Dragon Soul Script -

"The balance is tilting," Kaelen whispered. Below his tower, the kingdom of Oakhaven was freezing. A perpetual winter, conjured by a rogue sorcerer, had turned the soil to iron and the rivers to glass.

The dragon’s presence surged. Kaelen didn't fight the heat; he welcomed it. He finished the final curve of the glyph—a jagged, soaring line that looked like a wing in flight. Dragon Soul Script

Kaelen dipped his brush into a well of molten obsidian. To save the valley, he had to scribe the glyph for Ignis Aeterna —Eternal Ember. But the Script was a living thing. If the scribe’s heart wavered, the ink would consume them. "The balance is tilting," Kaelen whispered

In his mind’s eye, a Great Gold dragon opened its eye. “Why do you seek our fire, little spark?” a voice thundered in his blood. The dragon’s presence surged

Kaelen collapsed, his hand stained black and smelling of smoke. The scroll was now blank, its energy spent, but the air in the room was finally warm. The Dragon Soul had listened, leaving behind nothing but a single, charred scale on the desk as a reminder of the price of warmth.

"Because the hearths are cold," Kaelen gasped, his sweat vaporizing into steam. "And a child’s breath should not come out as frost."

The ink didn’t just sit on the parchment; it pulsed. Master Kaelen stared at the ancient scroll, his eyes stinging from the candlelight. This was the , a forgotten language where every character was forged from the literal breath of the First Drakes. It wasn't meant to be read with the eyes, but felt with the spirit.