THE LANTERN OF THE LAST SKY

Wind curled like silver ribbons along the cliffs of Asterfall, carrying scents of pine, cold stone, and something older—something the villagers only whispered about when night grew too still. As dawn painted the sky in molten rose, Kael Rowan, apprentice mapmaker, sat on the highest rock ledge with his boots dangling over the abyss.

Beneath him stretched an endless ocean of clouds, glowing as if lit from within by imprisoned stars.

To most, it was only morning mist.

To Kael, it was proof.

Proof that the old legends might be true.

For the hundredth time, he fingered the pendant at his neck—an opal shard etched with runes that no scholar could translate. It had been found with him as a baby, wrapped in nothing but a storm-soaked cloak at the village gate. No one knew where he came from. No one knew who had left him.

But Kael did know one thing:

The pendant pulsed whenever he dreamed of the world beneath the clouds… the lost world.

The world supposedly was destroyed a thousand years ago.

The world of dragons, sorcery, and ancient sky kingdoms.

Kael drew a breath, steadying his racing thoughts. Today was the day he had to choose his apprenticeship path. Mapmakers were needed; the trade was safe. Predictable. Quiet.

But his heart beat to a different rhythm—one that whispered of spells and soaring creatures and prophecies carved in constellations.

“Still staring at the Mistwilds like you’re waiting for them to part?”

The voice behind him was warm, amused, familiar.

Elara Venn, healer-in-training, climbed onto the ledge with her satchel swinging at her hip. Strands of honey-gold hair fell over her eyes as she settled beside him.

“You know they won’t open for you,” she teased. “Not unless you plan to jump.”

“I’m not entirely against that idea,” Kael said. “I want to know what’s down there.”

“Nothing,” she said automatically. “It’s all fairy tales.”

But her tone lacked conviction. Elara loved stories more than anyone. She just feared disappointment more.

Kael opened his mouth—hesitating, unsure how to voice the weight pressing on his chest.

“Elara,” he said quietly, “the pendant… it glowed again.”

She stiffened. “When?”

“Last night.”

“That makes three times this month.” Her brows furrowed. “Kael… you should tell the Council.”

He shook his head. “They’ll lock it away. They’ll call it a relic and forbid me from touching it.”

She couldn’t argue; that’s exactly what they would do.

Kael stood, sliding the pendant beneath his shirt. “I think it’s reacting to something. Or calling to something. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of—”

“Of what?” Elara asked softly.

He turned toward the sunrise, its rays blazing like a prophecy written in fire.

“Something awakening.”

________________________________________

The Awakening

It began with a tremor.

Barely noticeable, like the ground exhaling after a long sleep. Birds rose in startled spirals. Sheep scattered from the fields. Windows rattled.

A second tremor followed, deeper—resonant—as if echoing from the bones of the world.

Villagers spilled onto the cobblestone path, murmuring, gripping each other with pale-knuckled fear.

Kael felt the tremor inside his chest more intensely than beneath his feet. The pendant throbbed against his sternum like a frantic heartbeat. He grabbed it, gasping.

Elara ran toward him. “Kael—your pendant—it’s glowing through your shirt!”

Light seared through the fabric—blue-white, crackling like lightning trapped inside a gemstone.

A sound like tearing sky split the air.

Everyone froze.

The Mistwilds—the ocean of glowing clouds—began to churn, twisting into a spiraling vortex. Winds howled. Lightning laced through vapor.

Something was emerging.

Kael felt the world tilt. He staggered, gripping Elara’s arm.

The clouds parted.

A colossal creature burst through—a creature with scales shimmering like molten dawn, wings that spanned the horizon, and eyes that burned with ancient intelligence.

A dragon.

A real dragon.

Not extinct. Not mythical.

Alive.

And flying straight toward Asterfall.

Screams tore through the village. People fled for shelter. Doors slammed. Smoke from hearth fires twisted in panic.

Kael couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

The dragon slowed, hovering above the cliffside, its wings beating storms into existence. Its gaze locked on Kael—and only Kael.

Elara whispered, trembling, “It sees you.”

No—

Kael realized with bone-deep certainty.

It recognizes you.

________________________________________

The Dragon’s Message

The dragon landed with an earth-shaking thud, folding its wings with a grace that contradicted its size. Its scales flickered like constellations moving beneath skin.

It lowered its massive head.

“Child of the Shattered Sky,” its voice boomed—not spoken aloud, but echoing directly inside Kael’s mind. “The prophecy calls you home.”

Kael swayed. “I—what prophecy?”

Elara held his arm, her body shaking.

“The prophecy of the Lantern of the Last Sky,” the dragon said. “The world below did not die—it sleeps. And you… You are the key to waking it.”

Gasps rose from villagers hiding behind carts and houses. Council members emerged, faces drained of color.

“Dragon!” Elder Mora shouted. “Speak your purpose! This land is protected by decree of the Ancient Pact!”

The dragon’s eyes, glowing like twin suns, narrowed. “Your pact died with the old kingdoms.”

Kael felt something stirring in his blood—heat, light, power he couldn’t comprehend. The pendant blazed so brightly he had to shield his eyes.

The dragon bowed.

To him.

“Kael Rowan. Last descendant of the Starborne Line. Keeper of the forgotten lantern. Heir to what was lost.”

The world spun around him.

“I’m nobody,” Kael whispered. “I make maps. I don’t have… I’m not…”

The dragon rumbled a sound that might have been sorrow. “You were hidden. To protect you. But the wards are breaking. The ancient darkness rises again.”

Elara stepped forward, voice fierce despite her terror. “He’s not going anywhere with you!”

The dragon regarded her. “He will. And you, healer, must follow. The prophecy names three. The Heir. The Healer. And the One Who Walks in Shadow.”

“Elara,” Kael breathed, “that’s you.”

She swallowed. “—I don’t want destiny. I only want…”

Me, Kael thought.

But neither dared say it.

________________________________________

The Descent

The dragon crouched low, inviting them onto its back. The Council screamed protests, ordering guards to seize Kael. But the ground split again—a crack racing through the village square.

A warning.

A promise.

The old world was waking.

Kael grabbed Elara’s hand. “If we don’t go, something worse will come.”

Elara met his eyes—fear, loyalty, and something deeper flickering there.

“Then we go together.”

They climbed onto the dragon’s back. Scales shifted to create footholds. Heat radiated through them like the heartbeat of the earth itself.

“Hold tight,” the dragon thundered.

Wings snapped open.

And they launched.

The wind roared past Kael’s ears as they plunged into the Mistwilds. Clouds swallowed them whole. Electric vapors crackled across his skin. Elara clung to him, her breath warm against his neck.

Below, shapes formed—ruins of towers swallowed by vines… shattered bridges suspended in sky… glowing rivers flowing upward instead of down.

It was beautiful.

Terrifying.

Impossible.

Real.

Kael whispered, voice trembling with awe, “This is the lost world…”

The dragon answered, “This is only the beginning.”

________________________________________

The Prophecy

They landed in a vast valley where crystal trees shimmered in iridescent hues. Strange creatures prowled the shadows—some horned, some winged, all watching with wary intelligence.

An ancient stone arch rose from the valley floor, carved with runes matching Kael’s pendant. He approached, compelled by something deep inside him.

The pendant pulsed.

The runes glowed.

Elara whispered, “Kael… It’s reacting to your blood. Like it knows you.”

The dragon spoke solemnly:

“Touch the arch. Awaken your birthright.”

Kael hesitated. His heart pounded like a war drum. “What if I’m not who you think I am?”

“Then the arch will remain silent,” the dragon said. “But if you are… the world will breathe again.”

Elara touched his shoulder. “Whatever happens, I’m with you.”

He nodded.

And pressed his palm to the stone.

Light exploded outward—white, scorching, endless.

Memories not his own flooded his mind: kings riding dragons… sorcerers weaving starlight… a kingdom suspended in the sky… a shadow swallowing everything.

And a lantern—glowing, fragile, containing the last piece of a dying star.

His inheritance.

His destiny.

When the light dimmed, Kael stood trembling, breathing hard.

The arch was open—its center now a swirling portal of stars.

Elara stared at him in wonder. “Kael… your eyes… they’re glowing.”

The dragon bowed once more.

“Welcome home, Starborne Heir.”

Kael turned toward the star-lit passage, fear and wonder warring in his chest.

Beyond lay a world only he could restore.

A world waiting for its rightful heir.

He took Elara’s hand.

“Ready?” he whispered.

She squeezed back.

“Let’s go fix what the world forgot.”

Together, they stepped into the portal—

And destiny swallowed them whole.