The heavy beat of the wings sent a gale sweeping across the cobblestone street, whipping the snow into swirling vortexes around Roland's feet. Fwoosh. His blue overcoat billowed wildly, and he had to squint against the biting frost pelting his face.
Behind him, the gate guards took an unconscious half-step back. The young guard's spear trembled even harder.
"Don't shoot," Roland said without looking back, his voice low and firm. "I've got this."
The white dragon touched down with a gentle thud that still managed to rattle the frost along the roadside. Thrum. Its massive wings folded inward as its house-sized body began to emit a blinding silver glow. The silhouette shrank, condensing rapidly until the light shattered into shimmering fragments, drifting upward like snow falling in reverse.
