The dragon’s presence surged. Kaelen didn't fight the heat; he welcomed it. He finished the final curve of the glyph—a jagged, soaring line that looked like a wing in flight.
The scroll didn't burn. Instead, the Script ignited with a soft, amber glow. The light spilled out of the window, cascading down the tower like a golden waterfall. Wherever the light touched the snow, it vanished. The frozen river groaned and cracked, turning back into rushing water. Dragon Soul Script
"Because the hearths are cold," Kaelen gasped, his sweat vaporizing into steam. "And a child’s breath should not come out as frost." The dragon’s presence surged
"The balance is tilting," Kaelen whispered. Below his tower, the kingdom of Oakhaven was freezing. A perpetual winter, conjured by a rogue sorcerer, had turned the soil to iron and the rivers to glass. The scroll didn't burn