“Drago, you are making me dizzy. Will you stop your pacing and listen to me? You fear this child’s arrival means the end of the Seven Kingdoms.” She waited until his troubled eyes met hers. “It does not.”
His jaw tightened. “Mother… I felt the power in her. The sky tore when she arrived. You saw the mural—you know what it means.”
Valyndra moved forward, placing a calming hand over his. “I do, more than you can possibly imagine. But you forget… the first Guardian Protector was born here, on the Isle of the Dragons. We are the birthplace of the Guardians, Drago. It is only right that she would find her way home now, when the world is shifting.”
His brows drew together. “You think it’s a good thing?”
“I know it is,” she smiled faintly. “The myths tell us—when a Guardian is born, the universe holds its breath. Not because it fears destruction, but because it senses hope. Renewal.”
Draegor stepped forward, his boots barely making a sound on the polished marble floors. He rested a hand on Drago’s shoulder, his expression steady and calm. “You were always so quick to believe the worst, son. But not all great power heralds ruin.” He gave Drago’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Your mother and I will take the girl to Arkla at first light. She should see where it began. The place of the first Guardian. It will help her understand that she needn’t be afraid of what she is destined to become.”
Valyndra smiled, pride shining in her eyes. “You forget… once, you stood here, facing your own doubts. Afraid you wouldn’t be the king your people needed.” She reached up, cupping his cheek. “And yet, when the time came, you became the king who saved us all.”
Drago closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. The tension in his frame eased, his shoulders relaxing under his father’s hand.
“How can you be so sure she won’t bring us danger? How can you be sure she won’t be in danger? She is so young,” he asked softly, his voice hoarse.
Valyndra’s gaze clouded, as if she were lost in a distant memory. “Because she was born for this task, just like those before her. That is the burden and the gift of the Guardian Protectors.”
His father’s voice rumbled in agreement. “It is not by accident this girl has found her way to us. She is part of that lineage. It is an honor, Drago, that you get to meet such a beautiful spirit. I was blessed to have met one myself long ago,” his hand fell from Drago’s shoulder as he reached for his mother with a gentle smile.
“She’s young. Far too young for such a burden,” Drago murmured.
“Which is why we must help her,” Valyndra said, squeezing her son’s hand. “That is the cruelest truth of the Guardians. Their strength is born young… because the fire burns brightest at the start.”
For a moment, silence fell between them—thick with memory, heavy with understanding.
Finally, Drago exhaled and nodded. “Thank you. I need to get back. I believe something else troubles her, and I would like to find out what it is before there are any more surprises.”
Draegor chuckled. “I hate to say this, but I’m glad I let you keep the title of king. I’ve been enjoying your mother’s and my retirement.”
Valyndra stepped forward and kissed Drago’s brow. “Retirement—poo. You just like playing with DJ, Stone, and Roo. They’ve got you wrapped around their little fingers, especially Roo.
“She charged me two gold coins for a hug this morning,” Draegor stated, his chest swelling with pride. “She’s a shrewd businesswoman.”
“Off with you now. Your father and I need to do some research before we meet with your young dragon. Rest easy, Drago. We will handle the rest, won’t we, love?”
“Of course. Of course,” Draegor chuckled.
“But… How…?”
“No worrying,” Valyndra instructed, pushing her son towards the door.
When the door closed, Draegor and Valyndra stood in silence, excitement building as she thought about what it meant to have another Guardian Protector to help protect the universe.
Finally, Draegor looked lovingly at his wife’s flushed face before he spoke. “How much do we tell her?”
Valyndra’s lips curved in a faint smile. “Enough. She must know who she is… but the rest… that depends on her. If she is truly the one, she will hear the Song of the Guardians when we reach Arkla.”
Draegor’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “It’s been centuries since we’ve been there. I wonder if….”
Valyndra’s gaze softened. “I know. It appears the Goddess is not finished with us yet, my love.”
Valyndra smiled when Draegor reached for her hand. Together, they walked out onto the balcony. Draegor wrapped his arm around his mate’s waist, pulling her close. Valyndra stared out over the vast sea as the sun dipped below the horizon—waiting for the dawn that would carry them and the girl, who was both hope and flame, to the place where it all began.
The night air was cool against Phoenix’s skin, the sky above an endless canvas of stars so bright they seemed close enough to touch. She sat huddled on a stone bench along the castle’s outer terrace, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as if she could hold herself together by sheer force of will.
She couldn’t stop replaying it—the way the portal fractured, the terrified look on Spring’s face as she was ripped away, Roam’s cocky grin vanishing in an instant, the twins’ wild laughter fading like a memory. They were gone. All of them.
