Bracken freezes at the ward edge, one hand out toward the bend. The green line shivers between sanctuary and dark as the grinding sound grows louder.

The Elder Knight turns fully to the first dragon, one gauntlet lifted in question. The other wardens hold their posts, waiting for the next command.

At once, the ward brightens around the nest, answering the first dragon's choice with a firmer glow. Bracken edges back into guard position, while the knights square up to either reinforce the barrier or press into the bend.

The sound comes from beyond the ward, close enough to test the boundary.

Bracken plants themself at the ward edge and stops retreating. The green thread tightens, bright as a drawn line, while the first dragon lets the outer sentry take the strain.

The ward answers with a steadier pulse, and the air beyond the bend dulls under its touch. The knights loosen their shoulders, each one settling into a cleaner, stronger watch around the nest.

A low scrape sounds from the dark, but it finds no weakness to bite. Instead, the glow pushes outward a handspan farther, sealing the sanctuary’s mouth with a firmer green seam.

Inside the alcove, the newborn dragon lifts its head at the stronger light, calmer now. Beyond the bend, the distant pressure remains, waiting for a choice.