In the dragon field, they heard Sunkiath roaring overhead, locked in a powerful aerial dance with the King.
Sensing a surge of magic from the ground, the dragon dove, wings slicing through the air like two great swords. But the King spotted Kai standing beside the wizard and raised a hand to calm his beast.
"Don't burn it."
Sunkiath's voice growled inside his mind, thick with fury. "He carries the witch's blood. The one who murdered your wife."
The King's jaw tightened, his expression darkening, but he said nothing.
As he touched down, Sunkiath followed, folding his massive wings as he lowered his neck. The dragon's maw came so close to Sigaros that the young wizard could smell the heat of smoke and the heavy stench of fury.
But Sigaros didn't flinch. He stood solid, unmoving as a statue carved by will alone.
"I come for peace. And aid," he declared firmly.
