Inside the palace itself, the energy was even more alive. The great hall buzzed with motion—maids polishing the gold railings of the balcony, stewards shouting orders to make sure the banquet tables were perfectly lined, and the royal cooks working frantically in the kitchens. Pans clattered, knives chopped, and the smell of roasted lamb and honey-glazed figs spread through the corridors.
Nobles began arriving early, dressed in deep reds and golds, their jewelry catching the torchlight as they greeted each other with smiles and handshakes. Some spoke in hushed, excited tones, wondering if Kael would descend from the mountain as the beast himself, or if Elric would arrive first.
From the balcony above the courtyard, palace guards could see the road winding down from the mountains. A thin, dark line of movement marked the soldiers on their way—and at the center, a single figure in chains.
In the royal viewing chamber, Elric's attendants moved quickly, laying out his ceremonial cloak, a heavy black fabric embroidered with a dragon in gold thread. A large goblet of wine was poured and placed on the arm of his throne, ready for when he arrived.
The chatter in the hallways grew louder as word spread: "They're almost here." "The bells will stop soon." "Prepare the gates."
Kiki slipped silently through the winding stone corridors beneath the palace, his footsteps soft against the cold floor. The air grew warmer as he neared the cavern entrance, a wide, jagged opening where the dragon, Kael, waited. The scent of sulfur and smoke hung thick.
Kael lay coiled, his massive body stretched across the cavern floor. His scales gleamed white like polished bone, cold and beautiful in the flickering torchlight. At first, the dragon's great head faced away from Kiki, eyes closed as if lost in sleep or thought.
Kiki stopped a few feet from Kael, waited, hands folded, head bowed in respect. Then, with a clear, steady voice, he said, "Your Majesty… it is time."
The dragon stirred slowly. The white scales rippled over rippling muscles. His head turned sharply, eyes opening wide to reveal pools of deep blue. He blinked once, then fixed his gaze on Kiki.
For a moment, Kael said nothing. His expression was unreadable, heavy, almost as if weighing something too large to bear. Then, the subtle tension in his massive jaw tightened, nostrils flared. The dragon's body shifted, the shimmering scales darkening slightly, a faint heat rising from his chest.
Kiki stayed still, sensing the change. This was no gentle awakening. The dragon's eyes narrowed, the light in them hardening into something fierce, almost fearful.
"It is time," Kiki repeated, softer this time.
Kael's long neck arched, the powerful muscles tensing as his great wings unfurled with a low rumble. The cavern seemed to shrink under his presence. His breath came heavy, smoke curling from his nostrils.
Back in the marble chamber, silence fell over the nobles and guards. Even the flickering torches seemed to hold their flames steady, as if watching.
King Elric remained seated, hands clenched on the arms of his throne. Lady Vaeloria's lips pressed thin, eyes darting toward the chamber doors. The High Priest's fingers trembled slightly, gripping the obsidian throne's edge. Captain Arien stood rigid, gaze fixed on the shadows beyond the doors.
A distant echo, a low growl, rolled through the mountain halls. The sound was a warning, a reminder of the power waiting just beyond.
Kiki bowed again toward the dragon. "The offering is ready."
Kael's eyes glowed brighter, the white scales around them shimmering with heat. His head lowered slightly, a reluctant acceptance.
The cavern shook as Kael rose, his massive white form moving with surprising grace for something so large. His claws scraped the stone floor, each step heavy and deliberate. Dust and small stones tumbled from the ceiling, and the distant walls echoed with the deep thuds.
Kiki walked beside him, head bowed low, careful to stay out of the dragon's path. "The sacrifice awaits, Your Majesty," he said quietly, not daring to raise his voice.
Back in the great hall, the guards stationed at the palace gates stiffened. One of them raised his spear and shouted, "The Majesty is coming! Bow for the dragon!"
The voice rippled through the crowd. Merchants, nobles, servants, and common folk alike dropped to their knees or bent their heads low. Children's wide eyes flicked nervously between the dragon's arrival and their parents. Some whispered prayers, others stayed silent, their faces pale with fear.
Inside the palace, the nobles stiffened, adjusting their postures to appear respectful but unable to hide their unease. Lady Vaeloria's hands clenched tightly at her sides, her usual confident smile gone. The High Priest swallowed hard, his breath quickening as the sound of Kael's footsteps grew louder. Captain Arien's jaw clenched, eyes sharp and alert, gripping the hilt of his sword.
Each step the dragon took sent a slight tremor through the floor, and people in the palace looked at one another, exchanging uneasy glances. Servants paused mid-task, faces frozen in a mixture of reverence and dread. The clatter of a dropped silver tray echoed, breaking the tense silence.
A merchant whispered to his neighbor, "He's bigger than I imagined."
A young noblewoman gasped softly, pressing a hand to her chest.
The royal cooks stopped chopping and stared toward the great hall doors, the aroma of food forgotten.
Outside, the crowd's murmur grew to a hum of anxious whispers.
"The Majesty is coming!" a guard repeated, his voice louder this time, commanding obedience.
The people obeyed without hesitation, heads bowing deeper, hands crossing over hearts, eyes fixed to the ground.
The dragon's approach dominated the palace like a storm—powerful, unyielding, and impossible to ignore.
At the chamber's entrance, Kael paused, nostrils flaring as smoke drifted upward. His eyes swept the room, piercing and cold. A collective breath caught in the chests of all who watched.
The guards pushed through the thickening crowd, their grip firm but not cruel as they guided Lyra forward. Her footsteps faltered with every step, the hard stone beneath her feet echoing in the vast hall. Faces blurred around her — noble and commoner alike — their eyes heavy with expectation and fear.
Her heart hammered in her chest, each beat louder than the last. The noise inside her head grew, drowning out the distant sounds of the dragon's slow, heavy steps approaching. Sweat slicked her palms, her breaths shallow, as the cold weight of the moment settled on her shoulders.
"Keep moving," one guard muttered sharply, gripping her arm. Lyra barely registered the words, her gaze locked ahead on the cavernous opening where Kael waited.
Inside the chamber, the air was thick with tension. King Elric stood rigid, his hands clenched at his sides, eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. Lady Vaeloria shifted uneasily, biting her lip, while the High Priest's fingers trembled as he clutched his staff. Captain Arien's stern gaze never left Lyra, his posture taut as a drawn bowstring.
Kiki stood silently near the dragon, watching Lyra's approach with keen eyes. "She's ready," he whispered to no one in particular.
The guards formed a path through the crowd, guiding Lyra slowly toward the dragon's massive form. Whispers swept through the gathered assembly: "The sacrifice…" "Will she survive?" "The dragon chooses."
Kael's white scales shimmered in the torchlight as he lowered his great head, nostrils flaring softly. His eyes locked onto Lyra as she stepped closer, her body trembling but her eyes wide and steady.
The moment their gazes met, something shifted. Lyra's heartbeat quickened, thudding violently against her ribs — too loud, too fast.
Kael's eyes flickered with something unfamiliar. The great dragon hesitated, a slight falter in his breath. His powerful frame tensed, then slowly lowered himself onto one knee before her, a show of respect and something deeper.
The chamber held its breath.
Kiki stepped forward, voice calm but firm. "She is the chosen. Do not touch her. Do not harm her."
The guards relaxed their grip on Lyra, stepping back, faces awed and uncertain.
King Elric's voice cut through the silence. "Let the rite proceed without cruelty. She is the bloodline's last hope."
Lady Vaeloria nodded, visibly relieved, while the High Priest muttered a quiet prayer.
Lyra's legs trembled, but she stood her ground, eyes locked on the dragon's massive head bowed before her. The fear in her chest clashed with a strange awe.
Kael lowered his massive head closer to Lyra, his piercing blue eyes fixed on her trembling form. His nostrils flared as a sudden awareness hit him—a faint, rapid heartbeat pulsed steadily beneath her ribs. He could hear it clearly in the stillness of the cavern. The sound was unexpected, and for a moment, the great dragon froze, muscles tightening, confusion and curiosity flickering in his gaze.
Why does her heartbeat echo so loud? Why does it unsettle me?
Lyra's eyes stayed fixed on the cold stone floor, refusing to meet Kael's intense stare. Her body shook as silent tears ran down her cheeks, her breaths shallow and uneven. Fear and sadness wrapped around her like a heavy cloak. She did not speak. She did not move. Only her quiet, desperate sobs filled the space between them.
Her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees, lowering her head in a deep bow. Her hands touched the cold stone floor, trembling as tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. She didn't dare look up; fear and sorrow kept her eyes fixed on the ground.
Kael's eyes softened as he slowly lowered his massive head until their gazes met. His deep blue eyes searched hers—wide, tear-filled, vulnerable. For a long moment, the dragon just looked at her, astonished by her fragility and something undefinable in her spirit.
Kael's powerful head dipped even lower, his warm breath brushing through her hair. His gaze softened—a new, unfamiliar feeling washing over him. "Do not cry," his voice rumbled low and steady. "I will not harm you."
The guards nearby exchanged uneasy glances, hands twitching toward their weapons. But before anyone could move, Kael stretched out a massive wing and raised a claw, a silent command that stopped them all.
"Leave her. Do not touch her."
His words carried authority no one dared challenge.
King Elric's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching tightly as he watched the scene unfold. Lady Vaeloria's face paled, lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers tightening on the silk at her throat. The High Priest's hands trembled slightly as he gripped the obsidian throne, his breath caught in his throat. Captain Arien's stance stiffened, eyes sharp and calculating, ready to act but uncertain.
Murmurs spread quickly among the nobles and guards. Some exchanged nervous looks, their voices low but thick with unease.
"Maybe the dragon isn't pleased with her," one whispered.
"Has the offering failed? Is this a bad omen?" another murmured.
Outside the chamber, the crowd grew restless. People whispered nervously, unsure of what would happen next. Their faces showed a mix of hope and worry as they waited.
Kael's fierce gaze softened as he looked at Lyra. In that moment, all that mattered was the quiet connection growing between them.