The clouds parted like veils around the colossal form crossing the skies. Strax, in his serpentine draconic form, tore through the firmament with fluid, elegant movements, like a god slithering through the wind. His scaled body shimmered in shades of black, silver, and ruby under the pale afternoon light, reflecting the icy glow of the sun over Vorah.
On his back, in a leather saddle encrusted with runes, were Cristine and Yennifer. The former stood firm, even with the wind whipping her cloak, her golden eyes fixed on the approaching city. Vorah seemed darker than she remembered. The streets below were rivers of fog and smoke. Restlessness hung in the air like an unbroken spell.
Yennifer, sitting with one leg bent and the other stretched out, rested her chin on her palm, her lazy gaze watching the horizon.
"Of all forms of transportation, this is definitely the most dramatic," she said, in an almost provocative tone of boredom.
