12
The darkness that engulfed Draco was cold and impenetrable, a living entity that seemed to devour him, hold him captive, and drag him deeper into its relentless claws. His consciousness wavered, an agonizing cycle of pain and utter emptiness. Yet, even in this state, he could feel the echo of Aelira’s magic—a cold fire coursing through his body.
When he finally opened his eyes, an eerie red light blinded him. It took several seconds for his vision to adjust, and he began to make out his surroundings: an underground dungeon of sorts. The walls were made of dark, smooth, damp stone, as if ancient rivers had carved them over centuries. Strange phosphorescent fungi clung to the ceiling, casting a faint green glow that bathed the chamber in a ghostly atmosphere. But it was the massive crystal at the center of the room that demanded his attention.
The crystal pulsed like a heartbeat, its crimson core wrapped in thin veins of black magic that spread erratically. Its light illuminated the cavern, throwing grotesque, shifting shadows on the floor as if they were alive. Draco could feel its power, an invisible force wrapping around his soul, suffocating him.
He tried to move, but the metallic clink of chains silenced his effort. Looking down, he saw his wrists and ankles bound by heavy shackles. These weren’t ordinary chains; they were inscribed with glowing dark runes that radiated an oppressive cold. He could feel their purpose—to suppress both his physical strength and his magic. Every time he attempted to summon his powers, the runes flared, sending a painful jolt through him.
“Damn it,” he croaked, his voice dry and ragged. His throat burned, and his entire body ached, as if he’d endured endless beatings.
He scanned the room, desperate for any clue as to where he was or how he could escape. Apart from the crystal and the heavy iron door at the far end, the chamber was empty. The door, like the chains, was inscribed with glowing runes. It was clear Aelira had left nothing to chance.
Time dragged on painfully. Draco had no sense of how long he’d been there, unable to sleep or move. The chains bit into his skin, his limbs growing stiff from the cold emanating from the runes. But the worst pain wasn’t physical—it was the uncertainty.
What had happened to Charlie? Had the transport spell worked? Was he safe? Or had Aelira made good on her threats and already found him? The thought of Charlie in danger gnawed at Draco, driving him mad. Over and over, he tried to picture Charlie’s face—the freckles, the mischievous smile, the warmth in his eyes. But the harder he tried, the more the image seemed to slip away.
Draco clenched his jaw. “I won’t give up,” he whispered to himself, as though the words could fortify him. “Not for her.”
The silence was finally broken by the grating sound of the iron door opening. Aelira entered, and her presence instantly filled the room. Her hair, like living flames, glowed brighter under the crystal’s light. She wore black leather armor etched with golden symbols, and around her neck hung a pendant shaped like a tiny phoenix, its wings moving faintly, as though alive.
“Ah, my little dragon is awake,” she said, her voice dripping with false kindness. She approached slowly, each step echoing on the cold stone floor. “How do you feel, Draco? Ready to serve me?”
Draco lifted his head, meeting her gaze with icy defiance. “You can torture me, break me, but I will never fight for you.”
Aelira smiled as though she had expected this answer. “Oh, Draco. How naive. But that’s fine. I have patience. And do you know what’s best about dragons?” She knelt before him, lifting his chin with two fingers so he was forced to look into her fiery eyes. “They can be tamed.”
With a swift motion, she placed her hand over his chest, and a searing pain shot through his body. Draco screamed as his muscles convulsed, feeling as though he were burning from the inside out. This wasn’t ordinary magic—it was something darker, something that reached into his very essence.
“This is the power of the crystal,” she whispered, continuing to inflict pain. “It draws magic from everything around it, amplifies it, and shapes it to my will. Do you know what that means? It means you no longer have control.”
The pain subsided, leaving Draco gasping, his body trembling uncontrollably. “You’ll… never win,” he managed to say through gritted teeth.
Aelira rose, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, Draco. I’ve already won.”
The days—or were they weeks?—that followed were a nightmare. Aelira had him brought to her regularly, subjecting him to the crystal’s power, attempting to break him. The agony was relentless, and every strike, every spell, every whispered taunt was designed to crush his resolve.
But Draco endured.
Though his body grew weaker and the chains felt heavier, his determination remained unyielding. The memory of Charlie—of what he’d lost, of what he had to regain—kept him anchored.
One day, Draco was dragged from his cell and taken to a larger chamber. It was a ritual room, filled with the same malevolent energy as the crystal. The floor was inscribed with ancient magical symbols, and black flames burned along the walls, casting an otherworldly glow without giving any warmth.
In the center stood Aelira, flanked by her Ashen Phoenixes. She smiled as Draco was forced to kneel before her. “Today is a special day,” she announced. “Today, we’ll test the true worth of your blood.”
Draco felt the chains loosen around his wrists and ankles, though he knew it wasn’t freedom. The Ashen Phoenixes stood ready, their wands emanating dark energy. Yet, in that moment, a flicker of hope stirred within him. If they released him, even briefly, he’d have a chance.
Aelira approached, drawing a dagger from her belt. The blade was forged from black metal, etched with glowing red runes. “Your blood will feed the flames of the crystal,” she explained. “It will strengthen its power and make me invincible.”
Draco met her gaze, his golden eyes blazing with defiance despite his exhaustion. “You will never control me.”
In one swift motion, she plunged the dagger into his side. The pain was excruciating, but Draco didn’t scream. Instead, he seized the opportunity, mustering every ounce of strength he had left. With a sudden burst of movement, he wrenched free from the guards holding him, grabbing the dagger still lodged in his side.
With a primal roar, he charged at the crystal.
Aelira shouted something, but it was too late. Draco drove the dagger into the crystal’s core. A blinding flash of light erupted, flooding the room with an overwhelming force. The energy released was so immense that it brought everyone to their knees. Draco felt the crystal’s magic surge through him, tearing him apart and fortifying him all at once.
“No!” Aelira screamed as cracks began to spread across the crystal. “You fool, you’ll destroy us all!”
Draco looked at her one last time, a faint smile on his lips. “Better to die free than live in your chains.”
The crystal shattered in a brilliant explosion of red light, consuming everything in its wake.
Draco didn’t know how long he was unconscious. When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying in a forest, the starlight filtering through the trees above. He was alive but gravely injured. The chains and runes were gone, and the pain was bearable.
The battle wasn’t over—not by a long shot. But for now, he had won. And no matter the cost, he would find Charlie again.