The two paths stretched before them—one golden, one silver, both endless.
The moss beneath Prava's feet vibrated with unseen power, waiting for her choice.
Her breath slowed. Deep within, the echo of that woman's words—"Do not forget who you are meant to be"—guided her heart. She reached forward, her hand trembling only slightly, and stepped onto the silver path, shrouded in mist.
The forest responded at once. The air shifted, heavy yet alive. The emerald plain melted away, and they found themselves standing on the edge of an ancient stone bridge spanning a chasm of swirling light.
Above, a dragon's roar split the silence. A colossal shape moved within the mist—scales shimmering like jade, wings vast as the sky. Its eyes glowed with wisdom older than kingdoms.
Allara stiffened, her hand resting on her staff. "A guardian… of dragon blood."
The voice of the dragon rumbled through the chasm:
"You who walk the path of memory, you must prove your worth. The forest is bound to the lineage of dragons—the first keepers of this land. Show me if your blood carries truth, or only shadow."
Prava froze. "Lineage…? What does he mean?"
Rafael turned sharply to her, his expression troubled. "Prava… your family—do you know where your bloodline comes from?"
The dragon lowered its head, mist curling around its fangs.
"Her ancestors walked once among the Dragon-Kin. The daughters of flame and memory. But the line was fractured… scattered. If she fails this test, the forest will not recognize her as heir."
The bridge beneath them shuddered. Runes blazed across its surface, forming a trial by light and shadow.
Prava clenched her fists. Fear clawed at her chest, but she stepped forward.
"I don't understand everything yet… but if this is my blood, my past, then I will face it. I will not turn away."
The dragon's eyes flared, and the test began.