Kandrakar Magic Files: Dark Lightning Dragon of the Crimson August
The dust of the ancient hall clung to the air like silver thread, floating through the grand chamber of Kandrakar.
Prince Phobos sat on a bench of carved marble, his long, pale fingers laced tightly over his knee. The silence of the hall was suffocating, broken only by the steady, quiet breathing of his sister, Queen Elyon Brown, and the restless tapping of Will Vandom’s boots nearby.
Phobos stared at his own reflection in the polished obsidian floor. Memories, unbidden and sharp, rose to the surface of his mind like ghosts.
“The truth is what you see with your eyes, not what you fear.”
“I am lost, Master...”
“May your heart be your guiding key.”
The words from long ago echoed in Prince Phobos’s mind, spoken in a voice he hadn’t heard since he was a child—before ambition had curbed his soul and turned him into a tyrant. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the echo, but it hung in the air, heavy with regret.
"You're quiet, Phobos," Will said, breaking the silence. She stood near the edge of the chamber's grand archway, the Heart of Kandrakar resting against her chest, glowing with a soft, pulsing magenta light. "Usually, when you're this quiet, you're plotting something."
"Or remembering something," Elyon added gently, placing a reassuring hand on her brother's shoulder. Despite everything he had done to her, the young Queen of Metamoor still searched for the brother she had lost.
Before Phobos could reply, a cold, rasping laughter shattered the solemn atmosphere of the chamber.
“I only gathered the Knights of Vengeance to distract the Guardians!”
Narissa’s voice echoed through the scrying pool at the center of the room. The image within the water rippled violently, revealing the former Guardian turned dark sorceress, her dark magic swirling around her like a storm of ash.
Will stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "Your plan is the dream of every petty tyrant, Narissa! Phobos will take you down!"
Narissa cackled, a cruel, mocking sound that rattled the stones of Kandrakar. Her dark eyes gleamed through the pool's reflection as she held up an ancient, jagged blade that hummed with terrifying power.
"The Sword of Baltanders..." Phobos whispered, standing up slowly. His eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Yes... we have succeeded in the art of far sight. It's here."
"What does she want with that blade?" Elyon asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Phobos pointed to the pool, where the visions were shifting rapidly, displaying a sky torn apart by unnatural darkness.
"The prophecy of Meridian," Phobos said, his voice cold with ancient knowledge. "Orphen will follow in the month of August, when the day sky will darken and black lightning will strike. The monster Meridian attacked a long time ago in the month of August... and history is trying to repeat itself."
Will gripped the Heart of Kandrakar, its light flaring brightly against the encroaching darkness of the vision. "August is now. We don't have time to dwell on what happened back then." She turned to Phobos, her expression stern but determined. "You know how Meridian fought it off the first time. Can you do it again?"
Phobos looked at his hands, then at his sister Elyon, and finally at Will. The fear that had ruled him for centuries—the constant terror of losing power, of being powerless—seemed to shrink beneath the bright, piercing light of the Heart.
The truth is what you see with your eyes, not what you fear.
"I won't let her burn my realm to ashes," Phobos said, his chin lifting as a spark of his old royal resolve returned—not as a tyrant, but as a defender. "The sword demands a dark sacrifice to wake the monster, but far sight showed us her path. We meet her at the Meridian rift before the black lightning strikes."
Elyon smiled softly, summoning her own golden aura of royal magic. "Then let's end this together."
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