The smells of roasted vegetables and sweet berry glaze wafted down the hallway. The amber light from the twin moons filtered through crystalline windows, mixing with the ambient light of the lamps and casting soft shadows across the living room. In the kitchen, she heard Spring talking with their mom and dad. Plates clinked gently, silverware chimed, and laughter curled outward, wrapping her in its warm, familiar embrace.
It good to be home, but I feel… different, her dragon murmured.
Yeah, I feel the same, she agreed.
Phoenix walked into the dining room, grinning when she saw her mom teasing her dad about his cooking. She slid into the seat across from her mom, breathing in the fragrant aroma of the feast in front of her.
Glad mom is home, her dragon purred.
Phoenix snickered.
“What’s so funny?” her dad asked.
She grinned sheepishly at him. “My dragon is happy mom’s home. She missed her cooking.”
Her mom chuckled. “Well, I did get new pots and pans out of being gone.”
“It wasn’t bad after dad started getting the palace kitchen to help with meals,” Spring mumbled, tucking in to her food with the grace of someone who’d been starving for days.
Creon leaned back in his chair, golden eyes gleaming with mock disapproval. “I hope you two understand you’re not helping your cause,” he said, his voice rich with humor. “By the way, you two are grounded for eternity.”
Carmen lifted her glass and added with a pointed look, “Possibly longer.”
Spring groaned, slumping dramatically in her seat. “Aw, man. Even though we helped save the Isle of the Pirates and a bunch of other stuff?”
“Grounded,” Carmen replied sweetly.
Phoenix snorted and nudged Spring, warmth flooding her chest. “It’s all good. We deserve it.”
Phoenix glanced sideways at Spring.
Her sister glowed. There was a confidence in her now—gentle, steady, and beautiful, like the gardens that her sister loved to tend. She wasn’t trying to blend in anymore. She was rooted. Present. Powerful. And she owned her beauty.
Phoenix laid her spoon down and reached for her water. She bit her lip before she looked at her parents.
“I… need to tell you something,” she said softly.
“Anything… you two can talk to us about anything. We are here for you always,” her mom replied.
“What’s up?” her dad asked.
“I learned why I’m the way I am. Why I’m different. There was a place on the Isle of the Dragons—an ancient, sacred place. Valyndra and Draegor took me there. Valyndra is like me—she’s a Guardian Protector,” she said, her voice quiet but steady.
“Creon,” her mom murmured, looking at him with worried eyes and reaching for his hand.
Her dad didn’t speak as he studied her face, he just clenched his jaw slightly and the golden glow in his eyes deepened.
She rushed on. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not leaving—not for a long time. I still have a lot to learn. A lot of growing up to do.”
Her mom reached across the table and took her hand. “We… saw what happened,” she confessed, her voice low. “You’ve always been more, Phoenix, but… it’s a lot… and we worry.”
Her dad leaned forward, his expression fierce but soft. “I don’t care if you can walk between worlds—you tell us before you just disappear or there will be hell to pay.”
Phoenix laughed, a bright sound that lifted the room.
“I promise,” she said.
Under the table… she crossed her fingers.
