CHAPTER 24: CHAPTER 24 - THAT WENT SMOOTHLY.

The sun burned bright above the treetops, its warmth spilling in scattered rays through the dense canopy of Rugrada.

Birds chirped lazily, and the forest hummed a steady rhythm of life. Yet, within a small hut made of woven branches and leaves, the air was heavy, still.

A girl sat on the edge of a makeshift bed—a simple frame stacked with layers of leaves that rustled softly whenever she shifted. Her hair, long and silver-grey, spilled over her shoulders like strands of mist.

Her back arched slightly forward as wings of the same color folded tightly against her trembling frame.

Right now, her hands clutched the sides of the bed as though anchoring herself.

Her name was Selene.

Her eyes, normally soft and gentle, were clenched shut, brows furrowed in pain and concentration.

Her breathing came uneven and ragged, but she didn’t stop.

Because she was trying to see again—she was trying to reach her.

She wanted to find the thread that always guided her when the world grew too sharp, too merciless.

Her ability—the one that let her glimpse safe paths—let her nudge fate just enough to keep breathing another day.

It was the same ability she had used when Lyra said she was going after Rue and Rina.

But now... There was nothing.

Every time Selene reached out, she found only static, as if her vision slammed against a wall.

She couldn’t move past it as if something was trying to stop her from doing so.

Her fingers curled tighter against the bedding, jaw clenched. "Come on... please, just show me..."

She pushed harder, her body shuddering under the strain.

For a moment, she thought she caught a flicker—something or someone—but then, like smoke in a storm, it vanished.

Her eyes snapped open.

The hut swam around her, light stabbing at her sight until she finally slumped back onto the mattress of leaves, the air rushing out of her chest in a defeated sigh.

"...Please be alive, Lyra," she whispered, her voice breaking against the silence.

The memory came unbidden—the day Rue and Rina were stolen.

Selene had been useless. Her body, frail since birth, barely allowed her to move without fatigue.

She could do nothing but cry as her youngest siblings were dragged away, their voices fading into the forest.

But Lyra wasn’t like her. She was strong and fierce when she needed to be, so she hadn’t hesitated.

She had promised she would get them back.

Selene had only been able to help in one way: she used her power, peering down paths that twisted with blood and ruin.

In that vision, she had seen something she wished she had never seen.

A dragon.

A beast out of myths, scales black as night, eyes gold like burning suns.

She didn’t need someone to tell her whether it was a real dragon—she could instinctively tell.

But the instant she saw it, those eyes turned. They looked back at her.

Her connection shattered like glass, her heart nearly stopping in her chest.

No entity had ever noticed her peering before. Not once. But this dragon had stared straight at her, as though amused, as though curious.

She should have told Lyra nothing.

Yet... the threads of survival had all pointed toward the dragon. To that lake, to that impossible being.

So, she told Lyra.

Her sister hadn’t believed her, not really.

But she had listened—and that was more than enough. Selene had comforted herself by thinking Lyra wouldn’t approach unless desperate.

But now—with her vision blocked entirely—Selene’s doubts were gnawing her alive.

What if she had sent Lyra to her death?

What if Rue and Rina were already—

Boom!

A sound loud enough to make her think the sky had exploded echoed through the surroundings.

Then came the wind. It was fierce and fast, almost causing the hut to break apart, but it miraculously didn’t.

Then came another sound.

It started faintly, like distant thunder, but grew quickly—shouts, cries, and the cacophony of voices carried through the forest air.

Some of them were shrill with terror, others wild with excitement, and others simply yelling for the sake of it.

Selene bolted upright, clutching at her chest.

She stumbled outside the hut, wings twitching in alarm.

Whenever there was danger, her ability alerted her, but right now, it seemed to be malfunctioning.

Normally, she shouldn’t be going out in cases like this, but she knew that in the hut, she would be nothing but a sitting duck.

So, she moved toward the makeshift door of the hut.

The sound, on the other hand, peaked, and then, just as suddenly, it began to fade, dwindling into muffled echoes.

But no one was around. The forest stretched as it always had, calm and empty.

She frowned, gripping her head. ’Maybe I was imagining it?’

It was possible, as there were always some backlashes when she used her ability.

But then she frowned.

Something wasn’t right.

There was an itchy sensation on the back of her neck, which she only felt when she was forgetting something or unknowingly ignoring something.

Then she noticed it.

The sunlight had dimmed.

It was as if clouds had gathered overhead. It was strange when the day had been clear only moments before.

Slowly, with her heart pounding, Selene lifted her gaze.

The moment she did, she froze.

A shadow blanketed her hut and the clearing around it, vast enough to swallow fields whole. There, in the sky... black wings covered the sun.

There was a dragon.

Its wingspan stretched nearly one hundred and forty meters, and its body was huge and intimidating, with scales glinting faintly with a metallic sheen as it floated, impossibly, in the sky.

Its tail stretched endlessly, its sheer presence drowning the forest in silent awe.

But that wasn’t the most surreal part.

No, the most surreal part was that more than two hundred people were floating in strange, bobbing poses around it, all carried aloft like children’s toys.

But it wasn’t just people—there was a hulking bear the size of a carriage twisted in a ridiculous midair sprawl, paws twitching as though it had no idea what to do with its limbs.

Selene’s grey eyes went wide, her heart slamming against her ribs.

She wanted to scream. She tried to pray.

But she couldn’t because her heart rate had spiked so high that her weak body gave out.

Instead, her world tilted, her knees buckled, and she collapsed backward in a faint.

Above, the dragon—Kael—tilted his head slightly, golden eyes narrowing in lazy thought.

"Well," he muttered, his voice a rumble that carried in the air. "That went smoothly."

It was then, from his back, a soft sigh broke the silence.

"...I expected that," Lyra murmured, her eyes lingering on the fainted figure below, her words carrying no judgment, only a weary acceptance.

Kael’s massive head tilted, golden eyes narrowing in mock puzzlement as his voice rolled like distant thunder.

"I didn’t think I was that intimidating."

A little voice quickly piped up before Lyra could respond.

Rue, her tail swishing excitedly behind her, leaned over the scales and waved down at the unconscious Selene.

"Not to me! You’re not scary at all, big brother!" She said brightly, grinning wide as if being carried by an ancient, godlike beast was the most natural thing in the world.

Beside her, Rina tugged lightly on her sister’s sleeve before whispering, almost shyly, "You look... cool."

Her quiet voice carried just enough for Kael’s sharp ears to catch.

The dragon’s maw curved into something like a smirk, a low chuckle vibrating through the air. "Right?"

Evethra, wearing her maid uniform like always, pressed a pale hand over her chest and inclined her head.

"You look majestic, Master," the vampire maid added, her tone velvety with certainty, as though stating a fact of nature.

Lyra blinked. Her gaze swept across Rue’s beaming face, Rina’s soft admiration, and Evethra’s serene composure, all in agreement with the dragon.

She opened her mouth, thought better of it, and let it close again, left in stunned silence.

Then came the softest touch—Alenia, seated cross-legged at her side, reached over and patted Lyra’s shoulder.

She said no words. It was merely that quiet gesture and her eyes saying everything her lips did not. ’I get it. I understand.’

Lyra exhaled slowly, staring blankly at them all before dragging a hand down her face.

"...Unbelievable."

It was then—

"You know what’s really unbelievable?"

—A sudden voice cut through the air, gruff and rumbling, but distinctly sulky. Everyone’s heads turned in unison.

The source?

A giant earth bear.

He was still floating helplessly in the air, limbs stiff and awkward, suspended like a child’s toy by the dragon’s invisible grip. His ears twitched, and his little black eyes narrowed with accusation.

"That all of us," he huffed, swiping a paw through the air, "are still dangling up here with no control over our movements whatsoever!"

Rue gasped so hard her tail puffed. She clapped her tiny hands together, eyes sparkling.

"Waaah, Mr. Bear looks like a balloon tied to a string! Big brother, big brother—if we let go, do you think he’ll float away?!"

Kael—still in his towering dragon form—tilted his massive head toward her, the corners of his great maw curving in the faintest suggestion of a smile.

His voice rolled like velvet thunder, smooth and teasing. "Maybe. Though it seems he’s more concerned about his dignity than the miracle of flight."

"Dignity?!" the bear barked back indignantly. His paws flailed once more, which only made him spin slowly in midair. "Do I look dignified right now?! I look like a sack of turnips!"

At that, Rina, perched against Kael’s shoulder, pressed both hands to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Her eyes darted shyly toward the bear, then back to Kael, whispering, "...He does."