The first light of morning filtered through the grand windows of the royal palace in Mirdia. The golden sun spilled over embroidered curtains, casting delicate patterns across the silken sheets of the royal bed.
Prince Vanhil Mirdia stirred. His silver hair shimmered in the light as he sat upright, his chiseled features bathed in calm serenity. Beside him lay Queen Elizabeth of Theodor, her youthful beauty still aglow even in slumber. Her soft brown eyes fluttered open at the warmth of the sunlight and his gaze.
"Good morning, my prince," she said softly, her voice like a breeze.
Vanhil smiled faintly. "Good morning, my queen."
Their lips met in a gentle kiss before he rose from the bed and walked toward the wide window. Outside, the capital city stretched out in organized beauty. A kingdom, expanding—extending its influence beyond its own borders.
Elizabeth wrapped herself in a silken robe and joined him. "Another long day."
"Indeed," Vanhil replied. "But one worth rising for. Let us prepare."
Later, dressed in refined elegance, Vanhil in a black-and-gold noble suit and Elizabeth in a deep violet dress trimmed with silver, the pair walked through the palace halls. Maids and officials bowed low as they passed, their reverence absolute. Behind them, a procession of guards and servants followed at a respectful distance.
Outside, their sleek black hovercar waited. Additional hovercars flanked it as escorts. The couple stepped in with ease, the door closing behind them with a soft hiss. The convoy rolled forward, leaving the palace on route to a diplomatic assembly.
In stark contrast, miles away near the rocky forests approaching the Darga Kingdom's border, four adventurers crouched in the undergrowth.
Arriel adjusted his stance, peering through enchanted binoculars. "There it is."
Resting between large boulders was a silver-scaled creature—a Silverback Wyrmling, its shimmering hide catching the morning light. Though not fully grown, it was large enough to warrant serious caution.
Lira whispered, "Its scales will resist most direct hits. We need to aim for the eyes, neck joints, or underbelly."
Kell groaned quietly. "I still say we wait. Is it really worth crossing into near-Darga territory?"
Mirable, her eyes sharp behind a scouting monocle, responded. "We're still in Mirdia's borders. Barely. But I agree, we need to move now or lose the chance."
Arriel narrowed his eyes. "Alright. I'll distract it and drive it toward the open clearing. Kell, Mirable, you flank. Lira, hit it with the strongest magic the moment you see a shot."
They nodded.
Just as they crept forward to initiate the plan, the wyrmling jerked up, its nostrils flaring. With surprising speed, it let out a piercing shriek and darted toward the border.
"Wait!" Arriel hissed, bolting a few steps forward.
It was too late. The dragon leapt across the invisible line dividing Mirdia and Darga, vanishing into the foliage on the other side.
Kell skidded to a halt. "We can't follow it. Crossing the border without permission is a political disaster."
Lira exhaled in frustration. "So close..."
Mirable, still watching the tree line, murmured, "It wasn't just alert. That wyrmling... it was trained."
The trio turned to her.
"What do you mean?" Arriel asked.
She shrugged. "Just a feeling. I've seen trained beasts before. That one didn't move like a wild animal."
They fell silent, thoughts racing with implications.
As they turned back toward their hoverbike, none of them noticed the shadow watching from a cliff above. A cloaked figure, half-concealed in pine and stone, stood still.
He wore a muted status bracelet glowing faintly beneath his sleeve. His face unreadable beneath a hood, he murmured, "Too slow..."
With a shift in the wind, he disappeared into the trees.
The Kind Heroes returned to their transport, thoughts heavy with unanswered questions. But one thing was certain: whatever was going on near the border, it wasn't just a rogue monster.
Something else was stirring.
And they had only just scratched the surface.