In Kyle's humble cottage, nestled deep within the forest, the aroma of fried vegetables, eggs, and a touch of fish filled the air. He was preparing breakfast for his daughter, Luna. The little five-year-old girl was energetic and sharp, constantly training and moving.
"Luna!" he called out gently.
No answer.
She was by the river, standing on one leg atop a narrow stone, balancing along the stream like a tightrope walker. Kyle called again, and even Belos, their loyal dog, barked in support, urging her to come back.
Luna leapt down with a smile, her little legs splashing through the grass as she ran toward the house.
"Papa, I wasn't done training! Why do you always call me too soon?"
"Because your favorite meal is ready," he replied with a warm grin.
She sniffed the air dramatically. "You're right! The smell speaks for itself!"
She sat at the table, eyes twinkling. Kyle sat across from her and said, "Eat well, Luna. You've been training day and night."
She glanced at her long hair, tugged at it, and muttered, "I need a haircut. And don't call me Luna anymore! Someone might hear us from the forest. My name is Leo. I'm a boy, not a girl!"
Kyle chuckled. "You're beautiful whether you have long or short hair—and I won't forget it, Sir Leo."
But Luna looked up at him, curiosity shining in her gaze.
"Papa, did my real mother have hair like mine? Or eyes like mine?"
Kyle's expression softened. "Helen looked like you in so many ways. Her hair wasn't white like yours, and her eyes weren't blue... but you both shared the same spirit, the same fire."
Luna fell quiet for a moment, then asked, "So... who do I look like?"
He smiled gently, brushing a hand across her forehead. "You look like me—kind and beautiful like your mother, and strong-willed like your father."
Kyle could sense her growing curiosity. She was still young, but so full of questions. Then she leaned closer and said:
"Papa, I can run so fast and never get tired! And yesterday, I had a deep cut on my hand... I wrapped it in a piece of cloth, and now it's almost gone!"
He looked at her hand. The wound had indeed vanished. He knew what that meant—dragon energy. Her powers were awakening. Stronger every day.
He had to find the mountain herbs. The rare ones. Ones that would help her control that growing energy... or else it would betray her in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
"That's because you eat well," he told her. "And because of the herbs I gave you when you were a baby. Those made your body strong. But Luna... you must never tell anyone about this. No one. It's our secret."
She nodded quickly. "I promise, Papa. I won't tell."
Then she tugged her long hair again. "Will you cut my hair? Or should I do it myself? It grows so fast! I trimmed it three days ago, and now it's long again!"
He laughed. "Once we get back from the mountains with the herbs, I'll cut them for you after you've had your bath. You're a beautiful daughter."
Luna stood, proud and excited. "I'll go back to training! I can climb trees now—and sometimes, I can even jump down without getting hurt!"
Kyle watched her with concern. These were no ordinary talents. They were signs. Signs that the dragon's energy within her was getting stronger... and more dangerous.
And when the time came—when she reached the right age—he would have to honor his promise. To send her to the royal palace as a knight... to serve King Harold.
It wasn't what he wanted. He wished he could take Luna far, far away from that world. But he knew the king would never allow it.
Suddenly, two tiny hands covered his eyes.
"Papa? Where did your mind wander to?"
He smiled, blinking. "Come on, help me pack our things. We're heading to the mountains."
Luna, thoughtful beyond her years, looked at his wounded leg and the walking stick he leaned on.
"Papa... why don't you describe the herb to me, and I'll go with Belos to find it?"
Kyle's tone grew stern. "Not. I won't let you go alone. The mountains are far... and dangerous."
She looked at his leg again, her expression falling.
"But your leg... it hurts, doesn't it? I don't want you to suffer."
He reached out, ruffled her hair with tenderness, and said, "It's alright. We'll go together. We won't stay long—we'll get what we need and come right back."
Luna held up the scarf in her hand and whispered, "Papa... I'll never take this scarf off again."
He looked puzzled. "But your wound's healed."
She gazed toward the trees. "It reminds me how much you've done for me. One day, I'll make all your dreams come true. When I become a royal knight, you'll never have to suffer again."
Kyle didn't want that life for her. He didn't want her tangled in politics and power. But in Luna, he saw strength. He saw someone brave, responsible, even at her age.
He had never once regretted raising her as his own.
She had become... everything to him.