The portable dimension was quiet.
Not silent—never silent—but still, as if the world itself understood that something old was about to be spoken aloud.
The dragon woman stood near the river of glowing mana, crimson hair drifting softly despite the absence of wind. Giratina had withdrawn a respectful distance away. Latias hovered above, watchful. Rowena Ravenclaw remained to the side, hands folded, eyes sharp with the patience of a founder.
Keith faced the woman squarely.
"…You said my ancestor sealed you," he said calmly.
"Tell me what happened."
The dragon woman exhaled slowly.
Her voice, when it came, carried centuries of memory.
Velgrynd's Past
"I was born long before Hogwarts," she began.
"Before the Statute. Before wizarding nations."
Rowena's eyes widened slightly.
"I was a Crimson Sky Dragon, born of war and movement. My kind did not hoard—we protected. I watched continents rise and fall."
She clenched her hand.
"And then… humans learned ambition."
Keith listened without interruption.
"There was a war," Velgrynd continued.
"Not light versus dark—but survival versus dominion. Dragons were hunted for hearts, scales, blood. I fought back."
Her gaze darkened.
"I burned armies. Melted towers. I did not distinguish innocent from guilty anymore."
Rowena closed her eyes.
"So you became what they feared," she murmured.
Velgrynd nodded.
"That is when Temar Runcandel came."
Keith stiffened.
Velgrynd looked at him.
"He did not come to kill me. He came alone. Sword lowered."
Her lips curved faintly.
"He spoke to me as an equal. Told me humans were not united in this crime. That the world was changing—and if I continued, I would become a calamity that even dragons would not forgive."
Keith could imagine it. Too clearly.
"He fought me only after I refused," Velgrynd said quietly.
"And when he won—barely—he did not slay me."
Her voice softened.
"He sealed me. Bound my heart. Put me into sleep so long that my rage would cool… and the world would forget hunting dragons."
She looked down.
"I hated him for it. For centuries."
Silence followed.
Then—
Keith stepped forward.
A Bow That Shook History
Keith Argus Runcandel—
Lord of his House.
Primordial Dragon Prince.
He placed his fist over his chest.
And bowed.
Deeply.
"On behalf of my ancestor," he said clearly,
"and on behalf of House Runcandel—"
"I am sorry."
The world paused.
Rowena's breath caught.
Latias froze mid-air.
Even Giratina's eyes narrowed in interest.
Velgrynd stared at him.
"…A Runcandel," she whispered,
"does not bow."
Her fists trembled.
"That is what my brother told me," she said hoarsely.
"Temar Runcandel said your bloodline would never kneel."
Keith straightened, meeting her gaze evenly.
"Then let me be the first," he replied.
"Because power without responsibility is arrogance."
For a long moment—
Velgrynd said nothing.
Then she laughed. Soft. Unburdened.
"…How cruel," she murmured.
"To seal me… yet leave behind someone like you."
She stepped forward.
"I forgive House Runcandel."
The words echoed like a contract being fulfilled.
Something unlocked.
Keith felt it—a subtle loosening in the air, as if a centuries-old grudge had finally exhaled.
A Name Given Freely
Velgrynd studied Keith again.
"…I no longer wish to carry my old name," she said slowly.
"It belongs to war."
She met his eyes.
"Give me a new one."
Keith blinked, surprised.
"Me?"
She nodded.
"Yes. You freed me—without a blade."
Keith thought for a moment.
Then smiled.
"How about…"
"Velgrynd."
The name hung between them.
Crimson. Wind. Fire. Renewal.
Her eyes widened.
"…It suits me," she said softly.
She inclined her head.
"Then from this moment—
I am Velgrynd."
A faint draconic sigil glowed over her heart, accepting the name as truth.
Rowena smiled knowingly.
"Names have power," she said.
"You chose well, Keith."
Velgrynd looked at Keith one last time—this time not with anger, but with curiosity.
"…It seems," she said,
"I woke up not to seek vengeance… but to witness the future."
Keith rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well," he replied lightly,
"welcome to it."