The dawn was colder than before.
Mist hung over the jagged cliffs, and the pale sun struggled to pierce through the heavy sky.
Eric pulled his cloak tighter, breathing clouds of white into the morning air.
Beside him, Seraphina walked silently — her silver hair dimly reflecting the weak sunlight, her horns catching the light like dark crystal.
They had barely spoken since they left the valley. The world around them had fallen into an uneasy quiet, as if nature itself was holding its breath.
Yet beneath that silence, Eric felt something — a pulse, faint but constant, echoing deep within the ground.
It was not the heartbeat of the world.
It was the call of something older.
---
They reached a ridge where the path curved upward, revealing a horizon painted in ash-gray and crimson.
Far away, faint streaks of light shimmered above the mountains — Ember Hall was near.
Seraphina stopped, her eyes narrowing.
"The air is different," she murmured.
Eric looked around. "How so?"
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
"There's magic here… ancient magic. It's like walking through the breath of dragons."
Eric smiled faintly. "That sounds poetic."
She opened her eyes and looked at him. "It's not poetry, Eric. It's warning us."
---
As they walked further, the mist thickened. Strange whispers moved within it — not voices, but vibrations that tugged at the edge of hearing.
Eric reached for his sword out of instinct, though he knew it would be useless against things that had no body.
Then he saw it — a flicker of light in the fog, like an ember rising from unseen flames.
It floated for a moment, then vanished.
"Seraphina," he whispered. "We're not alone."
She nodded once. "Keep walking. Don't look back."
Her tone was calm but her tail flicked sharply, betraying her tension. The last time Eric saw that look, they had been ambushed by Drakonis' scouts.
But this felt different.
Whatever followed them didn't move with the rhythm of a hunter — it moved like something watching, waiting.
---
By noon, the fog thinned, and they reached a plateau overlooking the molten plains below.
From here, the world seemed split in two: the human lands fading behind them into cold grays, and before them, the realm of dragons — alive, glowing, dangerous.
Eric leaned against a boulder, catching his breath. "So that's Ember Hall?"
Seraphina nodded, though her expression was unreadable.
"Not yet. That's just the border — the outer flame fields. The Hall lies beyond the Fire Veil."
"Sounds… welcoming."
She smiled faintly. "To dragons, perhaps."
There was a pause, filled only by the sound of wind brushing the rocks.
Then, quietly, Eric asked, "Do you ever regret coming back?"
Seraphina's eyes softened. "Every day I was away, I regretted leaving. Every step I take toward home… I regret returning."
Eric tilted his head. "That's… complicated."
"All things worth feeling are."
---
They camped that night near the cliff edge, where the sky glowed faintly red from the lava rivers below.
The warmth of the air was strange after so many cold nights. Eric sat near the edge, watching the horizon pulse like a heartbeat.
Seraphina sat beside him, wrapping her wings around herself. Her scales reflected the glow, painting her in a thousand shades of gold and crimson.
"I can feel it," she said softly.
"The Hall?"
"No. The eyes."
Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. "They're watching from the sky. The Council. The ones who serve Drakonis."
Eric tensed. "They found us?"
"Not yet," she replied. "But they're close. I can sense the echo of their fire."
He reached for her hand. "Then we'll move faster."
But she didn't move. Instead, she looked at him — really looked at him, as if memorizing his face.
"Eric," she said, "when we reach the Hall, you must promise me something."
"What?"
"No matter what happens… don't try to save me."
He froze. "What are you talking about?"
She looked away. "The bond between me and Drakonis is older than my life. He forged it with blood magic when I was a child — a mark I can't remove. When I step into Ember Hall, it will awaken. If you interfere—"
"I don't care," he cut in. "You think I'll just stand there and watch—?"
"You must."
Her voice cracked, the edge of desperation cutting through her usual calm.
"If you try to fight him through me, you'll die. And if you die…" She swallowed hard. "Then I won't have a reason to fight at all."
The silence that followed was unbearable. The only sound was the faint crackle of molten rivers below.
Finally, Eric said quietly, "I've already made my choice."
She turned to him, her eyes wide, shimmering like molten silver. "Eric—"
He took her hand again and held it tightly. "I won't abandon you. Not again. Not ever."
For a long time, neither spoke.
The air between them hummed with unspoken words — fear, love, defiance — all tangled into something neither of them could name.
Then, slowly, Seraphina leaned closer, her forehead resting against his. Her horns touched his brow, and for a moment, the fire around them seemed to quiet.
"Then," she whispered, "let's burn together, if we must."
---
That night, Eric dreamed.
He stood in the middle of a storm of ash. Around him, mountains burned and dragons screamed.
From the smoke rose a massive shadow — Drakonis himself, eyes glowing with the same fire that now pulsed faintly in Eric's own chest.
> "You think you can claim her, mortal?"
"You think love can tame fire?"
The voice shook the dreamscape.
Eric drew his sword, but it melted in his hands, turning to molten light.
> "Then burn, little flame."
Fire surged toward him — and in that instant, he saw Seraphina's face within the blaze. Her eyes, her voice, her pain.
He reached out —
—and woke gasping.
---
Seraphina was already awake, sitting near the fire, her back to him.
The faint outline of wings shimmered in the heat, but there was something else — a mark glowing faintly on her shoulder, shaped like a dragon's eye.
He moved closer, quietly. "You're glowing."
She turned, startled, covering her shoulder with her wing. "It's nothing."
"Seraphina."
Her gaze met his — fierce, unguarded. Then she sighed. "The mark is waking. The closer we get to Ember Hall, the stronger it becomes."
Eric frowned. "Can I—can we stop it?"
"No," she said. "It's like a chain buried inside my soul. Once we cross the Fire Veil, it will pull me to him."
He reached out, his hand hovering just above her shoulder. "Then I'll pull back."
Her lips trembled — caught between a smile and sorrow. "You can't fight destiny, Eric."
"Maybe not," he whispered, "but I can fight for you."
---
As the first light of dawn touched the plains, Seraphina stood and spread her wings.
The scars glowed faintly, yet the air around her shimmered with renewed strength.
"We'll reach the Fire Veil by nightfall," she said.
Eric tightened the straps on his pack, his heart pounding with something he couldn't name — dread or determination, perhaps both.
He looked up at the horizon, where black clouds swirled above Ember Hall like a living storm.
"Then let's finish this."
Seraphina nodded once, and together they stepped into the rising light.
Above them, unseen, a shadow passed across the sun — massive, silent, and watching.