The group gathered once more, shaking off the exhaustion that clung to them like a heavy cloak. Their thoughts lingered on the strange events of the Withered Woods—the vanishing town, the mysterious creature, and the lingering questions—but they pushed those concerns aside. The answers would come later, when they stood before King Rowan. For now, the path ahead demanded their focus.

The air around them was still, a stark contrast to the chaos they had faced earlier. The forest whispered faintly as a soft breeze rustled the canopy overhead, carrying with it the earthy scent of moss and damp wood. Shadows stretched long and thin across the trail as the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the landscape in hues of gold and amber.

Each companion moved with purpose, though their expressions betrayed a mix of weariness and quiet determination. They shared fleeting glances but said little; the bond between them needed no words. Lorian walked a few steps behind Caelus, his small frame almost dwarfed by the shimmering white dragon that trailed protectively beside him. Cheese clung to his shoulder, its surface shifting colors—faint streaks of blue betraying its lingering worry.

Darius moved ahead, his commanding presence clearing the path as he gestured for the dragons to follow. Their powerful forms emerged one by one from the tree line, their footsteps light despite their massive size. The dragons were a sight to behold, their scales gleaming in the fading sunlight. They seemed oddly restless, their eyes darting around as if searching for the town that had so suddenly vanished. Their confusion mirrored that of their riders, but they too seemed to understand that their questions would have to wait.

One by one, the Champions made their way to their dragons, the massive creatures resting nearby in the soft glow of the fading sunlight. Each dragon carried a unique aura, their distinct personalities shaping the bonds they shared with their riders. These majestic beasts—symbols of Helia’s ancient might—were as varied as the heroes who commanded them.

Riven approached her dragon, Noctis, her sharp eyes narrowing beneath her hood. Arms crossed, she stopped a few paces away, her glare unwavering. The sleek black dragon lay sprawled across the ground, its massive frame utterly relaxed, as though the weight of the world didn’t exist. Its obsidian scales gleamed faintly, catching the dying light in a ripple of violet hues.

"Noctis," Riven called out, her tone clipped and impatient. The dragon didn’t move. One glowing purple eye slid open, regarding her with a lazy indifference before shutting again with a low, rumbling huff, its long tail flicking dismissively against the dirt.

Riven’s lips curled into a scowl. “Get up, you lazy lump!” she barked, stepping closer and delivering a sharp jab to its side with her boot. The dragon’s body shifted slightly, its chest rumbling with what could only be described as a deep, unimpressed growl, but it refused to budge.

Muttering under her breath, Riven pushed against Noctis’s broad shoulder, her small frame barely making the dragon flinch. “Stupid lizard,” she grumbled, shoving harder. Noctis, in turn, cracked open both eyes this time, giving her a pointed look that seemed to say, Really?

From a few paces away, Darius chuckled, his deep voice carrying easily through the clearing. “You’ve got to know how to ask, Riven,” he teased.

“Don’t start with me, scales,” Riven shot back, her frustration bleeding into her tone.

Darius merely smirked and let out a sharp whistle, a commanding sound that immediately caught Noctis’s attention. With a long, dramatic sigh, the dragon rose to its feet, its powerful muscles shifting fluidly beneath its glistening scales. It shook itself off lazily, the motion sending a wave of shimmering light across its body before it finally moved to join the others.

Riven rolled her eyes, climbing onto Noctis’s back with practiced ease. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered under her breath, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips. Noctis let out a low, rumbling chuckle of its own, as if thoroughly pleased with itself.

Meanwhile, Lorian approached Albaris, his dragon, with a gentle touch and an easy smile. Albaris was smaller compared to the others, but no less striking. Its sleek, white scales shimmered with an iridescent glow, reflecting faint hints of blue and silver in the dappled sunlight. The dragon’s slender frame and elegantly curved horns gave it an almost ethereal appearance, as if it belonged in the sky more than on the ground.

Albaris, however, was far from angelic in temperament at the moment. It lowered its head and gave a mischievous nip at Cheese, the little slime perched precariously on Lorian’s waist. Cheese let out a startled squeak, its gelatinous body quivering as it turned a vibrant, irritated shade of red. With one wobbly hand, it swatted at Albaris’s snout, the motion more indignant than effective.

“Albaris,” Lorian said, his voice warm and chastising, though a laugh bubbled up at the sight of the playful dragon. “Stop teasing Cheese. You’ll scare it.”

The dragon let out a soft huff, its nostrils flaring as it pulled its head back slightly. Its eyes, a pale, icy blue, gleamed with amusement as it flicked its tail behind it in a lazy arc. The faintest rumble of a chuckle escaped its throat, betraying its delight in ruffling the little slime’s nonexistent feathers.

Cheese, meanwhile, clung more tightly to Lorian’s waist, burying its soft, quivering body into his tunic as if trying to disappear from Albaris’s teasing. The slime’s edges trembled faintly, and its color deepened to a defensive shade of maroon, an unusual display of its lingering unease from the earlier chaos.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Lorian’s tone softened as he reached down, resting a calming hand on Cheese’s surface. The contact seemed to ease the trembling somewhat, though Cheese didn’t lift its face from its hiding spot. It was clear the little creature still sought comfort, shaken from the turmoil they’d barely escaped.

“Come on, Albaris. Be nice,” Lorian added with a smile as he stroked the dragon’s scaled neck. The dragon gave an exaggerated sigh, one that seemed almost petulant, but finally relented. It lowered its body gracefully, the powerful muscles in its legs shifting as it made itself a sturdy platform for its rider.

“Thanks.” Lorian stepped forward, running his hand along Albaris’s neck before mounting with practiced ease. The dragon’s smooth scales were warm under his touch, and it gave a satisfied rumble as he settled into place. Cheese, still clutching at Lorian like a lifeline, tucked itself securely against his waist. Its two small hands clung tightly to the fabric of his tunic, unwilling to let go just yet.

Lorian glanced down at Cheese with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Albaris, as if sensing the need for calm, refrained from any further antics. Its wings twitched slightly, shimmering in the light as it awaited the signal to take off, its playful energy now subdued into quiet readiness.

Seraph moved toward her dragon, Lunara, with an almost ethereal calm. Her steps were measured, her flowing robes trailing behind her as the sunlight caught on the faint runes etched into the fabric. Lunara, a strikingly elegant dragon with amethyst-hued scales, stood waiting near the edge of the clearing. Its shimmering hide reflected the light in cascading waves of purple and silver, like moonlight dancing on a serene lake.

The dragon met Seraph’s approach with a slow, deliberate blink, its emerald eyes holding a deep, knowing intelligence. Its head lowered in a gesture of acknowledgment, the long, sleek horns framing its regal face catching a glimmer of sunlight. Lunara exuded a serene, almost mystical energy, as though the dragon itself had been born from the quiet depths of an ancient dream.

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Seraph paused before her companion, her gaze softening. She raised a hand, fingers outstretched but hesitant, as though she sought permission for the touch. Lunara closed its eyes briefly, leaning its head slightly into the offered hand. The delicate scales beneath Seraph’s fingers were surprisingly warm, smooth like polished gemstone yet alive with a faint hum of energy that she could feel reverberating through her palm.

“Hello, my friend,” Seraph whispered, her voice barely audible, yet it seemed to carry effortlessly to the dragon’s keen ears. Lunara responded with a deep, resonant rumble, the sound vibrating through the air and into Seraph’s chest. Its long tail, lined with thin, elegant spines, curled lightly around its feet in a contented gesture, while its great wings shifted subtly, catching the breeze.

Seraph’s hand lingered on Lunara’s cheek for a moment longer before she stepped to the dragon’s side. Her movements were fluid and precise as she adjusted her robes, the silken fabric cascading neatly around her form. With a graceful motion, she placed one foot against Lunara’s lowered foreleg, the dragon’s muscles flexing just enough to provide a secure hold. She hoisted herself onto its back with practiced ease, her posture upright and poised as she settled into place.

Lunara straightened, lifting its head high as it felt its rider secure. Its wings gave a gentle twitch, unfurling slightly as though testing the air. Seraph’s hands rested lightly on the smooth ridge of the dragon’s neck, her touch both commanding and reverent. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice carrying a rare softness, a reflection of the trust that had grown between them.

Lunara responded with another low rumble, a sound that conveyed not only acknowledgment but a quiet pride in its rider. The dragon’s tail flicked once, a small yet deliberate motion, before it stilled entirely, awaiting the signal to join the others in flight.

Elira bounded toward her dragon, Ignis, with her usual boisterous energy. Ignis, a magnificent creature with scales that shimmered like molten metal, stood out even among the other dragons. The fiery orange hues of its hide seemed to radiate a subtle warmth, giving the impression that the dragon was perpetually wrapped in the embers of a fading fire. Its sharp, intelligent amber eyes tracked her approach, narrowing slightly as if already anticipating the chaos she would bring.

Without hesitation, Elira vaulted onto Ignis’s back in one swift, practiced motion. Her boots thudded lightly against its broad shoulders as she landed, but the dragon reacted immediately. Ignis snapped its head around, fixing her with a withering glare, its ridged horns framing a face full of exasperation. Smoke curled lazily from its nostrils, the fiery orange glow deep in its throat flaring briefly as it let out a loud, pointed snort.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Elira protested, her voice carrying a mix of indignation and amusement. She leaned forward, giving the dragon a firm yet affectionate pat on its thick, muscular neck. The warmth emanating from its scales seeped through her gloves, a reminder of Ignis’s fiery nature. “You’re strong, aren’t you? This is nothing for a beast like you.”

Ignis wasn’t convinced. It rolled its eyes—an almost comical expression for a creature of its size and majesty—and let out another puff of smoke, this one larger and more dramatic. The exhale carried an unmistakable air of disdain, as if the dragon was saying, You’re heavier than you think. Its powerful tail gave a sharp flick, stirring up a small cloud of dust behind it, and its wings shifted slightly in irritation.

“Come on, don’t be such a drama queen,” Elira teased, giving the dragon’s neck an affectionate rub. “I’m not that heavy.”

Ignis snorted again, the sound almost like a grumble, but the tension in its massive frame eased. With a grudging sigh, it shifted its weight, its clawed feet digging slightly into the earth as it adjusted to accommodate her. Its muscles rippled beneath its glowing scales, a display of strength that belied its theatrical annoyance.

“There we go,” Elira said with a grin, settling into place. She adjusted the straps of her saddle with quick, efficient movements, her hands moving deftly over the worn leather. Ignis, still grumbling under its breath, stretched its long neck forward and flared its nostrils one last time before settling down.

As if to make a point, the dragon gave a sudden jolt, lifting its hindquarters slightly off the ground and causing Elira to lurch forward with a startled yelp. “Ignis!” she shouted, clutching onto the saddle for balance. The dragon let out a rumbling sound that was unmistakably a chuckle before finally holding still, its amber eyes glinting with mischievous satisfaction.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Elira muttered, adjusting herself again. She couldn’t help but smile despite her mock annoyance, giving the dragon a final pat. “You’re lucky I like you, you oversized lizard.”

Ignis snorted again, this time more softly, and gave its wings an experimental flap, clearly ready to take to the skies. The warmth of its scales pulsed faintly against Elira’s legs, a silent acknowledgment of the bond between them—even if it came with a healthy dose of sass.

Magnus approached Verdan with his usual calm confidence, his slender frame moving with purpose yet exuding a gentleness that mirrored his dragon’s temperament. Verdan, a colossal green-scaled creature, waited patiently, its emerald hide shimmering in the light as if the scales were laced with strands of sunlight itself. Its massive head lowered gracefully, pale green eyes filled with wisdom and warmth meeting Magnus’s steady gaze.

Perched atop Magnus’s shoulder, Pip twitched its tiny ears, clearly eager to interact with the dragon. As Verdan’s head came closer, the little creature scampered down Magnus’s arm and leapt onto the dragon’s broad snout. The contrast between the tiny furred figure and the enormous beast was striking, but Verdan remained still, its great body radiating a sense of trust. Pip settled down, gripping lightly with its tiny paws as its whiskers twitched, curiously exploring the dragon’s rough texture.

Magnus smiled, his expression softening as he rested his hands on either side of Verdan’s snout. The warmth of the dragon’s scales seeped into his palms, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice low and soothing. “You’ve done well, my friend,” he murmured, his tone laced with quiet gratitude and a deep bond forged through countless trials.

Verdan rumbled in response, a sound deep and resonant, vibrating the very air around them. It wasn’t just a sound—it was a feeling, a reassurance shared between dragon and rider. The massive beast nudged Magnus gently, its snout pressing against his chest, and for a moment, they stayed like that: two beings of immense strength sharing a moment of mutual respect and affection.

As Verdan slowly lifted its head, Pip wobbled slightly, the sudden movement making its tiny claws scramble for grip. Magnus chuckled softly, his emerald eyes glimmering with warmth. He brushed a strand of hair behind his ear, his gentle nature radiating in the way he moved and spoke. “Careful now, Pip. Verdan wouldn’t let you fall, but let’s not tempt fate.” The tiny creature let out an indignant squeak, clearly unwilling to be dislodged from its perch, and balanced itself with a determined flick of its tail. Verdan rumbled again, the sound softer this time, almost amused by the little one’s antics.

Magnus chuckled once more, brushing his hand gently along Verdan’s jaw in a reassuring gesture. “Thank you, Verdan,” he said again, the sincerity in his voice carrying the weight of the trials they had just endured. Verdan seemed to understand, lowering its wings slightly as if bowing, before straightening to its full, imposing height.

With a final glance, Magnus turned, adjusting his robes as he moved to climb atop Verdan’s broad back. Pip settled securely between Verdan’s horns, its tiny form almost comically out of place but entirely at ease. Verdan gave one final low rumble, its tail swishing slowly behind it, as if ready to carry its companions wherever the road might lead next.

Finally, Caelus approached Azurath, his sleek, blue-scaled dragon, its shimmering hide catching the faintest traces of sunlight as if it had captured a piece of the sky itself. Azurath’s luminous eyes, deep and otherworldly, regarded him with a quiet intelligence that seemed to penetrate to his very thoughts. The dragon shifted its weight subtly, adjusting its stance as if sensing the lingering tension that Caelus carried.

Without hesitation, Caelus swung himself onto Azurath’s broad back, the smooth scales cool beneath his gloved hands. He paused for a moment, patting the dragon’s neck with an absentminded affection. “Good to have you at my side, Azurath,” he murmured under his breath, though the words felt as much for himself as for his companion. Azurath rumbled softly in response, its body vibrating with a calm reassurance.

Reaching into his inventory, Caelus retrieved a folded map, the parchment crackling faintly in the still air. His brow furrowed as his eyes scanned the carefully marked paths and landmarks. Satisfied, he passed the map to Darius, who stood a few paces away. The dragonborn unfolded it with ease, his sharp eyes quickly taking in their route.

With a sharp whistle and a powerful sweep of his massive black wings, Darius launched into the sky, his halberd gleaming faintly in the light. He gestured for the dragons to follow, leading the way with commanding precision.

Azurath tensed for a moment before leaping into the air, its powerful muscles propelling it skyward with a grace that belied its size. The rush of wind pressed against Caelus as they ascended, but he leaned into it, his focus sharpening as the forest below began to blur into a patchwork of greens and browns. Around him, the other dragons rose into formation, their wings beating in a rhythm that created a low, resonant hum in the air.