The colossal shadow of the Veythar dragon—Venya in her full, terrifying glory—swallowed the academy courtyard whole.
Whispers turned to gasps; heads snapped upward in unison. The air grew thick with tension, the kind that precedes a storm or a revelation.
Students, nobles and commoners alike, froze in place—pegasi snorted nervously, spectral horses flickered like dying flames.
"That's… that's a Veythar dragon!" a voice cracked from the crowd—a young noble boy with trembling hands.
"What?" another echoed, panic rippling outward like a stone in water. "Impossible! How—?"
Screams erupted sporadically—girls clutching their skirts, boys backing away, teachers shouting for calm while their own faces paled.
The dragon hovered there, immense wings beating just enough to hold her position, each downstroke sending gusts of wind that tore at cloaks and scattered loose parchments. Dust swirled in cyclones across the cobblestones, stinging eyes and choking throats.
