Dusk painted the Lionhart Estate in shades of deepening purple as the Night Dragon descended toward the central courtyard. Dudu's powerful wings stirred the air, obsidian scales gleaming with unnatural luminosity against the fading light. Guards stationed along the perimeter stepped back instinctively, their trained discipline wavering in the presence of something beyond conventional understanding.
Klaus dismounted with fluid grace that belied the profound transformations wrought within him. White hair moved around his perfect features despite the absence of wind, catching dying sunlight with prismatic intensity. The patterns etched into his skin—remnants of the convergence ritual—had receded to subtle traceries that occasionally pulsed with internal light.
