Later that evening, Lance sat in his room, the silence broken only by the faint hum of magical wards pulsing outside his window. His hand hovered over the comm crystal, jaw tight. He hadn’t stopped replaying it—the wings, the roar, the raw authority in her presence. Whatever Renee had done, it wasn’t just magic.

He tapped the crystal.

Shadow bled into the space, and Samira’s image formed—cold, elegant, and motionless.

“Report.”

Lance looked down, then up. “I lost control in class. The Dragon Force... overwhelmed me.”

“Expected,” she replied flatly. “And?”

“She stopped me.”

Samira’s eyes narrowed slightly. “With what?”

“I don’t know. She said a name. Her whole presence changed. Wings of magic formed behind her. She roared, but it wasn’t a spell. It wasn’t human.”

Her eyes flicked with interest. “Show me.”

A thin thread of magic reached from her hand through the crystal and touched his forehead. Lance gasped, shivering, as the memory poured out of him.

She watched Renee step forward, eyes glowing with ancient power, her voice summoning something massive and primal. The roar shattered the tension in the room. The Dragon Force within Lance had buckled instantly, vanishing like smoke.

When the memory ended, Samira remained silent.

Then, she whispered, “Dragon Possession.”

Lance frowned. “What is that?”

“A spell that shouldn’t exist anymore,” she murmured. “Only usable by someone bonded to a sovereign. Pure dragons—extinct, according to the world. But not to me.”

She turned slightly, voice tighter. “She’s close to one. Close enough to be given power.”

The demon lingering near her emerged from the shadows. “She’s regaining them?”

“She has at least one,” Samira replied. “And she’s no longer hiding it.”

She paced now, slow and calculated. “Let the girl think she’s safe. Let her believe she has control.”

To Lance, she said, “Get close to her. Earn her trust. I want to know where they are. Who survived? I want confirmation. Do not act. Do not speak of this again until you know.”

Lance nodded once, uncertain. “Understood.”

The crystal dimmed.

Far across the kingdoms, Samira stood alone in her sanctum. Her fingers brushed the center of her chest—just over the bone. No wound remained, but memory didn’t need scars to ache.

Flashback – The Fall of Salem

Fire licked the towers of Salem. The sky was dark with smoke and winged shadows. Screams of witches and soldiers blended with the clash of metal and the tear of spells.

Samira raced up the crumbling spire, each step echoing with dread.

She burst onto the upper balcony—and froze.

Below, in the cracked courtyard, Renee stood before an enormous cage split open by raw force. Inside, the last imprisoned dragon of Salem rose, slow and shaking, finally unshackled.

“No,” Samira gasped.

Below, chaos had begun. Renee’s squad surrounded her—bloodied, holding the line. Damien and Christofer warded off the Salem guard. Xavier hovered above with a field of protective magic.

But the dragons were weak. They couldn’t fight. Couldn’t escape.

Samira screamed for the coven. “Stop her!”

Renee stood perfectly still, arms at her sides, eyes fixed ahead. The wind churned around her.

Then she moved.

She lifted her right arm and bit into her palm, drawing blood. She placed it on the scorched ground. Ancient sigils erupted in red light.

She began to chant.

It wasn’t a spell. It was a ritual.

The sky split open.

From the chasm, demons poured—massive, terrible. Eleven sigils burned into the stone as they emerged, answering a call not made with permission but with command.

Each one knelt before Renee. Then turned.

Salem stood no chance.

The buildings crumbled. The witches burned. Demonic legions swarmed, and Renee stood in the eye of the devastation, unmoving.

Samira fought her way down, flames and debris crashing around her.

She caught up with Renee as the last of Salem fell.

Their magic clashed—Samira’s radiant arcs against Renee’s violent dark flares. But the outcome was never in doubt.

Renee’s blow landed clean.

A force of searing energy cut through Samira’s chest.

She collapsed, choking, bleeding, the world fading fast. Her eyes locked onto Renee’s.

Renee walked forward, gaze unreadable. She stood over Samira as the light in her eyes dulled.

Then—without a word—she turned away.

She didn’t finish her.

She thought Samira was already gone.

And Samira let her believe it.

Unmoving. Waiting. Until Renee vanished with her dragons and her squad into the smoke.

Only then did a loyal demon crawl from the rubble, cradle her broken body, and disappear into the night.

Back in the present, Samira opened her eyes slowly.

“She left me there,” she whispered, not with sorrow—but with fury.

She rose, composed once more, and stepped into the chamber beyond.

Royals and dignitaries looked up as she entered.

Samira’s voice was smooth as silk, cold as stone.

“Let’s discuss an alliance."

The room quieted.

Dozens of eyes turned to her—some wary, others calculating, a few curious. Representatives from the outland kingdoms sat in rigid lines, silver crests on their robes glittering beneath the glow of the chandeliers. There was tension in the air—not because of Samira’s arrival, but because of the quiet power she carried like a shadow.

She strode to the head of the table without breaking eye contact with a single delegate.

“Your kingdoms fear what’s coming,” she said smoothly, “and with good reason. The world is shifting again. Something ancient is stirring. You’ve seen the signs. Disappearances. Rogue magic. The collapse of old defenses.”

The diplomat from Caletheris shifted uncomfortably. “You speak as if you know the source.”

“I do,” Samira said. “Renee Arcadia Nosfera.”

Gasps echoed.

“Impossible,” someone muttered.

Samira raised a hand, and shadows curled around her fingers. A projection formed—distorted, unclear, but powerful. A young woman cloaked in magical force, wings of energy at her back, roaring with a voice that cracked the air.

“She’s dangerous not just because she survived,” Samira said, eyes scanning the room. “But because she is the one responsible for the fall of Salem.”

The entire chamber went still.

“That’s not possible,” a Velandrian noble blurted. “The official reports said Salem fell to a demonic uprising.”

Samira nodded. “A convenient lie. But I was there. I saw it. The uprising wasn’t a random attack—it was summoned. Renee Arcadia Nosfera tore open the sky herself. She bound eleven demons by force in a single night. I watched it happen. I fought her myself.”

She paused, then added, “I died that night. Or so she thought.”

There was a ripple of disbelief—mixed with unease.

“She summoned them to destroy a city?” someone asked.

“She did it to claim the last of the sovereign dragons imprisoned there,” Samira said. “Dragons, my people, have been kept hidden for generations. She stole them. She used them. And then she razed Salem to the ground and vanished.”

The Myrrador representative leaned forward, eyes sharp. “You say she’s hiding? That she’s rebuilding?”

“She’s hiding in plain sight,” Samira replied. “She’s back at Arcadia Academy. She walks among the nobles and the gifted, pretending to be a student and pretending to be a leader. But she’s no mere commander—she’s a weapon wrapped in royal silk. She is the greatest threat the world will soon face.” Renee, as seen through Lance’s eyes, summoning the Dragon Possession.

A shudder moved through the room.

“She’s bonded with dragons. At least one. Sovereigns, not shifters. And she’s not stopping there. The same woman who destroyed Salem is rebuilding her dominion. You may not believe me—but soon, you won’t have the luxury of disbelief.”

The delegate from Myrrador leaned forward. “What do you propose?”

“An alliance,” Samira said. “You join me. You prepare. Together, we counter her before her roots dig too deep. Before she calls on demons again. Because if she binds more of them... nothing will stop her next time.”

A ripple of murmurs followed.

“She has royal backing,” someone said.

Samira’s voice turned icy. “And I have your survival. Choose.”

Silence.

Then, one of Caletheris’s envoys, a woman in sea-green robes and a crown of braided silver, cleared her throat.

"You’ve given us much to consider," she said coolly. "If what you say is true, then this Renee Nosfera poses a threat beyond personal vendettas. But understand—we do not move on rumor. We will verify everything."

Samira inclined her head. “Do so. But don’t take too long. She won’t wait. And by the time you see the fire, it will already be at your door.”

Samira smiled slowly. “That’s all I need.”