Saphira stepped closet, the eerie silence of the ruins pressing in around her. The skeletal remains of the dragonsy motionless, they <b>russed </b>i around their bones like remnants of an unbroken curse. She hade here searching for something for Niks. But as the searched <b>due </b>area,
twisted with unease.
There was nothing.
No scent. No footprints. No trace of him at all.
Her pulse thrummed with frustration. He had led her here. The trail had pointed to this ce. And yet, there was no sign he had ever stepped fait bolide,
She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus, to look deeper. Her gaze swept over the broken stone, the tangled remains of time worn rains. Then- something caught her eye.
Near thergest skeleton, half–buried in the dirt, was a pendant.
Saphira crouched, brushing away the dust<b>, </b>revealing a gemstone–a deep, rich red that shimmered even in the dim moonlight. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, its brilliance undiminished by age or decay.
A dragon’s gemstone.
Her fingers curled around it, a strange <b>reverence </b>settling over her <b>as </b>she turned it over in her palm. The craftsmanship was delicate, precise, <b>and </b>there<b>–</b>just barely visible–<b>was </b>an ancient engraving along the metal edges. A marking. A name.
This had belonged to one of them. One of the fallen dragons still trapped in their chains.
She swallowed hard, dread creeping through her spine. What had happened here? Why were they left to rot, still bound even in <b>death</b>?
She had been so sure she was following Niks‘ trail. But now, standing amidst the ruins <b>of </b>something <b>far </b>older, far more sinister, she realized-
She had uncovered something else entirely.
And Niks was nowhere to be found.
Saphira moved cautiously, scanning the space around her with sharp, deliberate focus. The towering pirs loomed overhead, their ancient <b>stone </b>cracked with age, casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. She inhaled slowly, listening–waiting–but the forest beyond remained still.
She wasn’t taking any chances.
Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her weapon as she circled the clearing, checking behind each pir for any sign of movement<b>, </b>any lurking <b>presence </b>hidden in the ruins. Her breath came steady, controlled, though tension coiled in her chest, ready to strike <b>if </b><b>she </b>needed to.
But as shepleted her sweep, she exhaled, forcing herself to rx<b>. </b>Clear. At least, for now.
With caution still lingering in her movements, she turned her attention back to the pirs themselves. The towering structures bore markings<b>–</b>faint, hidden beneathyers of dust. Frowning, she stepped closer, reaching out carefully to brush away the thickyer <b>of </b>time–worn debris. The dust stirred into the air, making her cough as she uncovered the designs beneath.
Symbols. Names. Or something <b>close </b>to them.
Each pir was different, etched with unique inscriptions that reminded her of gravestones–silent tributes to whatever had once <b>existed </b>here.
Her pulse quickened. What did they mean? Who had carved them?
She traced her fingers over the rough stone, frustration growing as the symbols remained unreadable. But she wouldn’t <b>leave </b><b>then</b>.
would know.
<b>cumented</b><b>. </b>Niks
Pulling out the phone he had given her, she quickly began snapping pictures, careful to capture <b>every </b>detail. If these markings <b>held answers</b><b>, </b><b>she </b>was <b>going </b>to find them.
CHAPTER <b>33 </b>
<b>Whatever </b><b>had </b>happened here—whatever had led her to these bones, these chains, this rain–it <b>wasn’t </b><b>just </b>history,
<b>Saphira </b>secured <b>the </b><b>phone </b><b>in </b>her pack, ensuring the photos were safe before she stepped <b>away </b>from the pillers She had gathered all de <b>but </b>still, there were no signs of Niks—no trace that he had ever set foot in this ce. Frustration burned beneath <b>her </b><b>skin</b>, but she forward. She wasn’t done searching.
<b>She </b>climbed to the opposite side of the ruins, her boots scraping against the worn stone as she pulled herself up to the highest <b>vantage </b>poise. If its left her a trail, then maybe–just maybe she could see something beyond these ancient walls.
She scanned the horizon, trying to sharpen her focus, though it did little to help. If only she had the eyes of a werewolf. The thought gnawed <b>at </b>her bitter and unforgiving. If she had been born different, if she had shifted like she was supposed to, maybe she wouldn’t feel so blind in moments like <b>this</b>. Maybe tracking wouldn’t be such a struggle.
Her heart clenched at the thought, but she forced it down. It wouldn’t help her now<i>. </i>
Just as she was about to admit defeat, ready to climb back down, something flickered in the distance<i>. </i>
A spark. Then–gone.
Saphira held her breath, waiting, watching. A fire. Faint<b>, </b>quick, disappearing almost as
<b>fast </b>as
it appeared–but unmistakable.
Someone was there.
A fresh surge of determination filled her. She didn’t know who had lit that fire<b>, </b><b>but </b><b>right </b>now, it <b>was </b>her only lead. And she wasn’t about <b>to </b>ignore <b>it</b><b>. </b>
She climbed down, steadied herself, and set off in its direction.
She would find out who <b>was </b>waiting beyond the ruins–and whether they had <b>answers </b><b>she </b>desperately
needed.
Saphira moved swiftly<b>, </b>careful to keep her steps light as she followed the direction of <b>the </b>fire <b>she </b>had glimpsed moments ago. The darkness pressed <b>around </b>her, thick with silence, broken only by the asional rustling of <b>leaves </b>beneath her <b>boots</b><b>. </b><b>She </b>strained her <b>ears</b><b>, </b>listening, <b>waiting </b><b>for </b>any signs of movement–voices, footsteps, anything to confirm she wasn’t alone.
But there was nothing.
Just the emptiness of the forest stretching before her, quiet and unyielding.
Still, she pressed forward, the memory of that flickering me driving her deeper into the unknown. It had been brief, almost too quick to catch, but she had seen it. That meant someone–or something–was nearby.
She nced upward, searching between the dense canopy for the sky above. Clouds had begun to roll in, dimming the few stars that had managed to peek through earlier. If she wasn’t careful, she would lose her way.
Then–a second flicker.
Her breath hitched as she spotted it again, faint but unmistakable, the glow of fire barely visible beyond the thick treeline.
And that’s when she heard it.
A sound so deep, so primal, it made the ground beneath her vibrate.
A roar.
Not human. Not anything natural she had <b>ever </b>encountered.
A dragon.
Saphira froze, heart mming against her ribs as the echo of the beast’s cry thundered through the <b>trees</b><b>. </b>She <b>stood </b><b>there </b><b>for </b><b>half </b><b>a </b><b>second</b><b>, </b><b>gripping </b><b>her </b>de tightly, pulse hammering as she tried to process what she had just heard.
Had she found him? Was it Niks? Or was this something else entirely?
She swallowed hard, pushing down the spike of fear crawling up her spine.
There was only one way to lind out.
Steeling herself, she forced her feet forward, toward the fire. Toward the roar. Toward whatever waited for her in the darkness. And she would not turn back.
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