The Tower of Royals had been active for seven years.
Juvenile dragons entered its trials regularly, cycling through the floors, emerging stronger. The new generation of hatchlings had begun their own climbs, guided by the first generation. The Tower hummed with constant use, its systems calibrated for dozens of beings training simultaneously.
But one presence had been there the entire time.
Not cycling through. Not emerging. Just... within.
Owen felt it first—a tremor in the cosmic substrate, a shift in Drak'thar's ambient energy that wasn't from the usual traffic. He was in the war room, reviewing patrol routes with Yalira, when his CE core pulsed unexpectedly.
"She's coming out," he said.
Yalira looked up. "Who?"
"Uru."
---
Owen reached the courtyard just as the Tower's side entrance began to glow. Not the main doors—those were for standard trials. A smaller archway, rarely used, reserved for beings who required specialized environments.
