The rocking of the carriage made the leather of the reins creak and the iron of the wheels squeak against the beaten stone road. The rhythmic sound of hooves echoed under the cloudy sky, while fine dust rose and mixed with the cold wind coming from the north. Inside, the space was cramped, illuminated only by a lamp attached to the side. Samira was leaning back on one of the benches, her dirty boots resting on the opposite seat, her gaze bored and her fingers drumming on the hilt of her sword.

"This is ridiculous," she grumbled, looking out the small window. "We could get to Thirval in less than an hour if we flew."

Bellatrix, sitting in front, didn't take her eyes off the road. Her face was partially covered by the black hood, and her expression remained serene, as always.

"We could," she replied calmly. "But a pair of dragons flying over the coast would attract a little more attention than a merchant's carriage, don't you think?"

Samira snorted loudly. "Oh, please. What difference does it make? These people wouldn't even know what they saw. At most, they would tell stories of monsters in the skies."

"And that's precisely what we want to avoid." Bellatrix elegantly crossed her legs. "We are here to observe, not to inspire legends."

Samira turned her face to the side, observing the open field that stretched beyond the road. The wind whipped against the canvas, and she could feel the restlessness coursing through her skin. "I hate pretending to be weak," she murmured. "Pretending that I'm just another poorly paid mercenary."

"It's not pretending," Bellatrix replied, her tone still serene. "It's strategy."

Samira gave her a sideways glance. "Strategy is when you're trying to deceive the enemy. Here it seems more like... theater."

"It's the same principle." Bellatrix adjusted the holster on her shoulder, her voice cold as steel. "The greatest enemy of power isn't fear, Samira. It's the unknown."

The other woman raised an eyebrow. "Philosophy now?"

"Fact." Bellatrix tilted her head slightly. "The less they know about us, the more control we have. Fear dissipates with time, but uncertainty... that keeps everyone on edge."

Samira was silent for a moment, reflecting. The sound of the wheels seemed to fill the space between them. "You sound like Strax sometimes," she said, finally, in a somewhat mocking tone.

"That's because I learned by listening," Bellatrix replied, without changing her expression. "He understands that power without subtlety is just brute force. And brute force doesn't build empires."

Samira grimaced, snapping her fingers. "I hate it when you're right."

"Then get used to it," Bellatrix replied dryly.

Silence reigned again, interrupted only by the creaking of the wood and the distant cry of a crow flying over the road. Outside, the guards driving the carriage exchanged short words, unaware of who was really accompanying the convoy.

Samira pulled her hood up to cover her face and sighed. "You know what's worse?" she asked, looking at the ceiling. "Pretending I can't fly hurts more than pretending I'm human."

"Then think of it as just hunting." Bellatrix looked back at her, her eyes cold and calculating. "A dragon doesn't show its wings before it attacks."

Samira gave a short laugh. "And when we attack, what do we do?"

Bellatrix answered without hesitation:

"We finish what we started."

The carriage swayed as it rounded a bend, and the two women exchanged glances. Outside, on the misty horizon, the first towers of Thirval appeared—golden in the distant reflection of the sea. Samira adjusted her sword and muttered, almost to herself:

"I hope this is worth it, because if this 'Veil Trade' is just another group of greedy humans... I swear I'll burn the whole place down."

Bellatrix simply responded with a neutral look and a short sentence:

"Then pray that they are worthy of surviving us."

...

The courtyard of Strax's mansion vibrated with the metallic sound of impacts, heavy breathing, and the tearing of the air. The smooth, light-colored stones of the ground were scarred with cracks and burn marks; the surrounding garden, once meticulously cared for, now displayed broken branches and scattered pieces of wall. In the center, Strax and Scarlet faced each other—and there was nothing friendly about that fight.

Scarlet was a crimson blur. Her body was partially covered in scales that shimmered in the morning sun, and with each movement they expanded, as if the flesh were fighting against itself. Her fingernails had become sharp claws, and a hot breath escaped from her mouth, with small sparks that betrayed the contained fire.

"Come on, Scarlet!"—Strax's voice echoed firmly through the courtyard, accompanied by a dry crack as he dodged a claw strike that cracked the ground. "Control, not force!"

Scarlet spun her body, her amber eyes gleaming amidst the fury. "Easy for you to say!" she roared, her voice mixed with a guttural timbre that wasn't entirely human. "This burns! It's like holding a volcano in my hands!"

Strax only smiled, breathless, stepping back a few paces as he raised his forearm to block another attack. The impact pushed him back, and the stone beneath his feet shattered into pieces. He spun his body, dodging a scaled tail that whipped through the air like a whip.

"Then stop fighting against it," he replied, his voice calm, but his gaze shining with defiance. "Direct it."

Scarlet snorted, the heat emanating from her skin making the air vibrate around her. "If I direct it, you'll get burned."

"I've been burned by worse." Strax gave a half-smile. "Show me what you're capable of."

A roar cut through the air. Scarlet lunged forward, too fast for the human eye. Strax raised his arm at the last instant and deflected the blow, her fist passing centimeters from his face—the strike hit the air, creating a shockwave that swept leaves and dust in all directions. Strax ducked and countered with a punch to her stomach. The impact made her scales clatter, but she barely moved.

His golden eyes narrowed. "Hm. Resistance improving."

Scarlet smiled, showing sharp teeth. "And the strength too."

She grabbed his fist and threw him over her shoulder. Strax spun in the air and landed on his feet, the ground trembling under the impact. His smile was now wider—the kind of smile that only appeared when he was truly enjoying himself.

"That's it, girl. Now you're fighting like you should."

Scarlet roared again and shot forward, her feet leaving scorched trails on the stones. Strax dodged, blocked, counter-attacked—a dance of strength and precision. With each second, the courtyard transformed more into a battlefield. The sound of the blows echoed through the walls, and some more curious guards watched from afar, fascinated and terrified.

Strax dodged a lunge and grabbed her arm, spinning his body and throwing her to the ground. She hit hard, cracking the stones, but immediately got up, spitting a short burst of flame that forced him to jump back.

"You're losing control, Scarlet!" he shouted, as the fire licked the air.

"I'm trying!" she roared, and part of her face transformed—her left eye became a reptilian slit, and small, irregular horns began to form.

Strax advanced. One step. Two. Then he disappeared.

Scarlet blinked, surprised. "What...?!"

An instant later, he was behind her. The sound of the air being cut preceded the impact: a precise kick to the back, which sent her crashing against the wall. The stones shattered, dust rose, and a muffled groan escaped her before he spoke:

"Concentrate, Scarlet! If you let instinct take over, you'll lose!"

From the midst of the dust, two incandescent eyes opened. A guttural laugh resounded.

"Perhaps I should lose then."

Strax raised an eyebrow, curious, as she emerged from the cloud of debris. Now, scales covered almost half of her body. Human skin mingled with the dark metallic red of the dragon, and the heat around her made the air vibrate. Each step left burning marks on the stones.

He positioned himself. "Then come."

The next impact was brutal. Scarlet advanced with almost invisible speed and struck Strax in the abdomen. The blow sent him sliding meters across the ground, but he maintained his balance, rotating his body to absorb the impact.

"Better," he murmured, with a smile.

Scarlet didn't wait. She attacked again—claws, kicks, fire. Strax dodged with precise movements, taking advantage of every opening to retaliate. The sound of the blows echoed like thunder.

When she tried to strike him with her tail, he ducked and grabbed the appendage, using her own momentum to throw her to the side. Scarlet spun in the air, dug her claws into the ground, and stopped sliding, sparks flying from her scales.

"Damn... you're having too much fun with this!" she snarled.

"Maybe a little." Strax rotated his shoulder, cracking his joints. "But that's the point. Control comes when you start to enjoy it, not when you fear what it is."

She clenched her fists. "Enjoy? Feeling this burning inside me?"

"Using the fire without letting yourself be consumed." he replied, taking a step forward. "That's what differentiates a monster from a warrior."

Her eyes gleamed. For an instant, the fire within Scarlet seemed to calm down—not extinguish, but change form. The heat that had previously burned the air now seemed to pulse steadily.

Strax noticed and gave a small smile. "That's it. Now show me."

Scarlet took a deep breath. The aura around her condensed, the heat transforming into energy. When she moved her arm, the air crackled like thunder.

She attacked, but this time the blow wasn't blind. It was precise, clean, controlled. Strax blocked—the impact was still strong, but without the previous chaos.

She spun, the movement fluid like a dance, and Strax recoiled, dodging a kick by centimeters. The fire escaping from her hands now formed trails in the air—controlled, beautiful.

"Better," he murmured. "Now it looks like you, not instinct."

Scarlet smiled. "I think I finally understand."

Strax advanced, and the two resumed exchanging blows, but now the rhythm was different—synchronized, almost choreographed. With each impact, sparks danced, reflecting the gold of Strax's eyes and the crimson of her scales.

Finally, he blocked one last punch and held her fist firmly. Both were breathless. Silence fell over the courtyard.

Scarlet lowered her gaze to her own hands—the scales were beginning to recede slowly, melting back into human skin. The steam rising from her skin drifted lazily into the cold air.

Strax released her fist and crossed his arms. "Better. Much better."

She took a deep breath, still panting, and glanced at him. "It still seems... dangerous."

He gave a slight smile. "Everything worthwhile is."

Scarlet laughed, tired, and sank to the ground, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "You're impossible."

"And you've finally learned to burn without losing control," Strax replied, turning and walking towards the mansion. "Tomorrow, we start again."

"Tomorrow?!" she exclaimed, exasperated.

Strax looked over his shoulder, a mischievous smile appearing. "Of course. Fire doesn't rest."

Scarlet sighed, looking at the blue sky above, and murmured to herself:

"Neither do I, apparently."

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