Poppy's Adventure

The broken forge-light in the chamber finally answers the riddle of that earlier red glow. It is the old fire, not a warning, but a living power Vael has been holding down inside himself.

His scales blaze from within, the flicker becoming a steady, terrible radiance. The shape of him swells, reforms, and this time does not strain or slip.

Vael rises in full draconic form, larger than the altar, larger than the passage, and perfectly whole. The chamber ceiling groans over him as his wings open like vast living banners.

He scoops Poppy up with sudden ease, cradling her against the heat of his chest, and the old fire hums around them like a shield. His strength does not falter.

Behind them, Cinder-Caller Veyr staggers in the dust, his control severed. The Armored Shapes reel, their menace broken by the collapse of the ritual.

Vael beats once, then again, and the remaining stone bursts apart overhead. Light and debris fall away as he carries Poppy toward freedom.

Poppy locks both arms tighter around Vael’s neck ridge as the air drops away beneath them. His ascent steadies her, and the dragonfire heat holds her fast against the rush of falling stone.

She is lifted clear of the chamber floor, tucked secure against his chest while debris snaps past where she had been. The ruined altar drops out of sight below.

Veyr scrambles in the dust at the shattered altar, but the surviving threads of ritual light gutter and fail around his hands.

The Armored Shapes stumble in broken formation, one raising a shield too late as the ceiling tears open wider above them.

Vael drives upward through the opening, carrying Poppy into the pale air beyond the chamber, while the black-stone room collapses behind them.