The mountain was still breathing.
Musha could feel it.
Not with her eyes.
Not even with her ears.
She felt it beneath her feet.
A slow vibration.
Then another.
Thump.
Musha’s fingers tightened around her wooden staff.
The ground trembled.
Leaves rustled somewhere behind her. Birds scattered from the trees, their wings beating wildly against the cold morning air.
But Musha didn’t move.
She stood at the edge of the forest, blindfold covering her eyes, listening to something that nobody else seemed able to hear.
Thump.
The vibration traveled through the soles of her feet.
Into her ankles.
Her knees.
Her chest.
Her heart.
It was almost like another heartbeat.
Only this heartbeat was enormous.
Grandma Hana stood several steps behind her.
“Musha.”
Musha didn’t answer.
“Come back.”
The girl tilted her head.
“Do you feel it?”
Hana’s expression tightened.
“Feel what?”
Musha pointed toward the mountain.
“That.”
Silence.
The wind moved through the trees.
Hana’s hands slowly curled into fists.
“I don’t feel anything.”
Musha frowned.
“You do.”
Hana didn’t answer.
“You felt it yesterday too,” Musha continued. “When we were training.”
“Musha.”
“You told me the mountain was old.”
“It is.”
“You said there were caves beneath it.”
“There are.”
“But you never told me what’s inside.”
Hana looked toward the mountain.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then—
Thump.
The ground trembled again.
This time, Hana felt it.
Her eyes widened.
Musha smiled faintly.
“You felt that one.”
Hana’s face became pale.
“Inside.”
Musha’s smile disappeared.
“What?”
Hana stepped toward her.
“Go inside the house.”
“Grandma—”
“Now.”
Musha had heard fear in Hana’s voice before.
But never like this.
She turned toward the house.
Then stopped.
Something had changed.
The forest had gone completely silent.
No birds.
No insects.
No wind.
Nothing.
Musha slowly raised her head.
There was a strange pressure in the air.
Something was approaching.
Not from the forest.
Not from the sky.
From below.
Her breath caught.
And then she heard it.
A voice.
Deep.
Ancient.
So low that it seemed less like sound and more like the mountain itself speaking.
“White Shadow.”
Musha froze.
Her hand tightened around her staff.
“Grandma?”
Hana stared at her.
“What did you hear?”
Musha swallowed.
“Someone called me.”
Hana’s face drained of color.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
The voice came again.
“White Shadow.”
Musha’s body shivered.
She could feel something beneath the earth.
Something enormous.
Something that had been sleeping.
Waiting.
Watching.
“Who are you?” Musha whispered.
Hana grabbed her shoulder.
“Don’t answer it.”
Musha turned toward her.
“Why?”
“Because it isn’t calling for you.”
The voice came again.
This time, the entire mountain shook.
“I have waited…”
Rocks fell from the cliffs in the distance.
Hana pulled Musha against her.
”…for eight years.”
Musha’s heart stopped.
Eight years.
Her age.
She slowly pushed herself away from Hana.
“Grandma…”
Hana said nothing.
“What does it mean?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“Musha—”
“You know what that thing is.”
Hana’s eyes hardened.
“I know enough to know that you must stay away from the mountain.”
Musha’s expression darkened.
“You knew.”
“I knew there was something beneath it.”
“You knew it could speak to me.”
“I didn’t know it would.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were a child.”
“I’m not a child anymore.”
Hana looked at the blindfold covering Musha’s eyes.
“No.”
Her voice became quieter.
“You aren’t.”
Musha stepped closer.
“What is White Shadow?”
Hana looked away.
“Nothing you need to know.”
“Then why did it call me that?”
Hana didn’t answer.
Musha’s voice trembled.
“Is that what my mother called me?”
Hana’s eyes suddenly snapped back toward her.
Musha noticed.
She always noticed.
Even without sight.
“You reacted.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“Musha.”
“Tell me.”
Hana’s jaw tightened.
“Your mother gave you many names.”
“Which one was White Shadow?”
Hana remained silent.
Musha’s hands began shaking.
“You told me my mother died when I was born.”
“She did.”
“Then how could she know that name?”
Hana’s face softened.
“Because she gave it to you.”
Musha stopped breathing.
The forest seemed to disappear around her.
“What?”
Hana closed her eyes.
“Your mother believed you were destined for something.”
“Something what?”
“Something dangerous.”
Musha’s voice became almost a whisper.
“What am I?”
Hana opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Then—
A sudden burst of pain shot through Musha’s head.
She dropped her staff.
“Musha!”
She grabbed her temples.
Images exploded inside her mind.
A woman crying.
Fire.
A newborn child.
A glowing stone.
A pair of swords.
And behind all of it—
Two enormous eyes.
Red.
Watching.
Musha screamed.
The ground beneath her cracked.
White light erupted from her body.
Hana stumbled backward.
“Musha!”
The light spread around the girl like smoke.
It wasn’t fire.
It wasn’t lightning.
It moved like flowing silk.
White energy curled around her arms, her shoulders and her twin blades.
Musha dropped to one knee.
“Make it stop!”
Hana stared in horror.
“Musha, listen to me!”
“I can’t!”
“Control your breathing!”
“I can’t!”
The white energy surged.
The trees around them bent away from her.
Leaves rose into the air.
Dust spiraled around her feet.
Musha screamed again.
Then—
Everything stopped.
The energy vanished.
The forest became silent.
Musha remained on her knees, breathing heavily.
Her hands trembled.
Hana slowly approached.
“Musha.”
Musha didn’t respond.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
She touched her chest.
“But…”
“What?”
Musha swallowed.
“I could feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“Myself.”
Hana frowned.
Musha looked down despite knowing she couldn’t see.
“Something came out of me.”
Hana knelt beside her.
“You released your power.”
Musha touched her hand.
“My power?”
Hana hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Why have you never told me?”
“Because I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
Hana looked toward the mountain.
“From yourself.”
Musha’s expression hardened.
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I do.”
Hana sighed.
“The power inside you isn’t ordinary.”
Musha waited.
“It has been passed down for generations.”
“From my mother?”
“Before your mother.”
“How far back?”
Hana looked toward the distant peaks.
“Farther than this kingdom remembers.”
Musha felt a coldness move through her.
“Why was I born with it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying again.”
Hana looked at her.
“I don’t know everything, Musha.”
“Then who does?”
Hana didn’t answer.
The mountain rumbled.
This time, the sound was almost a growl.
Musha turned toward it.
The voice returned.
But now it was clearer.
Closer.
“Musha.”
Her blood ran cold.
Hana stood immediately.
“Don’t listen.”
Musha couldn’t move.
The voice continued.
“Child of the White Shadow…”
Musha’s heart pounded.
“…wake.”**
A violent tremor tore through the ground.
The mountain shook.
A flock of birds exploded from the trees.
Hana grabbed Musha’s arm.
“We’re leaving.”
“But—”
“Now!”
Hana dragged her toward the village.
Musha stumbled after her.
Yet she couldn’t stop listening.
The voice was fading.
But before it disappeared completely, Musha heard something else.
A whisper.
Almost gentle.
Almost familiar.
“I remember your mother.”
Musha stopped.
Hana nearly collided with her.
“What did you hear?”
Musha’s lips parted.
“It knows my mother.”
Hana froze.
“Who?”
“The thing beneath the mountain.”
Hana’s face changed.
Musha heard it in her breathing.
Fear.
Real fear.
“You know it,” Musha said.
Hana didn’t answer.
“You know what is under there.”
“Musha…”
“You know.”
Hana looked toward the mountain.
Then she whispered:
“That creature has been sleeping for centuries.”
Musha’s heart pounded.
“What creature?”
Hana’s eyes remained fixed on the mountain.
“The last dragon.”
Musha’s face went still.
“Dragon?”
Hana nodded.
“Not the kind in children’s stories.”
Her voice lowered.
“The kind that kings once built armies to destroy.”
Musha looked toward the enormous mountain.
“And it’s alive?”
Hana hesitated.
“Yes.”
A distant roar rolled across the valley.
It was so deep that the windows of the village houses rattled.
Musha’s body went cold.
The sound wasn’t merely heard.
It was felt.
Deep inside her bones.
She whispered:
“What does it want?”
Hana looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
Musha tightened her grip around her staff.
“But it knows me.”
Hana said nothing.
Musha slowly turned toward the mountain.
For the first time, she wasn’t afraid of the darkness.
She was afraid of what might be waiting beyond it.
And somewhere beneath the earth…
Something enormous moved.
A mountain of black scales shifted beneath stone.
Dust fell from an ancient cavern ceiling.
Chains buried beneath centuries of rock groaned.
Then two enormous red eyes opened.
The dragon lifted its head.
Its breath rolled through the cavern like a storm.
And in the darkness, a voice emerged.
“The White Shadow has awakened.”
The dragon smiled.
“At last.”