The mountain winds bit through Kaito's cloak as he and Yù Lóng descended into the valley of Serakai — a city untouched by the war, yet uneasy beneath its calm. Smoke curled from the forges, and banners of white and gold fluttered from every gate.
"This place feels wrong," Kaito murmured. "Too clean. Too quiet."
"It hides its fire well," Yù Lóng replied. Her scales gleamed faintly in the twilight. "The humans here whisper of the Council of Embers. They gather knowledge that survived your brother's death."
At the gates, they were met by a patrol — armored riders bearing silver insignias shaped like burning feathers. Their leader removed his helm, revealing a scarred face and eyes like cold steel.
"I am Captain Rin Vael, commander of the Ember Guard," he said. "The Council has awaited your arrival, Graveborn."
"You speak as if this was planned," Kaito said, wary.
"It was," Rin replied, glancing briefly at Yù Lóng. "Your brother foresaw much before he died."
The words struck like thunder. Adrian's reach, it seemed, stretched even into death.
Inside the city, Kaito saw faces of hope and fear intermingled — smiths forging weapons not for conquest but for protection; healers tending to burned refugees; and children tracing symbols of dragons into the dirt as if invoking ancient blessings.
They were building something here — something that dared to exist between human and dragonkind.
At the heart of Serakai stood a vast amphitheater carved into red stone. Torches ringed the walls like halos. Seated in a circle were the members of the Council of Embers — scholars, warriors, and mages whose robes shimmered in hues of flame.
At the center sat an old man with ink-stained hands. His eyes, though dim, carried the same gentle light that Adrian once had.
"Kaito," he greeted softly. "I am Master Eidan Row, keeper of Adrian's last records. Your brother entrusted me with what he could not finish."
Kaito stepped forward, voice trembling. "You knew him?"
"I taught him," Eidan said. "And I warned him. He believed humanity could live beside dragons again. The Order feared him for that."
Yù Lóng's breath rumbled low. "And you hid while they murdered him."
Eidan bowed his head. "Perhaps. But I did not stop his dream."
He gestured, and a young woman stepped into the light. She was no soldier — her robes were lined with runes, her hair tied back with strips of scorched silk. Her eyes glowed faintly, like embers in the dark.
"This is Lira of the Hollow Sky," Eidan said. "A Seer. The last of her temple. She carries what your brother sought — the Prophecy of the Last Dragon."
Lira bowed slightly. "I have seen you in the flame, Kaito. A man born of grave and fire, bound to the last of dragonkind. You are not the end. You are the bridge."
Her voice carried both calm and conviction, and for a moment Kaito felt something stir — a faint echo of purpose beyond vengeance.
But Captain Rin interrupted. "Prophecies won't save us from Astraea's empire. Her followers spread across the south. They claim the Graveborn fire for themselves. They burn villages in your name, Kaito."
His words hit like a blade. "In my name?"
"Yes," Rin said bitterly. "They raise your sigil — a sword wreathed in flame — and call it salvation. The world thinks you lead them."
Yù Lóng's eyes narrowed. "Then Astraea's plan is clear. She builds her purity upon your shadow."
Kaito's fists tightened. "Then I'll tear it down."
Eidan raised a frail hand. "Wait. Rage won't win this war. You must learn what you carry first — the truth of the Dragon's Betrayal."
The amphitheater darkened as Lira opened a scroll bound in ancient silk. Symbols of gold shimmered across its surface.
"In the age before empires," she said, "dragons and humans were one covenant. The dragons shared their flame — wisdom, strength, life. But man's fear twisted it. They built temples not to honor dragons, but to contain them. One dragon betrayed her kin — not for power, but to protect humanity from destruction. Her name was Soryana the Veiled Star."
Yù Lóng stirred at the name, wings folding tightly.
"She was your ancestor," Lira whispered. "The first to bear the burden of mercy. The others called it betrayal."
Silence thickened. Kaito glanced at Yù Lóng, whose gaze was distant, haunted.
"Then the war between dragons and men," Kaito said slowly, "was born from mercy — not malice."
Eidan nodded. "And that same mercy flows in you. The fire that can destroy also heals. It is the last true gift of the dragons."
Before Kaito could speak, alarms echoed through the city — bells tolling, horns crying. Rin drew his blade, eyes flashing.
"They've found us," he growled. "White Flame riders at the southern gate!"
Kaito grabbed his sword, the runes flaring alive. Yù Lóng's wings unfurled, scattering embers across the chamber.
Eidan's voice rose above the chaos. "Go, Graveborn! Protect the Seer! If Astraea gains the prophecy, she will chain every dragon soul left in the world!"
Lira met Kaito's gaze, fear and faith mingling in her eyes. "Then we run together."
As the doors burst open with fire and screams, Kaito turned once toward Eidan. "We'll come back."
The old man smiled faintly. "Then perhaps your brother was right — mercy still burns."
Kaito and Lira vanished into the night as Yù Lóng's roar split the skies.
The war of memory and flame had begun anew.