Lucien hated the Veilwood.
Even before he stepped beneath its tangled canopy, the air grew heavy. Magic didn't hum here—it crawled.
This forest had been forbidden since before the Dragon Accord. Older than the Academy. Older than the Crown. Trees grew like towers. Roots shifted when no one looked. It was said even time bled differently here.
But Velora had summoned him.
And when the High Priestess commands… you obey.
He only hated that Lyra had been summoned, too.
They traveled in silence at first—he and Lyra, both mounted on their dragons: his frostborn wyvern Zephyr, sleek and pale as starlight, and her young but fiercely protective Vesper.
The Academy guards had stopped at the forest's edge. Only bonded pairs were permitted beyond. Only the chosen.
"Chosen for what?" Lyra had asked.
Velora had smiled.
"To hunt what should not exist."
Now, an hour into the Veilwood, Lucien dismounted.
Zephyr landed beside him in eerie silence. Even the dragons didn't roar here. It was like something in the forest drank noise.
Lyra slid down from Vesper's back, eyes scanning the trees.
"You feel it too," she murmured.
"Yes."
"Like we're being watched."
Lucien drew his blade. "We are."
They moved together—back to back—through a grove where the leaves bled silver and the fog clung like fingers.
Glyphs carved into the tree trunks glowed faintly. Some old. Some… fresh.
Lyra reached out to touch one, but Lucien caught her wrist.
"Don't," he said. "These aren't ours."
She looked at him.
"Then whose are they?"
The answer came with a growl.
Low. Guttural. Too deep for any normal beast.
From the shadows, a creature stepped forward—half-dragon, half-shadow. Twisted. Wrong. Its scales shimmered obsidian-black, its eyes hollow and burning green.
Lucien's stomach turned.
"A corrupted one," he whispered. "A dragon fallen to the Dark Sigils."
Before Lyra could ask, it charged.
Lucien shoved her aside and threw a frost barrier between them. The creature smashed into it, snarling, claws cracking the ice.
Vesper shrieked behind them. Zephyr launched upward, ice breath roaring.
"Lyra!" Lucien shouted. "Glyph the trees! Trap it!"
She moved fast—faster than before. Her hands traced symbols midair. The forest responded—roots ripping upward, forming a cage of burning vines.
The creature roared again—this time in agony—as Lyra carved one final glyph in the air.
Ignis Claustra.
Fire. Bind.
The trap snapped shut. Flames coiled upward. The beast screamed and crumbled to ash.
Silence returned.
Lyra collapsed to her knees, panting.
Lucien knelt beside her.
"You okay?"
She nodded, barely.
"What the hell was that thing?" she asked.
He looked back at the smoldering ashes.
"A warning."
They made camp just beyond the battle site. Dragons curled nearby, watchful.
Lucien sat near the fire, sharpening his blade, while Lyra stared into the flames.
"I saw something in its eyes," she whispered.
He looked up.
"It wasn't just rage. It was pain."
Lucien didn't answer.
He knew the signs. The corrupted weren't born—they were made. Twisted by dark glyphs and cursed flame. A craft long forbidden… except by those with nothing left to lose.
He knew the Academy would never admit it aloud.
But these weren't just ancient beasts lost to madness.
These were experiments.
"Why do I get the feeling," Lyra said, "that this was never about a rogue dragon?"
Lucien met her gaze.
"Because you're starting to understand how this world really works."
Later that night, while the dragons slept and the fire crackled low, Lyra stepped close.
"Lucien," she said.
He didn't move.
"I think I saw this moment," she whispered. "In my Trial vision."
He turned toward her.
"We were here. In the woods. Fighting something dark. And you were—bleeding."
Lucien's jaw tightened.
"You didn't tell Velora that part."
"No," she said. "Because I think she already knows."
Lucien looked at her—really looked.
She wasn't just surviving anymore.
She was waking up.
To power. To pain.
To the truth.
"You saw me dying?" he asked.
Lyra hesitated.
"Not just you," she whispered. "Everything."
A sudden wind cut through the trees.
The fire died instantly.
Vesper snarled.
Zephyr rose, wings flared.
Lucien stood and drew his blade.
Something was coming.
And this time…
They wouldn't be hunting alone.
🔥Teaser ~: "The deeper they go into the Veilwood, the closer they come to something forgotten by time… and a truth buried in blood."