The group had been following the river for some time, yet there was still no sign of the VulcanFire encampment. Starfania was just about to suggest they make camp when Violet leaned forward on Atla's back, her gaze fixed on the land below. Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. " What happened here? "
Starfania followed her line of sight, her chest tightening as the terrain beneath them shifted from fertile ground to scorched ruin.
" I don't know," she said quietly, dread creeping into her tone, " but I don't think it's going to be a pretty sight."
Intrigued and wary, they descended cautiously. The land below was barren, stripped of life—deep scars of fire and war carved into the soil as if the earth itself had been wounded.
Atlas and Drogo hovered low, their keen eyes sweeping the devastation. There was no sign of life—only silence, broken by the faint crackle of smoldering embers. With growing unease, they pressed on. The air was thick with ash and smoke, clinging to their lungs with every breath. When the dragons finally touched down, the charred ground crunched beneath their claws. Starfania and Aeron dismounted at once. Violet began to slide off Atlas's back, but both of them spoke at the same time.
" Stay on Atlas," Aeron said firmly.
" Just in case," Starfania added. " He can protect you if something happens."
Violet hesitated, her heart racing as she took in the desolate landscape. Slowly, she nodded and remained seated. Around them, the remains of what might once have been a thriving forest lay in ruin—twisted, blackened trunks reaching skyward like skeletal fingers. Starfania knelt beside a small patch of scorched grass, brushing her fingers near the faint heat still trapped beneath the soil. Starfania knelt beside a small patch of scorched grass, brushing her fingers near the faint hint still trapped beneath the soil. Aeron stood guard, his eyes constantly moving, scanning the horizon. Shadows flickered in the haze, and a chill ran down Violet's spine.
" Look," Aeron said suddenly, breaking the heavy silence.
Through the smoke, the faint outline of tents began to emerge—barley visible, blending into the ruined landscape. Starfania rose slowly, her heart pounding as certainty settled in. " I think we've found it."
They moved closer, and the truth revealed itself in full. The camp was in shambles. Once-sturdy tents had collapsed, their fabric scorched and torn. The ground was blackened and lifeless, stamped with the unmistakable marks of battle. Smoke still curled into the sky, carrying with it echoes of suffering—distant cries, agonized screams, the ghosts of a conflict already decided.
Then they saw it. A solitary banner stood amid the wreckage—fiery red, scorched at the edge, yet still upright. A blazing sun radiated outward, flames and wildflowers encircling its core. Starfania's breath caught. The emblem of their home kingdom. VulcanFire. A crushing wave of despair swept through them. No enemy had done this. This was their mark. This was the first time they truly saw why VulcanFire was feared beyond Avalon's borders. For so long, they had lived under the illusion of power—of honor, of necessity. But standing in the aftermath of that power, the truth was impossible to deny. Starfania had always known her father hated dragons.
But the lengths he would go to—this level of devastation—she had never witnessed firsthand. Aeron's hand closed around her shoulder, grounding her as the weight of it all threatened to pull her under. There was no laughter here. No voices. No life. Only silence, thick and accusing, broken by the soft hiss of dying embers. She could almost feel it—the gaze of ancestors, of history itself, watching and judging. Questions churned in her mind like the surrounding smoke. How did it come to this? What justified such destruction? Together, they stepped deeper into the ruins.
The smell of burned wood and ash hung heavy in the air. They stumbled over debris—broken spears, shattered shields—each fragment a testament to lives cut short. Starfania searched desperately for any sign of survival. There was none. Then, just beyond the remains of a tent, something glinted faintly. She knelt, brushing aside soot to uncover a small locket, scratched but intact. Her fingers trembled as she opened it. Inside was a faded image of a smiling child. Innocent. Unaware. Tears burned her eyes as she snapped it shut, the reality of it crushing her chest. This place held memories—families, lives, stories that would never be told again.
" Do you think anyone survived?" Aeron asked softly, the question heavy with dread.
Starfania shook her head, unable to trust her voice. The weight of defeat clung to them, each unanswered question pressing harder than the last. This was no longer just a mission. It was a reckoning. What they had come seeking was now eclipsed by the truth before them. This was the cost of their past. Starfania clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. Deep inside, resolve hardens. They couldn't undo what had been done—but they could decide what came next. The burden of their heritage was inescapable. And now, it was theirs to face. The silence pressed in on them as they moved farther into the ruins, heavy and suffocating.
Even the wind seemed reluctant to stir the ash-coated air. Atlas shifted behind them, wings half-spread, his body angled protectively toward Violet. Drogo prowled in a slow circle, claws scraping softly against the scorched ground, his growl low and constant. Starfania rose from she had knelt, the locket still clenched in her palm. She slipped it carefully into her satchel, as if returning it to the earth would be another kind of cruelty.
" This wasn't a battle," Aeron said quietly, his eyes scanning the destruction. " This was an execution."
Starfania swallowed.
" My father always said VulcanFire struck only when necessary," she replied, her voice hollow. " That every flame had a purpose."
Aeron didn't answer. He didn't need to. A sudden sound cut through the stillness—a soft crunch that wasn't theirs. Atlas's head snapped up. Drogo froze mid-step. Starfania's breath caught. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her hand, signaling silence. Aeron mirrored her movement, his body tensing as his eyes tracked the sound toward the far edge of the camp. Another step. Closer this time. Then—a cough. Not strong. Not threatening. Weak. Violet gasped softly from Atlas's back. " That was…someone."
Without thinking, Starfania broke into a careful jog, weaving between collapsed tents and charred poles. Aeron followed close behind, one hand hovering near his blade.
Near what had once been the central fire pit, they found him. A man—young, barely older than Aeron—slumped against a broken crate. His armor was scorched and cracked, bearing no VulcanFire insignia. Deep burns marked his side, hastily wrapped in bloodied cloth. His breathing was shallow, uneven. When his eyes flickered open, they were sharp despite the pain.
" Don't—" he rasped, trying to push himself up. " Don't come closer."
Starfania dropped to her knees in front of him, hands raised.
" We're not VulcanFire," she said quickly. " We won't hurt you."
His gaze flicked to Atlas, then to Drogo. Fear flashed across his face—then something else. Recognition.
" …Dragons," he whispered. Aeron crouched beside Starfania.
" Who did this?" He asked gently. The man laughed weakly, the sound brittle. " You already know."
Starfania's chest tightened.
" Lyam," she said. It wasn't a question. The man shook his head. " No. Lyam came after."
Her heart skipped. " After?"
" He tried to stop it," the man continued, coughing hard. " He warned us. Told us to evacuate. Said VulcanFire wouldn't spare anyone—dragon ally or not."
Aeron's eyes widened. " Where is he now?"
The survivor's gaze drifted toward the river, where the smoke thinned and the land dipped into shadowed ravines.
" He led the remaining soldiers away," he said faintly. " Drew the hunters with him. Said if he didn't…this place would be ash before dawn."
Starfania felt something crack inside her—relief tangled painfully with guilt.
" He saved lives," Violet said softly from behind them. The man looked at Starfania again, more closely this time. His brow furrowed.
" You," he murmured. " You feel…wrong. Not VulcanFire. Not an enemy."
Atlas stepped forward then, lowering his massive head beside Starfania. The man's eyes widened, awe briefly overtaking pain.
" …Dragon Savior," he breathed. Starfania stiffened. " You know that title?"
" Everyone does," he whispered. " They just pretend it's a myth."
His grip tightened weakly on her sleeve. " If you're looking for Lyam…you're already walking his path."
His hand fell away. Aeron reached forward, checking for breath—then slowly shook his head. The silence that followed was heavier than before. Starfania stood on unsteady legs, staring down at the body, at the devastation, at the truth burning itself into her chest.
" This is what my father is building," she said quietly. " A kingdom feared…and empty."
Atlas pressed his forehead gently to hers, grounding her. Drogo let out a low, mournful sound that echoed across the ruins. Starfania lifted her gaze toward the river, toward the ravines beyond.
" Lyam is alive," she said, resolve sharpening her voice. " And he's still fighting."
She clenched her fists. " We're not turning back. Not now. Not after this."
The ash swirled faintly around their feet as they prepared to move again—leaving the scars behind, but carrying the truth forward with them.