Draconis Mythguard's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Draconis stood in the parking lot outside the arena, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension that had lived there for months. This was it — one tryout, one chance to prove his magic belonged in a real ring. He'd pitched himself to a dozen bookers who looked at him like he was selling snake oil. Tonight would be different. It had to be. But when he stepped through the tunnel into the arena itself, the structure opened up into something impossible. Tiers of seating rose endlessly in every direction, rows upon rows spiraling upward until they vanished into distant light. The crowd noise echoed from a thousand directions at once. A booker with slicked hair grabbed a microphone at ringside and pointed at Draconis. "Ladies and gentlemen, this lizard thinks he's got real magic!" Laughter rolled through the infinite seats like thunder. The booker grinned. "Let's see if his little tricks work when the bell rings." Draconis felt the familiar exhaustion settle into his chest — not surprise, just confirmation. They'd already decided what he was before he'd done anything. He stepped toward the ring anyway, because this was still his one shot, and he'd come too far to walk away from mockery. He lifted the staff from where it hung across his back. The emerald at its crown pulsed once, twice, then flared with green light that washed across the lower seats. The booker's grin faltered. Draconis planted the base against the floor and spoke a single word in the old language. The staff answered. Light coiled up the intricate patterns carved into its length, bright enough that the crowd noise shifted from laughter to something uncertain. The booker lowered his microphone. Draconis didn't smile or gloat. He just walked to the ring apron and waited. They could mock him all they wanted, but now they had to watch what came next.