The rest of the morning passed in a blur of quiet efficiency. They finished drying Atlas and Drogo, brushing out loose scales, checking wings, and making sure no hidden injuries lingered from the previous day's flight. By the time they returned inside, the sun had climbed higher, casting bright light through the tall windows. Aeron disappeared briefly into his room to change. Violet followed suit. Starfania lingered in the living space. She stood near the balcony doors, hands resting lightly on the railing. From the outside, she looked composed. Inside, something was unraveling.
Atlas settled a few feet behind her, curling his tail around himself but keeping one sapphire eye trained on her. He could feel it—the shift in her breathing, the weight settling deeper in her chest. She didn't let Aeron or Violet see it. Not yet. But the guard's words echoed. It's VulcanFire. What else do you think it is? And suddenly she wasn't standing in Primara anymore. She was home. There had been a time when VulcanFire wasn't defined by iron laws and tightened control. She remembered warmth.
She remembered laughter echoing through the palace courtyard. Music spilling into the streets during the Dragons Festivals—bright banners snapping in the wind, colors woven into every balcony and tower. The scent of roasted meat and sweet pastries drifts through the air. Dragons once soared freely above the city during celebrations. Not feared. Honored. She could still see it clearly. Her father—Cesar—lifted her effortlessly onto his shoulders so she could wave to the cheering crowds. His laughter had been deep and unguarded back then. His smile was genuine.
He used to greet citizens by name. Used to kneel beside children who wanted to touch a dragon's scales. Her mother, Queen Lyria, radiant in silver and crimson, walked beside them with quiet grace. And always near her was Virex Boneflare—her dragon. Bone had been immense, bone-white scales edged in ash-gray, eyes like molten amber. Fierce to enemies. Gentle to family. Protective. Starfania remembered how Bone would lower his massive head so she could press her forehead against his snout. How he would stand behind her mother like a living shield during festivals, scanning the crowds without ever threatening.
They had been a family. Not a kingdom. Then came the day everything fractured. She remembered running. The sound of wings overhead—not Virex's. Another dragon. Wild-eyed. Enraged. And there chaser. Her family, she had once seen smiling at the festival, now screaming, running, fear twisting their faces into something unrecognizable. They had hunted her family through the forest like wild dogs, and in the chaos—her mother had fallen. Starfania squeezed her eyes shut. She could still hear it. The heat of the flames that took her mother was something she could still remember. She could still hear it. The roar. The crack in the earth. Her father shouted her name.
And after that day…VulcanFire changed. Cesar changed. The warmth drained from him, replaced by iron resolve and colder judgment. Laws were rewritten. Restrictions tightened. Owning a dragon required permits, inspections, registrations—endless conditions designed to control what once had been free. Dragons that were captured were no longer celebrated. They were bound. Used. Fears. Some were made to serve the crown directly—stripped of partnership and reduced to weapons. She had witnessed VulcanFire at its brightest. And at its darkest. Atlas rose slowly and approached her, lowering his head beside her shoulders. She hadn't realized her hands were trembling until his warm breath steadied them.
" I saw both sides," she whispered under her breath.
The father who once carried her proudly through the festival streets. And the ruler who now commanded with hardened eyes. The people who once danced with dragons beneath lantern-lit skies. And the citizens who now whispered about control and safety. Primara was already preparing for a mission. Against VulcanFire. Against her home. Her responsibility. The weight of it pressed against her ribs. If she did nothing, VulcanFire would continue tightening its grip—out of fear, out of grief, out of a past that never healed. If she acted…She might stand against her own father. Atlas nudged her gently. She placed her hand against his snout, grounding herself.
" I've seen us at our best," she murmured. " And at our worst."
Her reflection shimmered faintly in the balcony glass—not just a girl. The Dragon Savior.
" Maybe," she breathed, " it's my responsibility to make sure we become our best again."
Behind her, a door opened. Aeron stepped out, fully dressed, adjusting his jacket. Violet followed moments later, quieter than usual. Starfania turned before they could read too much in her expression. Composed. Calm. Ready.
" Time?" Aeron asked. She nodded. " Time."
But as they stepped toward the door that would lead them to the Grand Hall—and two decisions that would shape Avalon—one truth remained heavy in her chest. She was about to stand in a democratic nation preparing to move against a kingdom ruled by her father. And this time, she wouldn't be carried on anyone's shoulders. She would have to standalone.