Dragon heir

Dragon heir

I It was a rainy day, but something about it felt… final. I kastiel ryker — once a fallen noble of the House of Rykers, had clawed my way back from disgrace. I rose from the ashes and became king of the world.

And yet, today… I felt nothing.

No joy.

No pain.

No senses.

Just the sound of rain echoing endlessly in my ears.

My eyes began to close, slowly, as a single thought whispered through the fog in my mind:

Why?

⸻

It smells… fishy.

That was the first thing I registered as consciousness returned — a sharp, iron-like scent mixed with something unpleasant. My senses were dulled, but the smell was unmistakable. Light peeked through my tightly shut eyes, and muffled voices rang like distant echoes underwater.

Where… am I?

When I finally opened my eyes, I was blinded — not by divine light, but by a lantern above me, swaying gently. It took me a moment to realize I was being held. Tiny limbs. Soft skin. Warm arms around me.

No.

No, no, no.

I’d been born. Again.

Marble floors. Velvet drapes. Gilded furniture. Everything screamed nobility.

Wait… was i just born?

That explained the smell.

A silver-haired woman in white — a doctor or midwife — leaned over me. Despite the sweat on her brow, she was beautiful. Too beautiful for someone who just delivered a screaming meatball.

“Why isn’t he crying?” she asked, frowning.

“Doesn’t he look like he’s trying to poop?” said the woman I just emerged from — likely my mother.

Oh no. I need to cry.

I forced the most dramatic wail I could manage.

Satisfied, they handed me over to the woman. My mother. She looked exhausted, trembling and drenched in sweat, but when her eyes met mine… she smiled.

“My, my… doesn’t he look just like his father?”

And then — to my horror — she began breastfeeding me.

This was… an atrocity.

Not that I didn’t appreciate the nourishment. But mentally, I was still an adult. A king, even. The emotional whiplash of being very aware while latched onto my mother’s breast was… unthinkable.

A moment later, the door creaked open. A tall man with sharp features and royal bearing stepped inside, wearing fine robes soaked from the rain. My mother’s face brightened the moment she saw him.

“Sorry, love. The gathering ran late,” he said, kissing her forehead and gazing down at me.

Our eyes met.

Something shifted in the air — a pull I couldn’t explain.

This was real. I’d been reborn.

A voice echoed outside the chamber, booming with excitement:

“ The heir of House Ryker has been born!”

That name again… Ryker.

A strange ache stirred in my chest. Not pain, but memory. Ryker — the name I once bore, the name I watched fall to ruin. And now it was being spoken with pride?

But the truth was far more complicated.

My father — Alaric Dragonhart — was once the heir to the Dragonhart line, one of the noblest and most powerful families in the world. His father, my grandfather, was king of an entire nation. Yet to avoid the bloodshed of a brutal succession war, Alaric had cast aside the Dragonhart name… and taken on a new one: Ryker.

And my mother — Elyra — once of House Ryker herself, had married into the Dragonhart line before Alaric’s exile. Together, they had tried to leave their pasts behind.

But fate doesn’t forget.

And neither do I.

I wasn’t just reborn.

I was born into a legacy built on secrets, power… and a name I would one day reclaim.

Not Ryker.

Dragonhart.