NOVEL WEB A New Journey
The great dark forest of Tivaria loomed vast and mysterious, a realm pulsing with magic. Towering trees with gnarled branches formed a dense canopy, shrouding the forest floor in shadow. Glimmers of bioluminescent flowers dotted the landscape, illuminating the darkness with their eerie glow.
Magical creatures roamed freely, from the elusive shadehounds prowling the underbrush with eyes that glowed faintly in the dark, to the graceful winddrakes weaving through the treetops, their wings nearly invisible against the night sky. Down below, tiny mosslings scurried among roots and rocks, their leafy bodies camouflaging them perfectly. Overhead, stormrays drifted lazily, their transparent forms crackling softly with energy, lighting up the forest floor in brief flashes as they moved.
In this enchanted yet perilous forest, a tiny blind baby girl lay abandoned, wrapped in a tattered piece of cloth that did little to shield her from the chill of the night. She was alone, disoriented, and confused, her world engulfed in darkness. The cold air bit at her skin, and a deep sense of vulnerability washed over her as she instinctively curled into herself, her tiny body trembling.
Overwhelmed by her new environment, she felt an unsettling weight pressing down on her, the magic of Tivaria thick and suffocating. She whimpered softly, the sound swallowed by the rustling leaves and distant animal calls. When she finally opened her mouth to cry out, her wails echoed through the stillness, a desperate plea for comfort in an unfathomable world.
The noise shattered the tranquility, rousing a dragon from its deep slumber in a colossal cave nearby. Its massive form stirred in the darkness, and as it opened its deep red eyes, irritation flickered within them. Scales of the darkest black shimmered with hues of deep blue and purple, glinting like stars as it stretched its immense body.
“Who dares disturb my peace?” it growled, annoyance lacing its voice as it rose to its full height, an imposing figure that could rival the very mountains. The dragon stepped to the edge of the cave, peering into the night, and scanned the forest, confusion knitting its brow.
“What is that noise?” it muttered, perplexed, straining to pinpoint the source of the disturbance. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, yet the cries grew louder, grating against its nerves.
“Enough!” it bellowed, its voice rumbling like distant thunder. “Whoever you are, show yourself!”
The cries only intensified, pulling the dragon closer to the edge of its cave. It glanced up, then left and right, its patience waning. Finally, it directed its gaze downward and spotted a tiny figure sprawled on the ground. “What is that?” it asked, bewildered, as it approached the edge of the cliff. The small creature was emitting a sound that aggravated its annoyance.
The baby girl, no more than a few hours old, continued to cry, her blind eyes scrunching shut in distress. She felt the earth vibrating beneath her as the enormous creature approached. Panic surged within her, and instinctively, she cried out louder, her wails filled with fear and desperation.
“What is this little nuisance?” the dragon wondered aloud, its deep voice reverberating through the ground. “Why can’t it be quiet?”
With a frustrated huff, the dragon nudged the baby away from its cave entrance with a gentle but firm push of its claw, hoping to end the disturbance. But the cries persisted, growing louder and more frantic, only aggravating the beast further. “Why won’t you be silent?” it growled, weighing its options. “Perhaps I should just eat it to eliminate the noise.”
As the thought crossed its mind, the dragon opened its massive jaws, preparing to silence the racket this tiny creature caused. “A meal would be easy… No more crying,” it mused, instincts sharpening, a dark thrill racing through it. Yet just as it prepared to snap its jaws shut, something shifted within.
The baby sensed the immense presence above her. Though she didn’t understand the danger, instinct took over. Liquid dripped from the dragon's mouth, landing on her. Being a hungry baby, she instinctively began to drink, thinking it was the solution to her distress.
The dragon blinked in confusion, caught off guard. “What are you doing?” it thought, bewildered. “Drinking my saliva? Does it not know how dangerous I am? I am a dragon god!” A mix of irritation and bewilderment coursed through it as the enormity of its own power felt suffocating, trapping it in a moment of indecision.
Yet, in that bizarre moment, the cries ceased, and the dragon found itself pondering the peculiar situation before it. It closed its mouth, hoping to rid itself of the annoyance. But the silence didn’t last; the baby’s wails erupted again, louder and more insistent.
“I can’t take this!” it roared, its irritation bubbling over. “Why won’t you just shut up?”
As the baby’s cries grew more desperate, something inside the dragon stirred, resonating with a raw emotion it couldn’t ignore. “What am I doing?” it muttered, the weight of her innocence pressing down on it. If it couldn’t eat her, it thought, perhaps it should leave her to someone else to deal with. With a reluctant sigh, the dragon bent down and gently picked her up with two of its massive claws. “Fine, I’ll drop you off somewhere else. Someone else can deal with your racket,” it grumbled, trying to convince itself.
Soaring into the dark sky, the wind whipped around them as the dragon flew deeper into the forest, its mind racing. Once, it had been the Dragon God of War, inciting conflict among the constellation gods in a bid to impose a democratic leadership style and seize control as the head of the pantheon. Its actions had led to chaos and strife, and as punishment, the other gods had blinded it in one eye with divine fire, casting it down to this dark forest, sealing it away from its former power.
Now, it was burdened with an unwanted responsibility, one it had never anticipated. Reluctantly, the dragon descended into a clearing at the heart of the forest. As it placed the baby gently on the ground, she instinctively curled into a ball, frightened by the sudden shift in her surroundings. Her cries resumed, small and trembling.
“Great,” the dragon thought, rolling its eyes. “More noise.”
It wanted to pretend it didn’t care, to ignore the echoes of her distress that resonated in its heart. Yet as the wails filled the air, an unfamiliar tug at its heart began to form—this helpless infant, blind and alone, had stirred something within it long thought dead.
“Damn it!” it growled under its breath, an internal conflict raging within. “Why does this little creature affect me so much? I should just leave her to fend for herself!”
But as it turned to leave, the cries grew louder, piercing through the wall it had built around its heart. It couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility weighing on its shoulders. “What am I doing?” it muttered. “I can’t just leave her like this.”
With a powerful leap, it swooped down just in time to intercept the advancing creatures—predatory monsters lurking in the shadows, drawn by the scent of vulnerability. “Back off!” it roared, its voice echoing through the trees, instilling fear in the monsters. They scattered, retreating into the darkness, knowing they had encountered something far more formidable.
As the dust settled, the dragon glanced down at the tiny girl, who had finally quieted, her exhaustion overwhelming her fear. In that moment of silence, it felt a strange sense of protectiveness wash over it. “What am I going to do with you?” it sighed, struggling to reconcile its instincts.
With a soft rumble, it took her back to its cave, uncertain of what the future held for them both. Settling into the shadows of the cave, the dragon couldn’t shake the feeling that this unexpected connection would change everything.
The cave, once a refuge, now felt like a strange mixture of sanctuary and confinement. The dragon had reveled in its solitude, but now it found itself caring for an infant who had somehow pierced through the defenses of its heart. Laying the baby gently on a bed of soft moss and scattered leaves, it created a makeshift cradle. The dim light filtering through the cave entrance illuminated her features, and for the first time, the dragon took a moment to truly look at her.
She was tiny and fragile, a small miracle of life amid the darkness. Its heart ached at the sight of her, alone and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the fierce and powerful being it had once been. It was a reminder of its fall from grace, the power it had wielded now replaced by the weight of responsibility.
“What have I done?” it muttered, shaking its head in disbelief. It had meant to rid itself of the annoyance, yet here it was, feeling an unexpected sense of duty toward this child. It leaned back against the cool stone of the cave wall, body tense as it contemplated the choices ahead.
As the night deepened, the baby finally succumbed to sleep, her cries giving way to soft, contented coos. The dragon watched her for a long time, its thoughts a turbulent storm. It had once sought power and dominion; now, it was protecting the smallest and weakest creature in the forest.
“What will become of you?” it whispered, not expecting an answer. In the silence, it felt a flicker of hope, something long buried beneath layers of anger and regret. It would not allow the darkness of this forest to claim her. Whatever path lay ahead, it was determined to forge a connection with her, to offer the protection she needed.
With that vow echoing in its mind, the dragon settled deeper into the shadows of the cave, now a reluctant guardian in a world filled with chaos. For the first time in ages, it felt a flicker of purpose ignite within, intertwining their fates in ways neither could yet understand.