Vileria, as always, brims with life. The capital moves at an accelerated pace; there is always something happening here, something to give kind-hearted ladies a reason to gossip over a cup of tea, something to keep the city guard busy and prevent them from dozing off on duty, day or night. The crisp autumn air carries the scent of fallen leaves and wood smoke from distant hearths, while the afternoon sun filters through amber-tinged branches overhead.

Lord Eraksion Darkling sat in his study at the manor on the lands of his duchy near the Imperial capital, reviewing reports: food supplies, budget calculations, preparations for winter that had been underway since summer. The smooth surface of the oak desk reflected the afternoon light streaming through leaded windows, casting diamond patterns across the parchment. The leather chair creaked faintly as he shifted, the only sound besides the scratch of his quill and the distant calls of forest birds.

Without knocking, his loyal aide, Knight of the Inquisition Ronan, burst into the room, breathless and troubled. Eraksion already knew what had happened, his keen draconic senses having detected the Rift's magical signature moments before. The dragon set the papers aside and straightened in his chair, fixing his gaze firmly on his right-hand man.

"Report."

The Lord Inquisitor's voice was calm and commanding as he waited for Ronan's details. Acting rashly was not an option, strategy had to be calculated, and the right squad assembled. The knight straightened, standing at attention, and began his report of the unusual Rift that had opened in the eastern forest, its magic unlike anything they had encountered before.

Ten minutes later, twelve knights under the Lord Inquisitor's command were assembled at the ready, waiting by their horses. The squad departed at once for the eastern forest. At the head, riding a black stallion with silver trappings, was Lord Eraksion Darkling. The cool afternoon air whipped at his dark cloak as they rode, the scent of pine and damp earth filling his nostrils.

As they approached the Rift location, Eraksion felt it — the crackling magical energy of the unstable portal. Something was emerging. Someone. Alive and breathing. The magic of the Rift itself obscured his readings, but he could sense a heartbeat, shallow breaths, and an energy signature that made his dragon stir in ways it never had before. One gloved hand tightened on the reins while the other rested on the hilt of his sword, ready to strike down the otherworldly intruder as protocol demanded.

The squad spread out in four directions, surrounding the Rift from all sides. Through the trees, Eraksion glimpsed the swirling blue-white portal and the figure stumbling through it — a human female, disoriented and dazed, wearing strange clothing unlike anything in the Empire. As her eyes met his across the distance, his dragon roared to life inside him with a single, overwhelming thought: MINE. TRUE MATE. The revelation hit him like a physical blow, his grip on his sword hilt faltering for just a moment before his Inquisitor discipline reasserted control.

This was impossible. Otherworldly creatures were dangerous, corrupted, to be eliminated on sight. Yet his draconic senses screamed that this being was different — his Destined, the other half of his soul he never knew he was missing.