On the third day, they returned to the crater one final time. Kind of like saying goodbye to everything.The skeleton seemed different now. Not threatening. Just sad. It was a glorious .. monument to conflict and chaos. To sacrifice. To the price of victory. To the crazy skills they had shown.Mira went directly to the crystal prison. She'd spent the past days analyzing what she'd observed. Thinking through the degradation patterns. The way the cracks spread."The seal is failing exponentially," she said. No preamble. Just direct observation. "Not linearly. It's not degrading at a constant rate. It's accelerating.""How long?" Duncan asked."If the acceleration continues at the current pace? Maybe twenty years. Thirty if we're lucky. Could be less.""That's not a century. That's not even a generation.""No. It's not. Something changed. Maybe us coming here. Maybe the disturbance from the rubbings. Maybe it was already weakening faster than the original seals predicted. But whatever th

The scout had arrived three hours ago. Dust-covered, the horse nearly dead from hard riding, with a report that changed everything."I request to make audience!! The Western Provinces are experiencing mass animal migration," the scout had said.Prime Minister Aldric Crane stood at the Emperor's right hand, exactly where he always stood. His son Viktor was somewhere in the capital, probably training, probably not knowing his father was about to rewrite the kingdom's military strategy.The Emperor gestured. Maps were spread. Western border territory. Grasslands and forests between the kingdom and the mountain ranges that marked the edge of the known world."Mmmhh.. H-How many?" Emperor Aldric asked."Thousands. Tens of thousands. Deer, bears, wolves, smaller creatures. All moving east. All moving fast.""Animals do not, and I repeat, certainly do not migrate like that. Not in coordinated numbers. Not in that direction.""No, Your Majesty. They don't."Silence filled the space between the

They appeared on the fourth day.Draven was at the western perimeter with Sera, working on reinforcing the stone barriers when two figures approached from the garrison center. One moved with purpose and precision. The other moved like he owned the space around him.Rachel and Gordon Vale.Commander Vale's children.Rachel was seventeen, with dark hair and eyes that assessed everything they touched. She carried herself like someone trained in combat but not bound by it. There was flexibility in her posture, adaptability in the way she moved.Gordon was sixteen, golden-haired and charming in the way that only young, confident warriors could be. Fire mage. You could see it in how he carried heat around him like a second skin. The air warmed when he walked past."Academy students?" Rachel asked. Direct. Not unfriendly, just efficient."Yes," Sera answered. "Defensive support positions.""I'm Rachel. This is Gordon. We're posted here as well."Sera nodded acknowledgment. "Sera. This is Dra

Gordon found him in the garrison courtyard an hour after the dragon was brought inside."Explain," Gordon said. No greeting. No preamble. Just demand.Draven didn't turn around. "Explain what?""Your fire. That wasn't learned magic. That wasn't academy training. That wasn't anything normal."Draven finally turned to face him. Gordon was still shaking. Adrenaline from almost dying hadn't worn off yet. Embarrassment was layered underneath."Family training," Draven said simply. "Ashworth tradition. My father taught me. My brothers learned it. That's all.""You're holding back," Gordon said. "In everything. In garrison training, in sparring, in normal combat. You're not fighting at your actual level. Why?""Because I don't need to prove anything."Gordon's hands clenched. "That's arrogant.""That's fact. And you know it."Gordon turned away. Walked a few steps. Came back."If you'd been fighting at full strength during that dragon encounter," Gordon said, "you would have killed it before

Three days to wait.That's what Garrett had said during their conversation at the perimeter. Three days until the dragons arrived. Maybe less. But three days was the estimate the experienced warriors were working with, and Draven had learned to trust their instincts more than his own desperate hope.So the garrison settled into a rhythm that appeared routine on the surface but was desperate and tense underneath. Everyone understood what was coming. Everyone understood that the calm was temporary. Everyone understood that when the dragons returned, they would come harder, meaner, with better tactics learned from the first assault.Day One.Draven woke before dawn and helped organize supply deliveries that had arrived from the capital overnight. Food—dried meats wrapped in cloth, grain sacks heavy enough to require two people carrying them, preserved vegetables in oil, fresh bread that was already beginning to harden. Ammunition for archers stacked in organized piles. Medical herbs bund