Ningyan returned to the sparring ground and found it empty. The silence that lingered was quite unusual.
He lifted his gaze toward the sky. It had begun to darken, the last traces of daylight fading beneath the rising glow of lanterns across the Azure Dragon Palace. His flute rested loosely in his grasp, his eyes faintly glowing beneath lowered lashes.
The entire clan was in motion for the banquet.
Ningyan exhaled softly. He had no intention of attending.
With a quiet surge of energy, his vast, brilliant wings burst from his back.
He rose into the air, landing lightly along the upper edge of the open sparring ground. His wings folded behind him as his gaze drifted outward, taking in the sprawling clan below, lights flickering like stars, dragons cutting through the sky, distant voices blending with low growls and restless movement.
Everything felt… uneasy.
His grip on the flute tightened.
Then, boom. The doors below slammed shut.
