Kaelen, a disgraced Flame-Keeper, stumbled upon the first verse carved into a obsidian ribcage. The letters bled when touched. Against every warning, he hummed it.
The sky didn't darken. Instead, the volcanoes stopped breathing. The great wyrm Vorthax, mid-roar, froze — its molten eyes cooling into black glass. Not dead. Listening.
"Drakirkita," whispered a voice behind Kaelen. A child with ash-grey hair and no shadow. "You sang my true name. Now you must carry my silence until the world forgets to burn."