldrin, greeted us with a nod, and when we told him what we were looking for, he disappeared into the depths of the old stacks. Moments later, he returned with a leather-bound journal, worn from centuries of handling.

"This belonged to your ancestor," Eldrin says, handing the journal to me. "Your great-grandfather several generations back. He wrote about the war with the Elves."

Taking the journal from him, I feel the weight of history in my hands. As I flip through the pages, the words seem to jump out at me, recounting all of the events of the war. How it had all started, the tension that had built over the years, and finally, the moment that had sparked the conflict.

There, in my ancestor’s handwriting, was the story of a mysterious man who had kidnapped the last Dragon Princess born of a mate bond. The Dragons had assumed the man was an Elf.

After all, who else could have had the power to challenge them? The Elves had denied it multiple times but war had erupted between our peoples. A war that had nearly wiped out both races.

As I read further, something clicks in my mind. The way my ancestor describes the kidnapper. The way he fought, the strange magic he used. It wasn’t Elven magic at all. It was something darker.

"Wizards," I say aloud, my voice grim. "It was wizards who took her. Not Elves."

Falkor and Drago exchange glances. "Are you sure?" Drago asks, his voice tense.

I nod, my mind racing as I piece it together. "It matches everything we’ve seen. The magic, the attacks. These aren’t Elves. The wizards have been manipulating us all this time, turning us against each other."

The realization sends a chill through me. The war that had torn our races apart had been based on a lie. And now, the wizards were back, trying to finish what they had started.

"We need to warn everyone," Falkor says, his voice urgent. "If the wizards are working with this new race, the humans, they could wipe us all out."

But as the weight of our discovery settles in, my thoughts keep drifting back to my wife. She had wielded magic during the battle, magic that even she hadn’t known she possessed. And now, with this new knowledge, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more to her. Something deeper, tied to the ancient bond between Dragons and Elves.

I close the journal, my resolve hardening. We had more enemies than we had ever realized.

“We need to confirm it.” Drago says, breaking our silence.

“How do we do that?” Falkor asks.

“The prisoner we brought back with us. I watched him closely as we made our way to the castle. He’s definitely not an Elf nor a Wizard.” Drago says.

“Human.” I say through gritted teeth and Drago nods.

With a nod to Eldrin, we make our way to the dungeon. The dimly lit corridors wind beneath the castle like a serpent. Falkor and Drago flank me, their expressions grim.

The heavy iron door creaks open, revealing the stone chamber where the prisoner is held. He is shackled to the wall, his face pale and drawn, yet his eyes still hold a defiance that makes me wary. There’s very little we know about humans.

"Talk," Falkor demands, stepping forward, his voice hard as steel. "Tell us everything."

The man sneers, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "You think you’ve already won? You have no idea how deep this goes, dragon."

Drago’s hand twitches toward his sword, but I motion for him to hold back. This man was the key to unraveling everything. "Why did you attack us? What do you want with the dragons?" I ask, keeping my voice calm, though inside, fury simmered.

He chuckles darkly. "This isn’t just about you. This began centuries ago, with the kidnapping of your precious Dragon Princess. The last one, so I heard."

My jaw tenses. I had read about it in the journal. How the Dragons had believed an Elf was responsible, how that single event had sparked the war that nearly ended both our races. But hearing it confirmed in person made my blood boil.

"The Princess was meant to end it all," he continues, his tone dripping with malice. "Killing her was supposed to end your kind. The mate bonds were severed. No more Dragon children, no more magic to pass on. We thought it would be a slow death, but... you didn’t die off as quickly as we’d hoped."

I felt a surge of anger rise in my chest. So, this had been their plan all along. To drive us to extinction by breaking the most sacred bond we had, the one that allowed our kind to thrive.

Drago speaks, his voice low and dangerous. "You underestimated us."

The man’s eyes gleamed. "Perhaps. What we didn’t account for was the residual magic. The bond still exists in your bloodline. It’s weaker, yes, but it’s there, lying dormant. Every Dragon born since the war has carried a shadow of that power."

Residual magic. The bond, even though broken, still had remnants. Could that explain Vevina’s sudden abilities? The way she had spoken to me in my mind, the magic she had wielded during the battle?

Falkor narrows his eyes. "What does this mean for us now? What are you planning?"

The human grins. "The wizards have been waiting, watching. We’ve allied with them to make sure your kind never rises again. But you and your Elf bride—" he spits the word "bride" as if it were venom in his mouth, "you are a threat. If a child is born of your bond, it could restore the old magic. The Dragons would rise again."

A silence settles over the room as the weight of his words sink in. Vevina and I were at the center of this ancient conflict, a conflict that had been orchestrated long before either of us was born. The wizards as well as the humans wanted us dead. Not just because of who we were, but because of what we could become together.

The implications of this revelation hit hard. If what the man said was true, Vevina and I were the key to the Dragons’ survival. But that also meant we were targets. A child born of our bond could be the salvation of my people, and that made us dangerous in the eyes of our enemies.

The man's grin fades as he realizes the gravity of his current situation. "Kill me if you want," he says, his voice more hollow now. "It won’t change anything. Others will come. And when they do, they’ll finish what we started."

I step closer, my voice low and filled with cold determination. "We’ll be ready."

Turning to Falkor and Drago, I nod. "We’ve heard enough."

As we turn to leave, the man’s strained voice halts me in my tracks.

“Wait,” he rasps, barely lifting his head, but there was a twisted satisfaction in his tone. “The Elf... the princess. Haven’t you wondered why she could wield magic like that? She’s no ordinary Elf.”

I turn back slowly, fixing him with a hard stare. Falkor and Drago remain tense, but curiosity keeps us all rooted to the spot. "What do you mean?" I ask.

“You really don’t know, do you? You don’t know much of anything, do you?” He shakes his head. “That bond between you and her... it’s not just any bond. Her magic—her abilities—they come from something much older, something tied to your kind."

I feel my chest tighten. Vevina had always been different, that much I could sense even before her powers manifested. But what was he implying?

Falkor steps forward, clearly losing patience. “Speak plainly, or you’ll never leave this dungeon alive.”

“You think the Elves were ever capable of such power? No. Their magic, the magic your bride possesses, has been enhanced by something far greater than Elven tradition. It’s draconic in nature.”

I freeze, the weight of his words crashing into me. Draconic magic? Inside Vevina? "That makes no sense. She's an Elf, not a Dragon. How could she hold draconic magic?"

His lips curl into a sly smile. “Because of the ancient bonds between your races. Before the war, before the divide, dragons and Elves weren’t just allies. They were intertwined, bound by bloodlines, by mate bonds. And when those bonds were severed, a fragment of your magic... stayed with them.”

Drago crosses his arms, his brow furrowed in thought. "You mean Elves with Dragon blood?"

“Not exactly. But certain Elves, those born from lines that were once bonded to Dragons, still carry the echoes of that power. It lies dormant, hidden. Until they bond with one of your kind.”

I swallow hard, the pieces finally falling into place. Vevina's strange powers, the way she had protected me with that shield of magic. It all began after we were bound together. It wasn’t a coincidence.

"She awakened because of the bond with me," I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.

He nods weakly, watching me with a sick fascination. “Yes. She’s far more powerful than she knows, but that power comes with a price. If the bond between you deepens...if it results in a child...well... that child could have the strength of both the Dragon and the Elf, enough to restore what was lost to your kind.”

The air suddenly feels heavy around me. Vevina wasn’t just my bride, our bond was more significant than I could have ever imagined. The wizards had feared the return of such a union because of what it represented. A child born from our bond could possess the power to unite Dragon and Elf magic once again. Something that could turn the tide against our enemy’s plot to destroy us.

Falkor’s voice breaks through the tension. “And that’s why you want her dead. Not just Aodhan, but her too. Because together, they’re dangerous to you.”

The man’s silence is all the confirmation we need. I clench my fists, anger boiling beneath my skin. They hadn’t just been trying to stop our bond. They’d been trying to prevent the return of draconic magic in its most potent form.

But Vevina had already started to awaken. Her powers were only the beginning, and if the human was right, those powers would grow. They feared her potential, but they hadn’t counted on how strong she already was.

I moved closer to the prisoner, my voice cold as I speak. “You’ve made a fatal mistake. Vevina is stronger than you could ever understand. And now that we know what she’s capable of, you’ll never get close enough to finish what you started.”

Turning on my heel, I gesture to Drago and Falkor. “We’ve heard enough. Let him rot.”

As we walked away, my mind was spinning. Vevina had no idea what she truly was, what her magic meant. But I did. And now, more than ever, I knew I had to protect her. Not just because she was my wife, but because she was the key to our future; mine, hers, and our entire race.