The red dragon

The ancient parchment slipped from Elira's hands as a violent thud rocked the ground beneath their feet. Dust spilled from the shelves, and several books toppled with a crash.

They froze.

"What was that?" she whispered.

Elric was already moving toward the stairwell. "Trouble."

They climbed fast, lantern swinging wildly, hearts hammering. As they reached the hall, another roar echoed—deep, guttural, bone-shaking.

And then—

Screams.

Elira gasped as they burst into the open courtyard. Nobles and guards were already rushing through the corridors in panic.

"Elric—what the hell is that sound!?"

He didn't answer.

Because just then, they both looked up.

And the sky was no longer blue.

A massive dragon, covered in red scales like molten armor, hovered above the highest tower. Its wings spanned nearly the full breadth of the palace roof, casting a blood-colored shadow over everything.

Its eyes burned bright gold, and fire rippled from its open maw as it released another earth-shattering roar.

"By the gods..." Elira breathed.

"That's not just a dragon," Elric said, jaw clenched. "That's blood-born. That's ancient. It's a war creature."

Guards scrambled to the battlements with crossbows and enchanted blades, but the beast remained out of reach, circling like a predator toying with its prey.

"What does it want!?" Elira cried over the chaos.

A guard raced by, yelling, "It came from the East cliffs! The wards didn't detect it—it passed through like the wind!"

"Dragons don't pass through undetected," Elric muttered darkly. "Not unless someone let it in."

"Are you saying it was sent here?!"

Elric didn't answer.

The dragon swooped lower, just above the grand hall's dome. The entire roof trembled, and a decorative spire came crashing down into the courtyard with a violent crash.

Nobles screamed.

Children sobbed.

The air smelled of smoke, fear, and fire barely restrained.

"Elric!" Elira turned to him, panicked. "What do we do?!"

He grabbed her arm firmly. "You stay with me. Don't run. And whatever happens—don't get separated."

The dragon let out a sound like grinding metal as it perched—yes, perched—on one of the spires, claws sinking into stone like it was butter.

Then, from its throat, a booming, echoing voice rumbled—not just sound, but magic.

 "Return the girl who passed through mirrors... or burn with her fate."

The palace fell into silence.

Elira's heart stopped.

"Elric," she whispered, "they're talking about me."

He pulled her behind him instinctively. "Over my dead body."