Episode 5 her Awakening

Melisandra’s breath hitched, a trembling thing in the sudden stillness of the storm. The man before her, the one who had ripped through flesh and bone with impossible ease, was a phantom made real, a shadow given form. His eyes, dark and ancient, held a flicker of something that resonated deep within her, a forgotten chord struck in the cavern of her soul. “Neckron,” she whispered again, the name tasting foreign yet achingly familiar on her tongue.

He stepped back, the tempest inside and out subsiding as if at his command. The raw, primal power that had surged through her moments before, the dragon’s fire that had erupted from her very core, now felt like a distant ember, a memory of a wildfire. But the mark on her shoulder… it pulsed with a life of its own, a scarlet and obsidian vine that seemed to writhe and shift, tracing the curve of her collarbone. She reached a hesitant hand to it, a shiver running down her spine.

“You are… you are real?” she stammered, her voice barely audible above the receding rumble of thunder.