The adrenaline of the race lingered in the air long after the dragon's roar faded into the breeze. As the sun melted into the horizon, painting VulcanFire's skies in ribbons of gold and rose, Starfania and Aeron walked side by side toward their dragons, while Violet was still on top of Drogo's back. Their laughter softened into quiet smiles, replaced by the peaceful silence that only came after shared joy. Bone and Drogo rested near one another, their powerful forms outlined by the warning light. Starfania reached up, gently patting Bone's head, her palm brushing against the warmth of his scales.
" Thank you," she whispered, her voice soft and sincere. Bone let out a low rumble in reply, almost a purr. Aeron mirrored the gesture with Drogo, his grin wide.
" You two were unstoppable out there," he said proudly.
The dragon seemed to preen under the praise, and for a moment, everything felt timeless. The sky above stretched endlessly, and the shadows cast by the fading light wrapped them in a tranquil calm. With a playful grin, Aeron turned dramatically toward Starfania and gave a mock bow.
" Your highness, I concede defeat," he said with exaggerated formality. Starfania arched an eyebrow, smirking. " As you should. It's not every day you get to race the princess of VulcanFire."
Aeron placed a hand over his heart in mock despair. " A tragic day for my pride, but an honor for my heart."
Her laughter rang through the evening air, and for a moment, all their worries dissolved into that shared sound. Beneath the fading glow, they basked in the peace that followed—their friendship, their freedom, and the rare stillness of just being. Every day after that, they made it a point to return to Bone Cave—their sanctuary away from the world. There, they'd sit near the glowing crystal, sharing stories of their day, teasing each other over missed homework, and laughing until the echoes filled the cavern like music. It became their ritual—one small corner of the world where they could breathe and remember who they truly were.
At school, the trio—Aeron, Daniel, and Starfania—grew closer. What began as simple camaraderie soon evolved into something more complicated? Daniel's charm had a way of sneaking under Starfania's skin. His teasing remarks, his knowing smiles—they sent a flutter through her chest she couldn't quite ignore. And lately, she had caught herself waiting for his glances, his voice, the way he said her name. Aeron noticed, of course. He always did. But he never said a word.
Sometimes, when the three of them sat together, laughing, he'd catch Starfania's soft smile when Daniel leaned too close. He'd turn away, hiding the flicker of something he didn't want to name. Starfania tried not to overthink it. Daniel made her laugh. He made her feel seen. And yet, when she and Aeron were together, when it was just them and the quiet air between them, she could breathe differently—freer, deeper, as if the world didn't expect her to be anyone but herself. But for now, she let the days flow as they were—light, full, alive. The best part of her day was always at dusk, riding atop Bone as they soared through the twilight.
The world below shimmered in molten orange, and the stars began their slow dance above. The wind tangled her hair, and for a few fleeting moments, it felt like she was gliding through heaven itself. Life seemed peaceful then—her father buried his royal duties, Ms. Ren ensured she was cared for, her friends grounding her with laughter. And yet…deep down, an unease lingered. A whisper in the back of her mind she tried again and again to silence. Someone was coming. Something she couldn't name. And though she clung to the shimmer of hope in her heart, pretending not to hear the warnings, the wind of fate was already shifting.
The twilight deepened, and far away, the stars over VulcanFire gave way to the looming silhouette of a castle–ancient, vast, and wreathed in shadow. Its tower clawed at the dimming sky, and a haunting stillness settled over its hall. Within its labyrinthine heart sat a figure draped in shadow—the Castle Keeper. His eyes gleamed like dying embers, reflecting the firelight that blazed behind him. Two colossal dragons coiled protectively around his throne, their scales glimmering like liquid obsidian, their eyes alive ancient like wisdom and unyielding loyalty. Every breath the Keeper took seemed to make the flames bend to his will.
The very air trembled with his power, as though the castle itself were an extension of his being. Rumors spoke of him as both protector and executionar—a guardian of secrets buried deep within the stone, where light dared not linger. At his silent command, a guard emerged from the shadow knelt. The Keeper's gaze pierced him like a blade. One word—unspoken but heavy with command—sent the guard disappearing into the darkness, the echo of his steps fading into the endless corridors. When the massive doors sealed once more, the Keeper leaned back in his throne, his dragon hissing softly beside him. His eyes closed, but his mind remained awake—watchful, calculating. Something in the air had changed. And soon…the world of VulcanFire would feel it.