Page 39 of Elven Oath

"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.

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