Dawn in Nocture always came in a subtle way.
The sky above the night capital never truly turned bright. The faint red sunlight only touched the peaks of the black steel towers, then crept down slowly like ink dissolving in water, while the crystal lamps on the streets below dimmed one by one as if reluctant to end their party. In the palace's back courtyard, on the wide crystal floor usually used for military ceremonies, Sol already stood in his fifty-meter golden dragon form, his scales gleaming warmly in the first light of dawn.
Sylvia wore a compact black traveling dress with a long hooded cloak, a gift from Sofia sewn overnight with silver thread along the edges. The Chains of the Abyss coiled quietly around her right wrist. Beside her, Alicia floated in spirit form with a black staff topped with a blue lantern in her hand, and Qilin stood on his slender four legs, his single crystal horn glowing softly, his breathing slightly uneven from nervousness.
