Sure! Here's the English version of your text:
The mist clung to the trees like a funeral shroud, wrapping the forest in a ghostly pallor. Lyra Valden moved silently, her boots pressing into the dead leaves without a sound. She had learned to blend into the shadows, to become an elusive silhouette. It was a necessity in her line of work. A mercenary didn't survive long if she let herself be caught.
She stopped abruptly, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. A shiver ran down her spine—an instinct, primal and urgent, screamed at her to flee. But Lyra had never been the kind to back down. She took a deep breath, inhaling the acrid scent of damp earth and decay. Something was wrong. Something big, powerful, and terribly dangerous.
— You feel it too, don't you? she murmured to her weapon, as if it could answer.
She didn't need a reply. The air itself felt charged with electricity, as if the forest were holding its breath. Lyra knew she was getting close to her target. The mission was simple—at least on paper: find a legendary creature, a dragon, and bring back proof of its existence. A foolish task, she thought, but one that paid well. And Lyra needed the money.
She moved forward, senses sharp. The forest grew denser, the trees darker, their twisted branches like claws ready to snatch her. Then she saw it.
In the heart of a clearing, surrounded by a circle of scorched trees, stood Vaelrath. The last dragon. Lyra held her breath. He was immense, his obsidian-black scales reflecting the dying sunlight. His wings, folded against his body, looked large enough to cover the sky. His eyes, burning gold, locked onto Lyra with terrifying intelligence.
— You dare come here, human? His voice echoed in her mind, deep and thunderous.
Lyra clenched her jaw, refusing to show fear. She had faced monsters, bandits, demons. But a dragon… that was another story.
— I don't have a choice, she answered, her voice steady despite the tremor rising within her. I was paid to find you.
Vaelrath tilted his head, a slow, deliberate movement. — And now that you've found me, what do you intend to do? Kill me? Capture me?
Lyra hesitated. She hadn't really thought that far ahead. Dragons were supposed to be extinct, mere legends. No one had told her how to deal with a real one.
— I… I don't know, she admitted finally.
The dragon made a sound that resembled laughter—a low rumble that vibrated the air around them. — You are brave, I'll give you that. But you are also a fool. You don't understand what you've set in motion by coming here.
Before Lyra could respond, the ground trembled beneath her feet. She stumbled, trying to keep her balance, as lightning streaked across the sky. Vaelrath lifted his head, his eyes glowing with a dangerous light.
— They are coming, he said simply.
— Who? Lyra asked, but she didn't need an answer.
Shadows emerged from the trees—figures clad in black cloaks, their faces hidden behind masks. They moved with eerie grace, their weapons gleaming with an unnatural light. Lyra immediately recognized their emblem: a black spiral surrounded by flames. The Shadows.
— You have drawn their attention, human, Vaelrath said. And now, we are both in danger.
Lyra drew her sword, her heart pounding. There was no time to understand what was happening. The Shadows advanced, their intent clear. They wanted the dragon. And they would let nothing stand in their way.
— Team up? she asked Vaelrath, forcing a smirk.
The dragon studied her for a moment, then nodded. — For now.
The battle erupted in a storm of chaos. Lyra threw herself into the fight, her sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. The Shadows were fast, but she was faster. She danced between their blades, each move calculated, each strike ruthless.
Vaelrath, meanwhile, was a force of nature. His wings unfurled, sending gales of wind that tossed the Shadows like ragdolls. His claws tore through their armor, and his fiery breath reduced everything in his path to ashes.
But there were too many. Lyra felt a blade graze her arm, sharp pain searing through her. She staggered, her sword slipping from her grasp. A Shadow loomed over her, weapon raised for the killing blow.
Then Vaelrath intervened. In a swift motion, he placed his massive body between Lyra and the attacker, taking the strike in her place. The dragon roared in pain, but his gaze remained fixed on her.
— You cannot win alone, he said. Accept my help.
Lyra hesitated for a split second, then nodded. — Do what you must.
Vaelrath closed his eyes, and a blinding light erupted from him, engulfing the clearing. Lyra felt searing heat rush through her veins, as if her blood were boiling. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. Then, everything went black.
When she opened her eyes, she was different. A new power coursed through her, raw and untamed. Her hands trembled, and she saw golden light pulsing beneath her skin. Vaelrath was there, but weaker, as if a part of him had passed into her.
— What have you done? she asked, her voice unsteady.
— We are bound now, Vaelrath replied. You have accepted my power. But it comes at a price.
A chill ran down Lyra's spine. She knew her life had just changed forever. She had made a pact with a dragon, and there was no turning back.
The Shadows, witnessing what had happened, began to retreat. They had gotten what they wanted—the fusion of Lyra and Vaelrath. But they wouldn't stay away for long. They vanished into the darkness, leaving Lyra alone with the dragon.
— What does this mean? she asked, staring at her trembling hands.
— It means you are now a part of me, Vaelrath answered. And our fates are entwined. Prepare yourself, Lyra Valden. War is coming. And we will be at its heart.
Lyra closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words. She had wanted a simple mission, money, a life free of complications. But now, she was caught in something far greater than she had ever imagined.
And she knew one thing: there was no going back.