f the citadel. Elara and Kaelen stood amidst the rejuvenated magic, their hands still clasped, their eyes reflecting the vibrant, swirling threads of light that n

we, his earlier weariness replaced by a v

ght with an emotion that mirrored her own burgeoning hope. "Elara," he murmured, his thumb

." The golden thread between them, now thick and incandescent, pulsed with

istant, rising chorus of roars. Not the pained wheezes of ailing beasts, but the magnificent, triumphant bellows of Sky-Serpents, their calls echoing through th

of despair, now broke into wide, incredulous smiles. They rushed forward, their eyes drawn to the two figures emerging from th

t is broken!" he proclaimed, his voice cutting through the din, amplified by the renewed energy with

pted. People wept, embraced, and t

but predominantly, a profound, desperate gratitude. Kaelen, sensing her su

and wisdom guided us to the Loom's heart and, with my assistance, re-wove the very essence of Aethelgard's magi

rippled through the crowd shifted from confusion to a reverent awe. A common weaver, elevated to such a status?

ctured life of the royal court. Her small, earthen-floored room was replaced by a lavish chamber in the Sky-Watch citadel, adorned with tapestries far grander than any she had ever see

ing not as a prince to a subject, but as one who shared a profound, world-altering secret. He explained the intricate workings of the court, the expectations of his position, the history of Aet

A Dragon Prince must consider his legacy, his future Queen." Elara, who was present, felt the subtle tension in the room, the unspoken challenge to her unconventional presence. Kaelen, however, had met Lady Valerius's gaze with unwav

l – a stark contrast to the elaborate palace feasts – to share in the privacy of her chambers. He told her stories of his youth, of learning to fly with Blackfang, of the weig