The Black Maw loomed on the horizon—a jagged tear in the earth, its edges weeping tendrils of mist that never dissipated. Legends claimed it was not a crater, but a wound, left by the First Dragon's fall from the heavens.
Darian's horse stumbled beneath him, its flanks lathered with sweat. Three days of relentless pursuit, and Sumner's trail had led them here—to the edge of oblivion.
He doesn't know you anymore, the corruption whispered, its voice slick and amused. Why chase a beast that wants you dead?
Darian flexed his blackened hand. The shadows had spread past his wrist now, veins of night threading up his forearm. Every heartbeat pulsed with a foreign rhythm, as if something else's blood moved in his veins.
Seraphine reined her mount beside him, her silver armor dulled by dust. "The cultists called this place 'The God's Grave,'" she said. "No one who enters returns the same."
"I don't care." Darian dismounted, his boots sinking into ashen soil. The air here was thick, metallic. It coated his tongue like blood.
A roar echoed from the Maw's depths—Sumner's, but warped. Deeper. Hungrier.
Darian moved toward the edge.
Seraphine grabbed his arm. "Listen to me. The First Dragon isn't just sleeping down there. It's imprisoned. And if your bond with Sumner is inverted…"
"Then he's not running away," Darian realized. "He's running to it."
A tremor shook the earth. Stones skittered into the abyss, vanishing without sound.
He will wake the Devourer, the corruption crooned. And you will help.
Darian wrenched free of Seraphine's grip. "Then we stop him before he reaches it."
The descent was a nightmare.
The Maw's walls were unnaturally smooth, as if carved by claws the size of towers. Bioluminescent fungi clung to the stone, their sickly glow revealing half-buried skeletons—some human, some not.
Darian's corrupted hand burned the deeper they went. The whispers crescendoed, now layered with a new voice: something vast, something awakening.
Come, it murmured. Come, little king.
A cavern opened before them, its ceiling lost in gloom. Sumner stood at its center, his wings mantled, his gaze fixed on a massive stone seal embedded in the floor. Runes pulsed along its edges—wards, weakening with every breath Sumner took.
"Sumner!" Darian's voice cracked.
The dragon turned. His eyes were no longer gold, but pits of swirling void.
"Darian." His voice was a chorus, layered with something ancient. "You brought me the key."
Darian didn't understand—until the corruption in his hand lurched, reaching toward the seal.
Seraphine swore. "The bond's inversion—it's using you as a conduit. Your corruption is the same energy that binds the First Dragon!"
Sumner's maw split in a grotesque smile. "Break the seal. Let us be whole."
Darian staggered, his vision doubling. The whispers were screams now, the pull unbearable. His knees hit stone.
Seraphine raised her sword. "Fight it, Darian. If that seal breaks—"
Sumner struck.
His tail smashed into Seraphine, sending her crashing into the wall. She slumped, motionless.
Darian couldn't move. The corruption was in his bones now, his hand pressed to the seal against his will. Runes flickered, died.
Sumner loomed over him, void-eyes gleaming. "You were always meant for this."
With a final, shuddering crack—
The seal shattered.
And far below, in the dark, something laughed.