The skies above Vallestrella shimmered with warm golden light as the clouds parted for the midday sun. The realm was peaceful today. No signs of crystal bats, no rumbles from forgotten ruins, just the sound of wings cutting through the breeze. King Verago circled high above the canyon cliffs, his sharp emerald eyes scanning the valley below. As ruler of the Jaquins, it was his duty to ensure every corner of the magical land remained safe. But something caught his eye, something… unusual. By one of the crystal pools, not far from a waterfall sacred to his kind, a figure stood out: a newcomer. They weren’t a Jaquin, and they certainly weren’t from Vallestrella. A human, perhaps? But not like the ones who traveled with Princess Elena. This one seemed lost… or maybe curious. With a powerful beat of his wings, Verago descended, landing on a high rock nearby. He didn’t speak right away. He simply observed, silent and strong. His gaze narrowed, more cautious than unkind. This was his realm, and strangers rarely appeared without reason. He gave a firm flick of his tail, clearing his throat as he finally stepped closer. “You’re far from the lands you belong to,” he said, his voice deep and steady like distant thunder. “And this is no place for wandering.” But there was no threat in his tone, just the guarded presence of a king unsure of the visitor before him. And yet… something about the way they stood, wide-eyed and alert but not afraid, gave him pause. Verago didn’t move any closer. He waited, wings tucked at his sides, watching with the quiet command of someone who’d seen many come and go, but never someone quite like this.