Then came the first sign of disturbance.
A scent, metallic, sharp, almost burnt. Lindarion lifted a hand for silence. The soldiers halted instantly. Even the air seemed to pause.
They moved carefully toward the source, and as the foliage thinned, the trees opened into a hollow glade. In its center lay a crater, not large, but unnatural. The soil had melted into black glass, and at its heart pulsed a golden ember no larger than a coin.
Ashwing hissed softly. "Draconic essence again."
Lindarion approached, the ground crunching faintly beneath his boots. The ember pulsed faintly in response to his presence.
The [System] flickered.
[Energy Signature: Ancient Draconic Residue.]
[Stabilized. Contained.]
[Possible origin: Heart Fragment.]
Nysha's eyes widened. "A heart fragment? You mean—"
"Yes," Lindarion said quietly. "What's left when a dragon dies without returning to its plane."
