The sky above Iron Hearth was usually adorned only by the faint, shimmering glow of stars or the thin, constant plumes of smoke from factory chimneys that labored twenty-four hours a day. But tonight, as the newly installed Mana-Electric streetlights flickered to life, bathing the asphalt in a clinical, bluish-white radiance, a massive shadow sliced through the horizon.
A sharp, whistling hiss of wind preceded the creature's arrival. Citizens walking through the city square or sitting in local coffee houses looked up in unison. Their first reflex was fear—the haunting memory of Northveil's fall to the Iron Empire's steam technology still fresh in their minds. However, that terror was swiftly replaced by a collective, bated breath of relief when they saw the familiar silhouette atop the back of a white dragon that glowed like molten silver beneath the city lights.
"Look! It's Master Roland and Lady Rumina!" shouted a factory worker returning from a late shift.
