The first light of dawn spilled gently across the horizon, painting the sky with delicate hues of pink and orange that melted into the lingering shadows of night. The air was crisp and cool, carrying with it the earthy scent of dew-kissed grass and the faint musk of the nearby stables. Caelus stood at the edge of the royal stables, his boots sinking slightly into the damp ground as he stifled a yawn.

Lorian stood beside him, cradling Cheese against his chest. The small slime wobbled faintly, its gelatinous body rippling in response to the morning chill. Still half-asleep, it let out a soft, comical yawn—a slow, undulating ripple that mirrored Caelus’s own grogginess.

Caelus chuckled, a quiet sound that broke the stillness of the early morning. “Even Cheese is tired,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes to shake off the lingering traces of sleep. He could feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at him, his muscles still heavy from the previous day’s exertion.

Around them, the world began to stir. The faint rustle of leaves danced in the breeze, and the distant chirping of birds heralded the arrival of another day. The stables creaked faintly as the dragons shifted within, their deep breaths audible even from outside. The warm, hay-laden scent of the stables mingled with the crisp morning air, a familiar and oddly comforting combination.

Lorian glanced at Caelus, a small smile tugging at his lips. “We should have stayed in bed,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“Do we always have to meet at first light?” Caelus muttered under his breath, his tone heavy with exasperation and just a touch of sleep-deprived bitterness. His eyes, still half-lidded with grogginess, squinted against the gentle golden light creeping over the horizon. The early morning chill clung to his skin, a reminder of the restless night he’d endured.

Sleep had eluded him, thanks to the unexpected chaos in their soulbound interface. What had begun as a peaceful evening quickly spiraled into something else entirely.

Caelus had been sprawled on his cot, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling above, his thoughts meandering as the quiet hum of the stable surrounded him. The faint scent of hay mingled with the earthy musk of dragons, and the occasional snort or shuffle from the creatures outside provided a soothing backdrop. Across the room, Lorian sat cross-legged on his blanket, bathed in the soft glow of a conjured light orb. He was scrolling idly through his Stats, his brows furrowed in concentration. Cheese, comfortably nestled in his lap, emitted contented ripples as Lorian absentmindedly stroked its gelatinous surface.

It should have been a quiet night. But peace, as Caelus was quickly learning, was a luxury their group rarely enjoyed.

Without warning, his soulbound interface flared to life, the ethereal blue screen erupting before him like a starburst. The sudden light was blinding in the dim room, and Caelus winced, instinctively shielding his face. “Ugh, what the—” he groaned, blinking rapidly as his vision adjusted.

Across the room, Lorian looked up, startled, while Cheese jiggled in surprise, letting out a high-pitched bloop. “What’s going on?” Lorian asked, leaning forward to peer at Caelus’s interface.

The glowing display pulsed with a faint hum, and a notification popped up—a message from Elira.

“So, what time are we meeting up tomorrow?” her message read, followed almost immediately by Riven’s terse reply: First light at the royal stables. A cheeky thumbs-up sticker from Darius followed, his digital avatar grinning smugly.

“Of course it’s first light,” Caelus muttered, flopping back onto his cot with a groan.

Magnus’s reply was polite as ever: Sounds good. Elira’s enthusiastic response arrived seconds later: Great! Don’t oversleep, you lot!

Caelus stared at the screen, feeling a mix of amusement and dread. “Why does she sound so excited about this?” he mumbled, rubbing his temples.

Lorian chuckled softly, leaning back against the wall. “You know Elira. She probably sees it as another grand adventure.” He swiped a finger through his own interface, scrolling past a few updates. “Besides, you’ll manage. You’re used to early mornings by now.”

“Doesn’t mean I like them,” Caelus shot back, though his voice lacked real bite. The corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself as Cheese let out another bloop, seemingly in agreement.

With the messages lingering in their interfaces, the rest of the night had been a tug-of-war between feigned indifference and the creeping anxiety of whatever awaited them at dawn. Now, standing in the chill of early morning, Caelus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

First light. Always first light.

Now, in the crisp stillness of the morning, Caelus couldn’t shake the heavy cloak of fatigue draped over him. He blinked away lingering sleep and scanned the stable grounds, his gaze settling on Riven. She was already there, leaning effortlessly against the weathered wooden wall of the stable. Her posture exuded the kind of practiced ease that made her appear as though she had been there for hours, despite the early hour.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, the faint hint of a smirk tugging at her lips, as if amused by some private joke. Her dark eyes were closed, but Caelus had no doubt that her keen awareness extended to every detail of her surroundings. The faint, rhythmic sway of her foot—one leg propped lazily against the wall—added to her air of nonchalant confidence.

The morning light filtered softly through the canopy of clouds, casting long shadows that stretched across the ground. The muted palette of dawn seemed to enhance Riven’s sharp silhouette, her presence commanding even in stillness.

Caelus allowed himself a tired smile. tugging his cloak tighter against the morning chill. Riven, of course, remained motionless, her composure unbroken. She could have been carved from stone, for all the world knew, yet there was an undeniable vitality in her stillness—a readiness to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Even so, the relaxed rise and fall of her chest suggested that, at least for now, she was content to bask in the rare peace of the morning. If Riven had any complaints about their early start, she certainly wasn’t showing them.

Seraph stood a short distance away, her serene composure slightly softened as she engaged in quiet conversation with Magnus. The elf’s pale green hair swayed gently in the breeze, his expression calm and attentive as he listened. On Seraph’s shoulder, Pip was a lively contrast to her usual stoic demeanor. The little pipmunk’s big, round ears twitched with excitement as its tiny wings fluttered furiously to keep it balanced.

Despite her reserved nature, Seraph allowed the tiny creature to sniff her outstretched finger. To everyone’s surprise, a faint smile graced her lips, subtle but genuine, as Pip nuzzled against her neck. The small creature’s unabashed enthusiasm brought a moment of lightheartedness to the scene, its soft chirping blending with the gentle rustle of the surrounding grass.

Caelus approached with an easy smile, raising a hand in greeting. His strides were relaxed, yet there was a readiness in his movements, as if he were quietly savoring this calm before their next challenge. Magnus noticed him first and offered a warm wave, while Seraph inclined her head slightly, her silver eyes gleaming softly in acknowledgment. Pip, ever the exuberant one, mimicked their motions, its tiny paw waving excitedly as it chittered in delight.

“Only Elira and Darius left now,” Seraph remarked with a resigned chuckle, shaking her head lightly. Her voice carried a rare hint of amusement, the moment of levity making her seem more approachable. “They’re always late,” she added, her tone a mixture of fondness and mild exasperation.

Magnus chuckled, his emerald eyes twinkling. “Some things never change, I suppose,” he said, his voice light and melodic.

As the group stood there, the sun casting a golden glow over the open field and the distant dragons gliding through the air, it was easy to forget the challenges ahead. For now, the moment belonged to them—a fleeting slice of peace amid the storm.

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As if on cue, Elira’s vibrant laughter broke the tranquility of the morning, carrying across the open field like a joyful melody. She came sprinting into view, her fiery red hair streaming behind her in wild waves, catching the sunlight with each bounce of her stride. Her amber eyes sparkled with unrestrained amusement as she skidded to a halt near the group, panting lightly but clearly triumphant.

Not far behind her, Darius stumbled into view, a stark contrast to her carefree energy. His scaled frame was drenched in sweat, the dark red glint of his dragonborn scales glistening under the sun. He hunched over, bracing his hands on his knees, his labored breaths audible even from a distance.

“Okay, okay, you win,” Darius wheezed, his voice a gravelly mix of frustration and reluctant acknowledgment. He shot her a half-hearted glare, his sharp green eyes narrowing as if to accuse her of some unfair advantage.

Elira grinned mischievously, placing her hands on her hips as she turned to face him. “Told you I’d beat you. Maybe next time don’t challenge me to a race if you can’t keep up,” she teased, her tone light and full of playful triumph.

Darius groaned, waving her off with a clawed hand. “Next time, I’ll use Azurath. Let’s see you outrun a dragon.”

The group couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene, the tension of the morning melting away as Elira and Darius’s antics brought a burst of life to the moment. Even Pip squeaked gleefully from Seraph’s shoulder, clearly entertained by the spectacle.

“Morning exercise?” Lorian quipped, raising an eyebrow at Darius as the dragonborn finally straightened, still breathing heavily. Cheese tilted its gelatinous form, the slight wobble giving it an almost inquisitive demeanor. Its translucent body shifted hues, the bright yellow of its earlier amusement melting away into a serene, cool blue. The change rippled across its surface like water catching the light, and its smooth, rounded "head" leaned slightly to one side, as though trying to better understand what was happening. The gentle glow it emitted pulsed faintly, reflecting its calm curiosity.

“More like morning torture,” Darius muttered, his voice a mix of exhaustion and reluctant humor as he wiped the sweat streaming down his brow with the back of his hand. His crimson scales glistened with the effort, a sheen of sweat adding an almost molten gleam to his vivid red complexion. Despite the heavy breathing and aching muscles, a small, crooked smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, betraying the underlying amusement he couldn’t quite shake.

Seraph arched a delicate eyebrow, a hint of dry humor flickering across her usually composed face. She glanced at Darius with her silver eyes, the usual cool aloofness giving way to a flicker of camaraderie. “Glad you two finally made it,” she drawled, her tone laced with a playful dryness.

Elira flopped onto the grass beside Caelus with a satisfied sigh, stretching her arms behind her head. “We wouldn’t miss it,” she said breezily, shooting Darius a teasing look. “Even if someone here can’t keep up.”

Darius huffed, muttering something about unfair head starts as he joined the group, his presence grounding the easy camaraderie that had formed between them.

Elira’s laughter erupted with unrestrained, boisterous energy, a bright and carefree sound that rang out like a burst of sunlight through the tranquil morning. Her laughter was so loud and vibrant that it rippled through the nearby stables, disturbing the slumbering dragons inside. A few massive heads lifted from their resting spots, eyes narrowing with irritation. Their scales glistened even in the muted light, and their nostrils flared as they let out deep, annoyed snorts that rumbled through the air like distant thunder.

Wings rustled softly as some dragons stretched their limbs with a reluctant grace, the leathery membranes of their wings casting fleeting shadows over the stable walls. The peaceful atmosphere of the stables was momentarily pierced by a chorus of disgruntled growls and low huffs, a testament to the majestic creatures’ preference for undisturbed rest.

With everyone finally gathered, Darius took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeves, ready to get to work. The royal stables buzzed with the quiet rustle of dragons shifting in their stalls, their massive eyes watching him with a mix of curiosity and wariness. He moved with practiced efficiency, his hands deftly fastening the thick, scaled-up leather saddles and reins onto each dragon’s muscular back. The equipment was specially crafted to fit these colossal beasts, reinforced with sturdy stitching and metal fittings that gleamed even in the early light.

When Darius reached Elira’s dragon, Ignis, the fiery creature let out an annoyed huff that sent a brief cloud of hot air swirling through the stables. Ignis was a dragon with shimmering, ember-like scales that flickered with a deep, molten glow. He arched his neck, a flicker of irritation flashing in his topaz eyes as Darius tightened the strap across his chest.

“All set,” Darius said with a satisfied nod, a grin spreading across his face as he patted Ignis affectionately on the shoulder. The dragon’s scales felt warm under his touch, a testament to Ignis’s formidable presence.

But Ignis had other plans. With a sudden, powerful swipe of his thick, muscular tail, the dragon lashed out, the tip striking Darius square in the face with a sharp thwack. The sound echoed through the stables, and Darius stumbled backward, a muffled yelp escaping his lips as he clutched his now bruising nose.

“Ouch!” he groaned, his eyes watering slightly. But before he could say more, laughter erupted from the group. Lorian let out a carefree cackle, Seraph’s lips twitched upward in an uncharacteristic grin, and even Caelus snorted a hearty laugh, attempting to muffle it with his hand. The shared laughter filled the stables, a contagious wave of camaraderie that pushed away any tension.

Darius, rubbing his throbbing nose, managed a crooked grin through the discomfort. “Oh, very funny, Ignis,” he muttered, casting a playful, mock-glare at the dragon. Ignis, still exuding an air of fiery indifference, flicked his tail once more before settling into a more relaxed stance, content to let Darius deal with the aftermath of their brief encounter.

Lorian secured Cheese to his waist with a snug little harness, the small slime letting out a satisfied wiggle as it nestled into place. Its translucent body radiated a gentle, comforting glow of contentment, settling comfortably against the warm fabric of Lorian’s shirt. The bond between them felt natural, a quirky but reliable companionship that had become a constant presence in their group.

Nearby, Magnus raised his staff with a graceful wave, and a lush, twisting seat of ivy sprouted effortlessly from the ground. Pip, the exuberantly energetic pipmunk, chirped with delight as it leapt onto the new seat, its big round ears bouncing with excitement. The little creature nestled into the green haven, its small eyes sparkling with joy, a fluffy bundle of curiosity and cheer.

Caelus, his expression a mix of eagerness and contemplation, climbed onto Azurath. The blue dragon shifted slightly, turning his massive head to gaze at Caelus with eyes that gleamed like deep sapphire pools. A low, gravelly rumble emerged from Azurath’s throat, a sound that resonated in Caelus’s chest—a comforting growl that symbolized their bond.

Caelus patted Azurath’s neck, feeling the sturdy, warm scales beneath his touch. Yet, a flicker of uncertainty tugged at him. His blue eyes met the dragon’s gaze, a question he hadn’t quite voiced bubbling at the back of his mind. Did Azurath like him because he reminded the dragon of Vorrath, the ancient warlord whose life Caelus now inhabited? Or did Azurath truly see him, Caelus, for who he was, separate from the shadows of his past?

He shook off the doubt, a small smile flicking across his face. “Come on, Azurath,” he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of determination and hope. “Let’s show Kur’thar what we’re made of.”

“To Kur’thar!” Elira shouted, throwing her fist into the air.

“Shut up,” Riven growled, leaping onto Elira’s dragon to swat her on the head. The halfling’s small frame made her movements look almost weightless. She promptly hopped back onto her own dragon, Noctis, who let out an amused snort.

With a powerful beat of his red-scaled wings, Darius lifted off the ground, a surge of raw strength propelling him into the sky. The air roared in his ears as the massive form of his dragon climbed higher, muscles rippling beneath his scales. One by one, the other dragons followed, their wings slicing through the air with a collective grace and force that sent a visible ripple through the group. The champions settled into place on their dragon’s back, the cool wind rushing past their faces as the dragons soared higher, climbing above the forests and valleys below.

The landscape stretched out beneath them in a breathtaking panorama of emerald canopies and shimmering streams. Sunlight danced off the leaves, and distant mountains loomed on the horizon, their jagged peaks casting shadows across the terrain. The world became a blur of greens and browns as the dragons soared higher, a sensation of exhilaration and purpose settling over the group.

Caelus extended a hand to Lorian, his expression focused but resolute. Lorian, with his boundless energy and quick reflexes, guided his smaller dragon, Albaris, closer to Azurath, their eyes meeting briefly.

“Here,” Lorian said, pulling out a worn and slightly tattered map from his pack. The edges were frayed, the ink smudged in places, but the landmarks and routes were still legible. He handed the map to Caelus, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

Caelus carefully unfolded the map, the small creases catching the sunlight. His blue eyes traced the dotted lines and the names of towns and landmarks etched onto the paper. “If Ashenbrook took us a day to reach, Kur’thar will take at least two.” His brow furrowed as he examined the terrain, noting the twists of rivers, the sharp incline of nearby ridges, and the dense forests that would slow their progress.

“Good thing I prepared enough rations and sleeping bags for all of us,” Magnus called out, his calm, steady voice cutting through the rush of wind. His pale green hair fluttered back as he sat tall on his dragon, a serene smile gracing his face even amidst the whirlwind ascent.

Elira, her fiery energy unyielding as always, steered her dragon, Ignis, closer to Magnus. With a burst of exuberance, she threw an arm around his shoulder in a playful, slightly sloppy hug. Magnus stiffened momentarily, caught off guard by her sudden approach, but then he relaxed, a gentle laugh spilling from his lips.

Pip, perched on Magnus’s shoulder, let out an irritable chirp and tried to scratch at her arm, still tingling from the tiny electric shock Elira had inadvertently given it. The little pipmunk’s round ears twitched with annoyance as its small claws left faint red marks on her skin.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Elira declared with a grin, her laughter bubbling up and blending with the wind, a joyful contrast to the focus that marked the journey ahead. Her eyes sparkled with gratitude and mischief, a beacon of light even in the midst of their demanding trek.