The echo of the massive doors thundered through the ancient corridors, their sound rippling into silence. Beyond the throne room's blazing heart, shadows clung to every surface, whispering against the stone like living things. The Keeper's guard—cloaked in obsidian veined with crimson light—moved swiftly down the winding halls. His boots struck the ground in rhythmic precision, each step echoing with precision. He carried no torch; he needed none. The crimson glow of his armor cast thin streaks of light upon the walls, revealing carvings older than any kingdom or nation.
Etched dragons and celestial sigils told the story of the First Fire, the dawn when VulcanFire was born from molten rock and dragon's blood. Each symbol pulsed faintly as he passed, as though the castle itself recognized his allegiance. At the end of the corridor, the guard paused before a towering door forged of blacked steel. Strange runes shimmered across its surface, whispering secrets in a language long forgotten by men. The air was heavy with enchantment—ancient magic that resonated deep in the bones. He raised his hand, placing his gauntleted palm flat against the metal. A surge of heat pulsed through his body, the sigils reacting to his presence. The door responded with a low, grinding groan before splitting open, revealing a spiral stairway that descended into Avalon's heart.
As he made his way down, a faint red mist coiled around his feet. The deeper he went, the more the castle's temperature shifted—from warm and vibrant to eerily cold. Down here, the walls were slick with condensation, and the sound of dripping water echoed faintly through the dark. Finally, he reached a vast subterranean chamber lit by veins of glowing magma snaking through the rock. At the center stood an enormous circular stone dais engraved with the symbol of The Serpent Crown—the mark of VulcanFire's original rulers. Resting atop it was a crystal orb the size of a dragon's heart, its core flickering with flame and shadow intertwined. He knelt before it.
" My lord," he murmured softly, though no one was there.
Yet the orb pulsed in response. The fire inside twisted, forming the vague shape of the Castle Keeper's face—ethereal and burning. His voice, when it came, rolled through the chamber like thunder. " The balance is shifting."
The guard lowered his head further, the weight of the Keeper's words pressing against his chest.
" It has begun," the Keeper continued. " The girl's path unfolds too swiftly. Fate is stirring her hand—one we are not ready to guide."
" The girl?" The guard asked quietly. " You mean… the child of VulcanFire's heir?"
The flames flared violently, momentarily revealing images within the orb—Starfania, laughing in sunlight; Aeron, standing beside her; and Bone, his eyes glinting like starlit flame. The vision shimmered and vanished.
" She is awakening," said the Keeper, his tone a mixture of fascination and foreboding. " The bond between dragon and savior rekindles. The stars mark her once more, as they did in the age of the First Flame."
The guard hesitated. " Shall I intervene?"
The Keeper's voice darkened. " No. Watch. The prophecy must breathe before it burns. But be ready, for soon the world will remember what it fears most."
As his voice faded, the orb dimmed, leaving the guard in half-light once more. The only sounds were the faint crackle of magma and the rhythmic beat of his own heart. He stood, turning toward the passage that led back to the upper levels. Above him, the dragons roared—a low, haunting rumble that trembled through the castle's bones. The flames along the walls flared in response, as if echoing the Keepers' will. The guard's crimson glow vanished into the black as he ascended the stairway once again, his orders sealed in silence.
Far above, the Keeper opened his eyes from his throne, their molten gold irises reflecting the distant firelight. His dragons stirred, their tails curling lazily around the stone pillars.
" So," he murmured to himself, voice low and measured, " the Dragon Savior rises again…but whose savior will she become?"
The question lingered in the smoky air as the last embers flickered and died. The golden light of dawn crept slowly across VulcanFire, spilling over the peaks of the mountains and washing the kingdom in a quiet, dreamlike glow.
In her chamber, Starfania stirred beneath her sheets, her breath uneven. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead as fragments of her dream clung to her mind—visions of fire and shadows, dragons circling in endless night, and a figure cloaked in flame watching from afar. She woke with a gasp, her pulse racing. For a moment, the world around her seemed blurred, like the haze of another realm refusing to let her go. The faint whisper of a voice—soft, echoing—still lingered in her ears. " The stars remember you."
Starfania sat up, clutching her chest as she steadied her breathing. The sunlight streaming through her window danced across her face, yet the warmth couldn't dispel the chill that had settled deep in her bones. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake the fog from her mind. The dream had felt real. Too real. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the reflection of two burning eyes staring back at her. She swung her legs off the bed and stood, padding across the cold marble floor toward her window. Outside, VulcanFire stretched far and wide—the volcanoes glowing faintly in the morning mist, the rivers of lava snaking through the valleys like veins of light.
The view usually brought her peace, but today, it filled her with unease.
" Another nightmare?" Ms. Ren's voice came gently from the doorway. The older woman stood there with her familiar warm smile, carrying a small tray of tea and fruit. Her calm presence always seemed to ease in the air in the room. Starfania turned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
" You could say that," she murmured. " It felt…different this time. More vivid."
Ms. Ren set the tray down beside her bed, her gaze soft yet knowing. " Dreams have a way of speaking to us, especially to those who carry more than they realize."
Starfania frowned slightly, tilting her head. " What do you mean?"
Ren gave a faint, cryptic smile. " You remind me of your mother when she was your age. She, too, had dreams that reached beyond the waking world. Perhaps some gifts run in the blood."
The mention of her mother brought a soft ache to Starfania's heart. " Sometimes, my dear, the gifts we fear most are the ones that define who we become."
For a long moment, Starfania said nothing. She stared out the window again, watching as a flock of ember birds soared through the skies, their fiery wings painting streaks across the horizon. A part of her longed to join them—to fly, to be free from the heaviness pressing on her chest. Ms. Ren's voice pulled her back. " Try to focus on the day ahead. You have your studies, and I believe Aeron is waiting for you outside. You'll feel better once you see your friends."
Starfania nodded faintly, forcing a small smile. " You're right. I just…hope today doesn't feel so strange."
Ren chuckled softly. " Strange days have a way of finding extraordinary people, Starfania. Now, get dressed before he grows impatient."
As Ren left the room, Starfania turned back to the window, her reflection staring back at her. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw something shimmer in her eyes—a faint silver glow, like starlight flickering beneath the surface. She blinked, and it was gone.
" Just my imagination," she whispered. But deep down, she wasn't sure. Outside, a dragon's distant roar echoed across the valley, faint yet resonant—like a call she could almost understand. Starfania's fingers brushed the pendant at her neck, a gift from her mother, its center stone glowing faintly under the morning light. She took one last steadying breath before turning toward the door. Whatever strange feeling lingered from the dream, she would face it head-on.