SHORTS

Summoning Ice Dragons
Princess Aureilia, The Dark Angel

At polar dawn, Aureilia steps onto a circle of living sigils and turns the frozen horizon into a stage. Obsidian wings rake the sky, twin moons fade in the cold light, and the air crackles with rune-fire as she calls ancient power from the deep ice. This is not a plea—it’s a command. Steel at her hips, frost on her breath, she summons the oldest forces of the North to answer her banner.

The Arrival
Princess Aureilia, The Dark Angel

She breaks the night like a whisper of steel. A black-winged silhouette drops through polar air, rune-light blooming beneath her as boots touch the ice. Twin moons hang over a horizon of frost and jagged spires; the circle answers with a low hum, throwing embers across feathers and snow. This is not a visit—it’s a claiming. Aureilia has arrived.

Contemplating Ice Dragons
Princess Aureilia, The Dark Angel

Before the sun fully breaks the horizon, Aureilia kneels in a ring of humming sigils, her black wings mantling against the polar wind. Frost smokes across the ice plain, auroras ghost the sky, and twin moons fade as dawn arrives. She has kept the night at bay with quiet sorcery; now she studies the far ridgelines where the ice dragons stir—calculating risks, mapping routes, and deciding what must be done to keep her people safe.

Desolation
Princess Aureilia, The Dark Angel

The world is broken—Aureilia is not. Cutting across ruin-swept horizons, she moves with cold, surgical intent: a lone guardian reading the wind, striking from the sun, and leaving only silence behind. Desolation is a cinematic portrait of resolve—obsidian wings against a burnt sky, steel and shadow in perfect control, a promise that even in the emptiest places, duty still has a heartbeat.