Long before the kingdoms of dragons carved their dominions into the skies, before fire lit the mountains of Embercrag and storms crowned the peaks of Zepharion, there existed a prophecy whispered only in the breath of the oldest winds.

It spoke of two forces—opposing, eternal, and fated to collide.

One born of ember and crown, destined to command the fiercest of flames.

One born of storm and sky, destined to wield the tempests of the heavens.

For centuries, the prophecy remained a far-off murmur, dismissed as myth. Fire dragons ruled their blazing lands with pride and unshaken might. Storm dragons soared through thunder-ridden skies, untouched, untamed. They had no reason to meet. They had every reason never to.

But fate rarely heeds the comfort of separation.

On the night of the Twin-Star Eclipse—a night foretold once every thousand years—the winds shifted. A silver moon rose over the border cliffs where the fiery ridges met the storm-worn mountains. There, beneath the charged glow of night, two young dragons stood upon opposite cliffs, drawn by a force neither could name.

A breeze swept through the chasm between them, carrying sparks from one side and crackling static from the other.

Eyes met—amber to lightning-blue.

Not in hostility.

Not in fear.

But in a quiet recognition neither understood, yet both felt carve itself into their hearts.

For the first time in history, fire did not rage against storm, and storm did not strike against fire.

In that breath of stillness, destiny awakened.

The meeting of Kaelthyr of the Ember Throne and Aerisyl of the Tempest Spire would unravel ancient beliefs, challenge the laws of their kind, and ignite an echo that would shake the skies of every kingdom.

Because the prophecy had never been about war.

It had been about a bond powerful enough to change the fate of all dragons.

And on that moonlit night, the story began.