One suspended name ignites gold instead of silver. From its radiance emerges Aurelith, an ancient female dragon in diminished, translucent form, with a long angular muzzle and glowing amber eyes, her spectral scales crossed by blackened vein-like scars.
Her vast, half-seen wings fold within the chamber’s air. She fixes her gaze upon the black crown and blood-mark encircling Varhukan’s wrist, while the remaining names recoil from her presence.
Aurelith
That mark. I know the hand that forged its hunger, though I never believed its seal would pass to another.
The pale soul and faceless claimant draw closer to Varhukan, their shared tether tightening. The dark ember hovers near his shoulder, while the living shadow lowers itself in wary obedience.
the dark ember
Aurelith remembers the Crownless Witness. Her memory may strengthen what your blood has claimed, master.
Aurelith
Do not call that possession a victory, young dragon. The Witness does not surrender servants. It plants them.
Gold fire spreads through the chamber’s spiral. Names flee into darkness, leaving Aurelith isolated beneath the open threshold as the black crown pulses against Varhukan’s wrist.