The Bird and the Wyrm

"Do you know how Coils are classified?" asked Bran.

Misha stared at him. He couldn’t speak while he was a dragon.

"Just nod or shake your head."

Misha shook his head.

"That’s alright. I just couldn’t remember if I mentioned them in the notebooks you’ve read or not." Bran raised the bow and strung it. "To make it simple, Coils are organised according to how obvious it is that you’re in one - its ’opacity’. Both of the two you’ve been in were relatively opaque which means it was obvious from the weird things going on that, well, you’re not somewhere normal."

He pulled back the string, testing its tension.

"Not all Coils are like that though; some are more transparent - you can walk straight into one and have no idea. The reason for this is that there is an intentional hand behind them - they’re Coils that were purposefully made by someone who wants them to look natural for whatever reason. Now, while some unintentional or naturally occurring Coils have guardians, intentionally created ones all do. These are magical beings created for the express purpose of protecting the Coil and helping it to continue existing."

Bran raised the bow and pulled back the string as if he were drawing an invisible arrow.

"Draw."

Misha felt power suddenly ignite in the air and a flame flared to life right where an arrow should have sat on Bran’s bow.

"The Walled City no longer exists," announced Bran in a strong voice. "It was demolished in nineteen ninety-three. I deny its existence!"