The sky above Bellmere darkened for a heartbeat—not with stormclouds, but with wings.

Four dragons descended in a controlled spiral of color and flame, their shadows sweeping over the castle courtyards like living banners. At the center flew two nearly identical shapes: radiant purple scales catching the light, blue eyes burning like twin stars. Bakren stayed aloft longer than the others, circling once as his family touched down.

His mother and father landed first, followed by Trey. Only then did Bakren descend, talons meeting stone with a muted scrape. For a moment, he remained still, massive and regal, taking in the scene before him. The Bellmere courtyard unfolded below—elegant arches threaded with technocratic design, banners stirring gently in the air, servants and guards frozen in awe. It was unlike Fydoria’s rugged heights. Refined. Alive with intention.

Flame curled inward as he shifted, scales folding into skin, wings dissolving into the familiar weight of a cloak settling against his shoulders. He straightened, human once more, eyes still alight with quiet wonder as he surveyed the kingdom that had always felt like a second home.

“Bellmere never fails to surprise me,” Bakren murmured, a small, genuine smile breaking through as he stepped forward to join his family.