The wind had already grown sharp, whispering through the academy's spires and courtyards, tugging at banners and rattling windows. Lira pressed her palms against the cold stone of the upper hall window, her eyes tracing the restless dragons as they circled nervously above. Maelin clutched her sleeve, voice tight with unease.
Then, the world seemed to shudder.
A sound—deep, resonant, and filled with raw, primal fury—tore through the air. A dragon's screech, more terrifying than anything Lira had ever heard. Every student froze, every dragon paused mid-flight, wings stilled, and even the teachers flinched. The sound vibrated through stone, air, and earth alike, making Lira's chest tighten and her vines pulse nervously around her feet.
