Thane.
At some point, Lyra appears with dinner. She sits beside me, close but silent, offering quiet comfort—the kind that doesn’t ask for answers. She knows me well enough to let the silence do the work.
After a while, she leans over, kisses my cheek, and heads back to the barracks.
The night deepens, the air cooling against my skin. Eventually, I force myself to stand, my body heavy with exhaustion.
I walk back to the barracks in the dark. Lyra is already asleep, her steady breathing a soft rhythm in the quiet. I climb into my bunk and lie there, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts circling endlessly—looping, looping, refusing to settle.
And then, at some point, sleep finds me.
And I dream.
The air thickens, heavy with mist that curls in luminous tendrils around my ankles. It shimmers faintly, pulsing like breath.
Like something alive.
The world beyond is veiled. Shadows stretch and shift—restless but silent.
I turn slowly, my footsteps soundless on the unseen ground beneath me. There’s no sky above, no stars. Only an endless expanse of darkness pressing at the edges of the mist.
And yet . . . beyond it, something gleams.
Radiant.Otherworldly.
I step forward, drawn by a force I cannot name, my pulse quickening. The mist parts in slow, swirling ribbons, revealing a vast, open space—a place that is nowhere and everywhere all at once.
Then—a flicker of light.
Not just light—scales, rippling like liquid silver.
A shape moves through the mist. Powerful. Effortless. Gliding through the shadows—a creature made of myth and memory.
I freeze, breath caught, heart pounding.
A dragon.
But not just any dragon.
The mist recedes, reverent, unveiling her fully.
And she stands before me.
I know her name.
Like it’s always been inside me, waiting to be spoken.
She is part of me. As I am part of her.
Calryx.
Her silvery-white scales shimmer like moonlight on rippling water, iridescent—each movement catching shades of blue, green, and soft rose. Ethereal. Luminous. Impossibly real.
She is breathtaking—beautiful beyond words, terrifying in the sheer weight of her presence. Power clings to her like a second skin, ancient and unyielding.
Her emerald eyes meet mine—filled with a knowing that stretches beyond time, something unbreakable.
And then, a voice. Soft as wind. Deep as bone.
