The sky was streaked with light as the golden dragon weaved through the clouds, its wings catching the last flare of the setting sun.
It circled above them, mist trailing from its wings where the frozen breath of the mountain still hung thick in the air. It didn't roar. It didn't descend in fire or glory. It simply moved like it had always belonged in that sky.
Below, the world had gone still.
Neveah's breath hitched.
Not from fear but from something else.
Something deeper.
"Xenon..." Her voice was barely a whisper.
But Xenon was already staring up at the skies, eyes wide. He stilled beside Neveah, his eyes locked on the creature overhead. There was a shift in the air that both felt with equal potency. One of memory, and weight, and something older than either of them could name.
