"My name is Moe. I am of the Uska tribe… guardian of that seal for three generations."
Khael bowed his head, not showy, only solemn.
"I am Khael." His voice rang through the pearl mosaics like a promise. "Dragon Knight or not, I won't let Thal'ryx drown these people."
Outside, the village had become a river of panic. Families fled through narrow streets, clutching children, dragging what little they could carry. Guardians ran with them, armor cracked and bleeding, forming walls against the tide of scaled fiends pouring from the surf.
"To the caverns!" a captain bellowed, hauling a limping elder on his shoulders. "Move! Don't stop, don't look back!"
The sky had curdled into a bruised dome. Waves rose like black walls, split by the stirring of something too large to name. Ships splintered like toys. The air itself seemed to drown.
On the shattered docks, five figures did not run.
