One hundred years had woven a tapestry of peace across the lands once torn by war. The alliance between humans and dragons, forged in the fires of desperation and sealed with the blood of heroes, had not only held but flourished. Cities rebuilt, cultures intertwined, and the name "Melkvey" became synonymous not just with the majestic Silver Dragon Queen, but with the bridge between two worlds.
The Silver Dragon Castle
At the heart of this new era stood Silver Dragon Castle, its spires gleaming under the sun. But the throne room, once the domain of the serene and formidable Rossweise, now hummed with a different energy.
Noah Cosmodeous Melkvey, at the remarkably young age of 110, had ascended as the new Silver Dragon King. The poker-faced, reserved girl of a century past was gone, replaced by a leader whose expressions were as open as the skies she commanded. A confident, sometimes roguish grin, eerily reminiscent of her father, often played on her lips. She ruled with a blend of her mother's innate grace and her father's unshakeable, pragmatic will. The lightning that crackled at her fingertips was not just a weapon, but a symbol of the swift, decisive justice and vibrant life she brought to her reign. The youngest Dragon King in history had earned her title not through lineage alone, but through strength, wisdom, and a heart that had learned to love as freely as it fought.
The Mountain Homestead
Far from the castle's grandeur, nestled in the serene mountains that bordered the unified human-dragon territories, life moved at a gentler pace. Here, on a sprawling farm he had carved out with his own hands, lived Leon Cosmodeous.
The Heartguard Dragon Scale, given to him by Rossweise a lifetime ago, had synchronized their lifespans and preserved him. At 130 years old, he carried the vitality and appearance of a man in his prime, his eyes holding the wisdom of centuries and the warmth of a life fully lived. His wife, Rossweise, her beauty undimmed by time, moved with the same effortless grace, though now it was among sheep, cattle, and crops instead of courtiers and battlefields.
On this particular evening, the air was thick with the scent of hay and blooming night flowers. Leon lay with his head in Rossweise's lap on the porch of their rustic home, watching the sun paint the sky in hues of orange and purple. Her fingers, once that wielded primordial magic to judge souls, now gently stroked his hair in a rhythm as ancient and comforting as the land itself.
Leon sighed, a sound of pure contentment. He had accomplished the dream he had whispered to himself in the darkest days of the war.
Brought a land in the mountain? ✅️
Living a peaceful, slow life? ✅️
Raised daughters? ✅️✅️✅️
Gets married to a woman neither beautiful or ugly? ❎️
He looked up at Rossweise, whose silver eyes met his with amused affection. A massive, glorious, breathtaking. His wife was, and would always be, impossibly, devastatingly beautiful.
A sonic boom ripped through the tranquil evening, a familiar and welcome disruption. Four silver dragons descended from the sky, their forms shifting mid-air to land gracefully in the farmyard. Noah, having flown straight from her royal duties, was followed by Muen, Aurora, and Muse.
"Daddy!" his second daughter, still very much the daddy's girl even a century on, launched herself into his arms with the same energy she had as a child.
Rossweise raised a regal eyebrow at Noah, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Shouldn't you be holding court at the temple, Your Majesty?"
Noah grinned, that very Leon-like grin. "Paperwork can wait, Mom. The Queen is entitled to a three-day break to visit her parents."
For three days, the homestead was filled with the vibrant, chaotic, and loving energy of a reunited family. The farmhouse echoed with laughter, shared stories of royal duties, academic intrigues, and artistic pursuits. They had family dinners where Muen, true to form, devoured steaks with undiminished enthusiasm, and Leon regaled them with exaggerated tales of trying to teach his dragon-queen wife how to ride horses.
Three days later, it was time for goodbyes. Noah kissed her parents. "Bye, Mom, Dad. I'll visit soon."
Aurora, now a renowned professor of strategic arts at St. Heath Academy, waved. "My students await. Try not to get into too much trouble without us." Her eyes twinkled with a familiar mischief.
Muse, the quiet artist of the family, hugged them both tightly. "I have a musical performance with Hefei in the city. I'll send you a memory stone."
Soon, only Muen remained, curled up contentedly in her father's arms like the little girl she would always be to him. She had grown into a stunningly beautiful woman, her spirit as fiery and loving as ever.
Rossweise smiled. "Muen, want steak for dinner?"
Immediately, the signature cowlick in Muen's hair perked up straight. "Yes! Yes! Love you, Mom! Mom's steak is the best!"
As the three of them—Leon, Rossweise, and their forever-youngest—watched Noah, Aurora, and Muse disappear into the horizon, a profound peace settled over the farm.
.
.
.
SWOOP!
Aurora appeared in the doorway of a elegant, book-lined library in her own city home. "Sweetheart, what are you doing in Mom's library again?"
A little girl with sparkling pink eyes and a mischievous grin, a perfect blend of Aurora and her own father, looked up from a heavy, leather-bound book. "Mommy! Was Grandma and Grandpa really that cool? And Aunt Noah, and Aunt Muen, and Aunt Muse?"
Aurora smiled, a softness in her eyes that she reserved for her family. "Of course they are. But your mother is the coolest." She picked up the book her daughter was reading. "Oh my. It's been fifty years since I finished writing that."
The title, embossed in silver, read: "SHUT UP EVIL DRAGON I DON'T WANT TO RAISE A CHILD WITH YOU ANYMORE" by Aurora C. Melkvey.
A voice called from downstairs. "Hey, dinner's ready!"
The little girl jumped up. "Daddy! Grandpa and Grandma are the coolest! Let's go visit them again!"
Aurora sighed in mock exasperation, a gesture she had unconsciously inherited from her own mother. "It's only been two weeks since you last saw them."
"I wanna go again!" the girl insisted, her stubbornness a family heirloom.
"Okay, okay," Aurora relented, her heart swelling with love. "Next weekend."
"Yay! Mom is the best!" The girl cheered as her father, a kind-faced man with a gentle strength, entered and scooped her up, carrying her out of the library.
Alone for a moment, Aurora gazed at the book on the shelf. It was more than a memoir; it was the story of her childhood, her family's struggles, their laughter, and their unbreakable bond. A slow, wicked smile, the one she reserved for her father, spread across her face. She murmured to the silent room, her voice a soft promise carried on the winds of time:
"Dad... it's been a long time since I gave you an uppercut. Be ready."
She placed the book back on the shelf, its story complete, yet its legacy living on in the laughter of a new generation. Under the vast, peaceful sky, from the royal castle to the mountain farm, the melody of the Melkvey family continued to play—a timeless symphony of love, lightning, and the promise of forever.