Seerin Elvesbane landed her green dragon on the chained platform of Highwatch Keep with proof no one wanted. The magic was real. She had seen a village drink itself dry of color, stone turning to gray dust, and she had flown here to swear her sword against it. For two hundred years, her kind lived as myth. Now the king had called them back, and she meant to answer. She unbuckled her sealed helmet and hooked it to her belt. Kael dismounted beside her, brushing wind-tangled brown hair from his face. "You still think one vow fixes any of this?" he asked. "No," Seerin said. "But it starts something." Berrick waited at the top of the stair, the lead rider, gray hair loose, one eye covered by a patch. He looked older than the myths made him sound. "Speak plain to the king," he told her. "He'll want the truth, not comfort. He's the only man alive who knew it was coming." They climbed to the throne room. Red curtains hung from dark wood beams. King Aldric stood before his throne in a red coat, short beard framing a tired face. Beside him sat Queen Elowyn, quiet, her eyes moving over Seerin like she was reading a page. And near the window, a young woman in a bold purple gown turned from the books stacked at her feet. "You rode a dragon," the princess said, crossing the floor before anyone could stop her. Her braid swung down her back. "Is it warm? Does it speak? How high can it climb before the air runs out?" "Sara," the queen said gently. "It's a fair question," Seerin answered. "High enough that I need a helmet to breathe. They do speak. And my cloak keeps me warm." The king raised a hand. The room went still. "You've seen it, then. The rot." "A village, three days east," Seerin said. "Turned to dust while I watched. It moves with a will. It hunts." She knelt on the wood floor with Berrick and Kael and drew her blade, laying it flat before the throne. "I came to swear my life to Veyrun. And my protection to the princess." King Aldric's shoulders eased, as if he had carried this weight alone too long. "Rise, rider. I accept your oath." Seerin stood. She turned to Sara and set a gloved hand over her heart. "Where you go, I go. I'll keep you from the dark that's coming." Sara's smile faltered. She had heard the word magic. A myth, a story mother’s told to keep their children from staying out past dark. It was real. So were the dragons. Seerin's hand tightened on her sword. The vow was sworn. The threat remained elusive.