1st issue

The Tomb Cave

Dan knew exactly why he had ventured deep into the burial caves despite the strict prohibition. What he couldn't understand was why his father had taken his brother on the annual Sacred Expedition to banish the Dragons but had left him behind.

Now was not the time for thinking, though—not when a damp, mold-covered wall loomed over him, and there was nothing beneath his feet. Well, nothing except the abyss, whose bottom his green, fluffy pet, the barachi, still hadn't reached. The levitating furry creature let out an excited squeak and darted ahead to scout, leaving Dan in darkness.

The narrow ledge he stood on was slippery, threatening to send him plummeting for daring to use it as a crossing point to the other side of the cave tunnel. There was no rope, but step by step, Dan carved his own path forward. He had already come too far to turn back now.

Thoughts of his brother wouldn’t leave him alone. Why had their father made that decision? To Dan, it felt like a failure—a humiliation. He and Peter were twins, both sixteen years old. Perhaps it was because of the swamp. The same one that had nearly swallowed their younger sister.

That day, Dan had frozen. He hadn't rushed in to save Vinoa, unlike Peter. His brother had shown courage, pulling their sister from the deadly mire where the sharp-toothed giklas lurked. Their father had valued Peter’s bravery and chosen him as his apprentice.

A small stone, nudged by the tip of Dan’s boot, tumbled into the abyss. A startled squeak followed—it had apparently struck the ascending barachi. The green, fuzzy creature, whose round body was half mouth and square teeth, twisted its lips in irritation before illuminating Dan’s face with its glow.

“Well? Still no bottom?” Dan asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Prrr-ryu-ryu-ryu,” the barachi shook its head, ruffling its tangled fur.

Another worried squeak followed as Dan nearly lost his balance with an unsteady step.

“It’s fine,” the boy reassured himself. “I won’t fall! Just a little more, and I’ll reach the other side of the chasm.”

Beaming with a smile, the glowing creature soared ahead, guiding the way with its green light.

Dan hadn’t come to the cave on a whim. He had taken his grandfather’s map from his father’s chest—though picking the lock had been a challenge. The map revealed the location of the legendary sword, Zhadan. It once belonged to their distant ancestor, who, a thousand years ago, had vanquished the Great Azure Dragon and sealed it within the burial grounds. The Zhadan sword was said to grant its wielder incredible power.

With it, Dan planned to follow his father and brother, to prove he was just as courageous and worthy of the Ipsen noble bloodline.

Making one final effort, he reached the other side of the tunnel. Turning back, he sighed. Sweat drenched his chestnut hair and embroidered shirt. He had come a long way. The barachi, grinning, twirled in the air before floating further ahead, leading him deeper into the cave.

The tunnels were circular with square insets—burial niches holding the ashes of the Ipsen lineage. A noble house, one that had served the king for generations. Now, the king, along with Dan’s father, the head of their house, and other nobles, had embarked on a Holy Crusade to quell the wrath of the Cobalt Dragon.

"Only Peter will accompany me."

Dan recalled his father’s commanding voice at the council. His pride burned. His father saw no worth in him.

“We’ll see about that!” he muttered, pushing aside a curtain of cobwebs.

Beyond it, a glow appeared.

Dan gasped. He had stepped into a sunlit cave chamber. Rays of light filtered through cracks in the ceiling, illuminating boulders carved with ancient runes, inscriptions, and images of massive winged beasts towering over tiny human figures.

“These are dragons?” Dan whispered in awe. He had never imagined their true size.

The barachi, unimpressed by ancient art, licked the wall. Finding it tasteless, he spat on the ground.

At that moment, Dan slipped, landing with a loud crash.

“You stupid fuzzball!” he grumbled, pushing away the concerned floating creature.

That’s when his eyes landed on the object he had come for.

As the legends described, the sword was embedded in a round stone, covered in ancient inscriptions. Dan checked his map—it was exactly as depicted.

"This is it—the long-awaited moment," Dan thought.

At last, he, a descendant of a great man and a scion of a noble house, would be the first in a thousand years to claim the legendary Zhadan sword and harness its power.

He grasped the hilt and pulled.

The stone, coated in centuries of dust, cracked and crumbled. The sword came free easily. Dan raised it high, feeling strength surge through him. Light seemed to flood the cave.

Tilting his head up to admire the gleam of the blade, he was instead met with a shower of dust.

Blinking in confusion, Dan froze. He was holding an ancient hilt, but the blade itself—supposedly forged from enchanted steel—had crumbled to dust.

“What the—?” he stammered.

The barachi flew over.

“Hee-hee-hee-hee,” it snickered.

“The sword turned to dust! Where’s the magic?!” Dan burst out.

Even the barachi grasped the gravity of the situation. The old legends had lied.

Crushed, Dan tossed aside the remains of the blade and slumped against the stone in despair. The barachi’s mouth drooped in sympathy, letting out a low whimper.

"If the ancient sword had no magic, then I really have no chance of becoming a hero and earning my father’s approval!"

In truth, he still felt guilty for not saving his sister that day. Even if stubborn Vinoa had wandered into the swamp on her own…

Before Dan could drown in disappointment, the stone that once held the sword began to glow.

Runes carved into its surface ignited with flame.

Dan jumped to his feet. “What is that?”

Even the usually fearless barachi shot upward like an arrow.

The inscriptions vanished, and cracks spread across the boulder, as if it were an eggshell. The glow intensified until the stone finally shattered.

Steam billowed out, and as it settled, a small hand emerged—decorated with intricate patterns. Then, a head with pointed ears, tiny red horns, and a petite frame. Long, violet hair cascaded down her back.

Dan stared at the tiny, naked girl.

She yawned and turned to him sleepily, blinking her quartz-colored eyes. From behind her, a long lizard-like tail curled into the shape of a question mark.

Dan recalled the words of Master Ing.

"Do not succumb to demonic temptations," his deep voice had warned.

“A demon!” Dan yelped in horror.

The girl furrowed her brows.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked matter-of-factly, placing her hands on her hips.

“Hey, servant! Why are you staring at me like that? Where are my prepared garments and my milk for cleansing?”

…To be continued.