Starfania remained buried in the depths of the library long after the candles had been replaced and replaced again. Dust clung to her sleeves as she carefully turned page after page, her fingers tracing the inked remnants of a past most had chosen to forget. Each text spoke of Dragon Saviors in reverent fragments—protectors, mediators, bridges between flame and flesh—but one name appeared more than the rest. Cantina.
The words surrounding her were never kind. They spoke of sacrifice. Of loss. Of a war that reshaped the world. She finally found what she had been dreading. The chapter header was burned into the page, as if the parchment itself remembered the pain: Battle of Endore. Starfania read in silence as the account unfolded—how the skies had split with dragonfire, how the land screamed beneath collapsing magic. Cantina had stood at the center of it all, a lone figure between annihilation and survival. The texts were unclear on how she died—only that she did, and that the dragons vanished soon after, as if the world itself mourned her loss. Starfania closed the book slowly, her heart heavy. I am the past and the last, the woman had said. Her chest tightened.
The next two days passed in a blur. Between school, late afternoons with Aeron and Violet, and quiet evenings filled with laughter instead of conflict, time seemed to slip through her fingers. Without Becka's constant presence poisoning the halls, the air felt lighter—almost peaceful. Daniel especially changed. After the incident, he gravitated toward Starfania more often, lingering after class, opening up in ways he never had before. He talked about the pressure he felt; the expectations placed on him; the loneliness he rarely admitted out loud.
And Starfania listened—truly listened—offering understanding without judgment. But today was different. Today was the day. The last bell rang, sharp and liberating, and before she could second-guess herself, Starfania was already laughing as she raced Aeron down the hallway, their footsteps echoing wildly behind them. Freedom buzzed in her veins. They had plans—simple ones. Time at Aeron's house. Time away from expectations. To her surprise, her father hadn't objected. The afternoon was spent outdoors beneath the burning sky, Drogo basking lazily in the warmth as Aeron patiently showed Violet how to care for him properly. His tone was gentle, proud without meaning to be, and Starfania found herself smiling as she watched the siblings laugh together.
Drogo, thoroughly pleased with himself, eventually wandered over and rested a heavy, warm head on Starfania's lap. His presence radiated calm, steady and grounding. She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into that moment. As the sky shifted into molten hues, they set up camp in Aeron's backyard. Lava-lit clouds rolled slowly overhead, the only light beyond their fire coming from the glowing land itself. Starfania stirred the flames gently, embers dancing upward. The night was quiet—almost sacred.
" There's an old legend my mother used to tell me," she began softly. " Long before the VulcanFire Kingdom was forged, there was a warrior known as the Emberborn Knight."
Aeron leaned closer. Violet's eyes widened.
" What kind of warrior?" Aeron asked.
" They say he was a guardian of the flames," Starfania continued, her voice steady but alive. " He defended the innocent and fought the shadows that tried to smother the light. Every battle forged him stronger."
The fire crackled, responding as if it remembered.
" But one day," she said, her gaze drifting toward the horizon, " a great darkness rose—a creature born from despair. And the Emberborn Knight stood against it."
Violet swallowed. " Did he win?"
Starfania nodded slowly. " He did. But it cost him everything. His sacrifice lit the flames we still carry today."
The fire flared brighter. For a moment, none of them spoke. Above them, the moon climbed higher—full, watchful, waiting. And deep within Starfania's chest, something ancient stirred. Tonight, she would finally face the truth.