The sun had barely crested the cliffs when Eldhollow began to stir. Smoke rose lazily from chimneys, carrying the scent of baking bread and wood smoke. Children laughed, chasing a stray goat along the cobbled streets, their voices bright and careless. Farmers moved through the fields, exchanging jokes and complaints, while merchants arranged fruits and vegetables, the colors vibrant in the early light.
Cael walked among them, nodding and smiling, his presence unnoticed by none. Old Mira waved from her porch, flour dusting her hands and apron. "Careful by the cliffs today, boy," she called, her voice warm with habit. "The winds are strong."
"I'll be careful, Mira," he replied, forcing a grin. For a moment, the world felt ordinary. Peaceful. Safe.
He passed the bakery, catching the aroma of his mother kneading dough. She looked up and smiled at him, her eyes soft but tired. Friends called to him from the fields. A small dog barked and nipped at his heels. Cael laughed lightly, savoring the comfort of familiarity.
This was his home. This was the world he knew.
Yet even in the golden morning, shadows stretched unnaturally over the cliffs, and the wind carried a chill that made the hair on the back of his neck rise. Birds fell silent. Dogs whimpered. Something, unseen, moved among the rocks above.
He noticed it, just for a moment, but he said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. The village had always been safe. Nothing could harm Eldhollow.
Or so he thought.
A low, wet roar rolled down from the cliffs, shaking the rooftops. Dogs barked frantically. Children froze mid-chase, their laughter cut short. Something massive stirred among the rocks — scales glinting in the sunlight, claws scraping stone.
Cael's chest tightened. His heart skipped a beat. He felt a chill creep down his spine, cold and insistent. The wind carried the stench of something wrong, something predatory.
From the edge of the cliffs, shadows moved, shifting and alive. The roar came again, louder this time, wet and guttural. Mira clutched her chest, staring upward. A group of children huddled together, eyes wide and uncomprehending.
Cael's fists clenched at his sides. His body tensed, instincts whispering, screaming. Danger was coming. Something enormous. And it was coming for Eldhollow.
He could not yet see its full form. Not yet. But he could hear it. Feel it. Smell it. The village he had grown up in, the people he loved — his home — was about to be torn apart.
And he was powerless to stop it.
The last light of dawn cast long shadows across the village. The wind shifted. And the roar came again, closer now, carrying a promise of fire, blood, and ruin.