The kingdom of Aerilon floated high above the clouds. Each piece of land drifted gently in the air, covered in green grass and bright flowers. Between the floating islands were glowing bridges made of light.
In the center stood a castle made of white stone and glass. Sunlight hit its towers and scattered rainbows across the halls. Pink rabbits wandered everywhere — under tables, around the throne, even beside the guards.
Princess Lyra sat on the stairs in front of her father's throne, trying to draw one of the rabbits. Her crown was crooked, her hands were smudged with paint, and her golden hair looked messy from the morning breeze.
Her father, King Ordran, watched her from his seat. He looked tired, his crown tilted slightly forward as if it had grown heavy.
"Lyra," he said, his voice deep and calm. "Don't you get tired of this castle? Of seeing the same things every day?"
She didn't look up from her drawing. "Do you?"
The King gave a short laugh. "Once, I didn't. But people grow old, even when the sky never changes."
They both turned to the window behind him. Beyond the glass, islands floated quietly in the sky. Some far away, others close enough that you could see houses built on them.
"I wish I could go there," Lyra said softly. "I want to see where the horizon ends."
Before her father could reply, the sound of hooves echoed through the castle gates. The doors opened, and three travelers walked in.
At the front was Varn Bjorson, a large man with messy hair and armor full of dents. He smiled even before he spoke. Behind him was Kael, tall and quiet, his cloak fluttering behind him. The youngest, Rowen, carried a small map and looked around with wide, curious eyes.
"Your Majesty," said Varn, bowing. "We've returned from the Southern Isles. The skies are rough there — the winds burn like fire."
King Ordran nodded. "And the creature?"
Kael stepped forward. "Still out there. Hidden, but close."
"The creature?" Lyra asked.
Rowen glanced at her. "The Bone Dragon. The one that breathes fire so hot it turns stone into glass."
The King's expression hardened. "Old tales," he said. "No one has seen that beast for years."
Kael's voice dropped. "Maybe so. But we found fire that doesn't go out — and the ground was cracked, as if something massive had landed."
For a moment, no one spoke. Even the rabbits stopped moving.
Lyra looked at her father. "Then you'll go again?"
He sighed. "They will. You'll stay here."
"But I can help!"
"This is not a game, Lyra."
She lowered her head. The King stood up and said, "You'll rest tonight and leave at dawn," turning to the three warriors.
Varn smiled and bowed again. Kael only nodded. Rowen gave a quiet look of excitement that Lyra didn't miss.
When they left, the hall felt too quiet. The sunset painted the marble floor orange and gold. Lyra stared out the window at the drifting lands.
"I'll see the horizon myself," she whispered.
Outside, thunder rumbled far away, as if answering her.