Winter came and went.
Spring passed in a blink.
Summer followed, just as fleeting.
Before Velessa knew it, a whole year had slipped by.
Peter hadn't been seen since the night he spoke with Caldreya. He and Amelia had already departed. Venturing beyond the dome, beyond the spell that held the Nytherak at bay.
In his absence, Velessa studied. Every single day, under Caldreya's sharp gaze, she honed her magic relentlessly.
She perfected her original barrier, then crafted a new one for combat-honed it until it shimmered with precision. Confident in her progress, she began work on a storage-based spell.
But this one proved different.
Frustratingly complex, far beyond her current capabilities.
And it showed.
She had made her decision to use her own shadow as the foundation.
The eight laws she chose reflected her intent: To exist. To store. To protect. To obey. To move. To blend. To be infinite. And to return.
Each blending into an infinite storage she could use, sadly she could not remove any law to reduce the strain on her without messing up the magic circles completely.
So, she was left with a shadow-bound storage spell, a straining, chaotic, infinite bag buried in her shadow.
Over the past months, she'd learned more than just spellwork. Caldreya taught her about the Nytherak: their types, their hunting patterns, and how to survive them.
Elira had taken up the role of tutor in other matters: geography, history, even manners.
But the hardest lesson came quietly.
Caldreya told her, without flinching, that no other dragons had survived. The silence that followed lingered for days. And for a long time, Velessa didn't smile.
The truth is cruel for everyone. Even gods...
Today, Velessa and Caldreya stood at the threshold of the manor, the sun casting long shadows behind them.
"This year has been long for both of us, Velessa," Caldreya said, her smile soft but proud.
The young dragoness beside her no longer looked like the wide-eyed girl who had once stumbled into her care. Now, she stood taller, her features sharper-no longer a child, but something closer to a warrior in bloom.
"I've taught you most of what I can: magic theory, casting, and control. The rest..."
Caldreya's eyes glinted.
"You'll have to discover on your own. Now, you walk the path of madness without me."
Velessa frowned, her expression filled with quiet sorrow.
Caldreya chuckled at the sight. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I could've taught you more-perhaps even given you a lesson about love."
She grinned when Velessa's frown deepened, a trace of annoyance appearing on her cheeks.
"But alas..." Caldreya sighed, turning to face the horizon.
"My break is over. Duty calls. The world won't protect itself."
A portal appeared beside her. She waved with a smile on her face and went through.
"Hopefully we will see each other in the future."
And so Caldreya, one of the best archmages, resumed her duties. Despite not always being the most… conventional or competent in the traditional sense.
Velessa let out a long sigh and stepped back into the manor. The heavy door clicked shut behind her. Elira was already there, bowing with quiet grace.
"I need some time alone, Elira."
Velessa said, her voice tired but calm.
"As you wish, Lady Velessa," the maid replied gently, stepping aside without question.
Velessa trudged up the stairs, her steps slow and heavy. The moment she reached her room, she collapsed face-first onto her bed with a groan.
Over the past year, the room had undergone quite the transformation. What was once a sparsely decorated guest room had become a space that truly felt like hers. Deep violet curtains now framed the windows. Books lined the shelves-most about magic, a few about dragons, and one or two novels she would never admit to enjoying. A pair of plants bloomed quietly in the corners, their leaves shifting faintly with her presence.
It was no cave or mountaintop lair, but it was hers.
And yet, as she stared up at the ceiling, something about the silence felt heavier than usual.
Now that Caldreya was gone, Velessa found herself... bored.
For the first time in a year, there was no lesson to rush to, no lecture to brace for, no surprise fireball to dodge mid-sentence. Just silence. Stillness. A luxury she'd dreamed of once or twice when Caldreya's training was especially ruthless-but now that it was here, it felt less like freedom and more like standing on the edge of a vast, empty plain.
She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
"What now?"
She murmured to no one.
There were books to read. Spells to revise. A storage spell to refine. But none of it carried the same urgency without Caldreya's gaze judging her from across the room.
She sighed, pressing her hand to her chest. The familiar warmth of magic pulsed softly beneath her skin.
She rose from the bed with a quiet groan, stretched her limbs, and made her way out of the room. The manor was oddly quiet without Caldreya's constant presence.
She entered Peter's office, the heavy oak door creaking as it swung open. The room smelled faintly of ink, parchment, and old books-scents she had grown oddly fond of.
Since Peter's departure, it had fallen to her to respond to certain letters-mostly from some random nobles (which she often referred to as monkeys) or inquiries from Peter's acquaintances. She wasn't officially in charge, but… she was the only one left with enough authority to keep things from falling apart.
She sliced the letter open with her nail and took out the message.
[To Peter Asharic,
Archmage of the Frozen Crown,
Trusted Friend and Shield of the Crown,
It has been too long since we last shared words in person. I hope this letter finds you in good health.
I write to you now with news both joyous and heavy. My son, Caelmir, is to be crowned within a fortnight. The ceremony will be held in Dawnspire with dignitaries from across the world in attendance. It is my hope you will join us for this moment of renewal. Your presence would not only honor the occasion but also reassure our allies that old bonds remain unbroken.
If you are able, I would also ask that you bring your daughter with you. It would do the court well to meet her at last. I've heard whispers of her potential-and of the guidance she's received under your roof. She need not play a part in politics, of course, but such introductions carry meaning.
The world turns, Peter. Slowly, but it does turn. And I would rather face its next season with familiar faces at my side.
With respect and the warmth of old friendship,
Albrecht IV
King of the Human Dominion ]
Velessa facepalmed.
'I don't have any choice in this matter. I might as well go.'