Chapter 11: Gathering Fire for the Future
A sliver of dawn slipped over Lowmoor's east wall, staining frost-tipped rooftops peach and pale gold. Zephyr leaned on the parapet of the abandoned observation tower, Star perched on his shoulder inside a wool-lined cowl. The hatchling's scales gleamed faintly beneath the cloth, silver eyes following every bird in the winter sky.
Below, the academy stirred. Caretakers hauled feed carts; first-year tamers hurried to drills; two unfamiliar men—hard-jawed, cloaks too fine for staff—loitered near the eastern arch. Dragon Sense traced subtle mana threads clinging to their belts, the signature of Guild scouts. The watchers Seer Kalthis had promised.
Zephyr's gut tightened. They will stay until they find a flaw.
Star nudged his cheek, humming a quiet note. Zephyr stroked the little dragon's neck. "We have work to do, small scout. Forty days isn't long."
