Starfania drew back the curtains, a golden stream of morning light spilled into the room, chasing away the last remnants of night.
Dust motes drifted lazily through the air, glowing like tiny embers suspended in sunlight. It should have felt peaceful. Instead, unease settled deep in her chest. Today they were visiting the laboratory. The one that had haunted her dreams. The one where she would have to listen—truly listen—to how her homeland…was about to cause irreversible damage to Avalon. Her home. Her father. Her past. The only thing keeping her anchored was the quiet, comforting sight near the door. Atlas lay curled in a loose spiral, tail flicking occasionally as he slept. Soft purrs rumbled from his chest, low and steady, filling the room with a warmth that soothed the jagged edges of her thoughts.
He had stayed awake all night. Watching her. Guarding her. Starfania's expression softened.
" Sleep," she whispered, barely audible. She dressed quietly, moving with exaggerated care as she tiptoed around him. When she reached the door, she left it slightly ajar—just enough for him to slip through if he woke. The moment she stepped into the hallway, a rich, mouthwatering aroma wrapped around her like an invisible hand. Breakfast. Her stomach growled before she could stop it.
Following the scent, she entered the kitchen to find Aeron and Violet already seated, stacks of golden pancakes piled high between them. Syrup glistened in amber streams down the sides, butter melting into glossy pools. They were mid-conversation, laughing softly. For a moment, the sight felt…normal. Safe. Aeron looked up first, a grin spreading across his face as he gestured dramatically toward an empty chair.
" Well, well," he said, with a mock grandeur. " The princess is finally awake."
Starfania rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile as she sat. She cut into the pancakes, stream curling upward, and took a bite. Her eyes widened. " These are incredible."
Aeron beamed, pride written all over his face. " Family recipe. Been passed down for generations."
Violet leaned back with a satisfied sigh. " Big brother is definitely the best cook I know."
Aeron chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. " I do try."
The warmth of the moment wrapped around Starfania—simple, ordinary happiness. And then—the memory surged forward. She stood once again in the war chamber; the vial raised in her hand. Silence. Absolute, stunned silence. Shock rippled across the gathered leaders as realization set in. Whispers died before they could form, swallowed by the weight of what she was holding. Lyam was the first to recover.
" Where did you get it?" he demanded, urgently sharpening every syllable. Starfania turned toward him, forcing herself to remain steady despite the storm inside her mind. " Do you remember the VulcanFire camp you were last at?"
" Of course," he replied immediately. Her grip tightened around the glass. " When my friends and I were searching for you…we found that camp. The vial was hidden inside a book."
Lyam went still, processing. The frustration flashed across his face.
" You're telling me you've had this all along," he said sharply, " and never thought to inform me?"
Starfania shrugged, though tension coiled in her shoulders.
" I didn't know what it was. It looked like an old vial." She met his gaze. " And you did imprison us, remember."
Lyam pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily as if fighting a headache. He turned to Aeron, silently asking for support. Aeron just smirked.
" Don't look at me," he said. " I wasn't the one who locked us up."
Violet crossed her arms. " You also separated us from our dragons. Not exactly a welcoming introduction."
Lyam's jaw tightened.
" I understand that," he said through clenched teeth, " but knowing about this could have changed everything."
" Maybe," Starfania replied quietly. " But it didn't feel important…until now."
Aeron shifted, clearly entertained despite the stakes. " If we're assigning blame, we're all going to be busy for a while."
" This isn't a game," Lyam snapped. " Lives are at stake."
Violet stepped forward, voice calmer but firm. " Arguing won't help. We need to figure out what this poison is capable of."
Lyam's gaze returned to the dark liquid swirling inside the glass.
"...Fine," he said at last. " Take it to our head scientist immediately."
He met Starfania's eyes, the gravity of the order unmistakable. " Do not delay."
Violet raised her hand. " Where do we find them?"
Lyam pointed toward the distant beyond the hall. " You can't miss it. A white marble structure with a glass dome. They'll be inside."
He paused, then added, " Wears a red lab coat. Very…distinctive."
" Starfania."
She blinked. The kitchen snapped back into focus—sunlight, pancakes, syrup, Aeron watching her with mild concern.
" You okay?" Violet asked gently. Starfania realized her fork had gone still mid-air.
" Yeah," she said quickly, forcing a small smile. " Just thinking."
Thinking about the mission. Her first mission as the Dragon Savior. Deliver the poison to the scientist. Find a way to stop it. Protect the dragons. Protect Avalon. Even if it meant confirming everything she had once called home. She took another bite of pancakes, grounding herself in the present—warmth, sweetness, normalcy.
But beneath it all, determination hardened quietly inside her. Today wasn't just another day. It was the beginning of the path she had chosen to walk. And this time…she would not run from it.
Atlas growled again, this time more fiercely, as if to escalate his warning. Starfania placed a gentle hand on his neck, a calm gesture amidst the tension. "I understand your doubts, but my age doesn't define my worth or my capability. "
The guard stepped closer, unwilling to let her words disarm him. "And yet, you still stand here, unproven. What do you bring to the table that the rest of us can't? "
Before Starfania could say anything else to the guard, Lyam suddenly emerged, his commanding presence capturing their attention immediately. His gaze swept across the scene before he asked, " What seems to be the problem? "
The moment they turned towards him, the guard straightened, swiftly fastening his sword to his belt with practiced elegance. His posture shifted to one of rigid respect, a silent acknowledgement of Lyam's authority.