The silence between them stretched, thick and fragile. Aeron watched as Starfania took a slow, measured breath, as if bracing herself against something unseen. When she spoke, her voice was steady—but he caught the faint edge beneath it.
" Aeron," she said quietly, " each day as the full moon draws closer, the sword reacts more strongly. It's as if it's alive—attuned to whatever I'm meant to face in just three days."
The words landed hard. His chest tightened, and for a brief moment he forgot how to breathe. Three days. That was all. His mind raced, trying to grasp the implications, replaying everything he'd seen—the glowing sword-pen, the way she sometimes went distant, like she was listening to something only she could hear.
He didn't realize his brow had furrowed until she stepped closer. Her hand rested gently on his shoulder.
" Aeron, I'll be okay," she said, calm and grounded in a way that both reassured and unsettled him. " I know it's dangerous. I won't pretend it isn't. But I've thought this through. I'll take every step I can to protect myself."
He searched her face for doubt. Found none. Instead, he saw resolve—quiet, unyielding, frighteningly brave. Something inside him loosened. Not entirely, but enough.
" …Okay," he said at last, his voice softer than he intended. " I trust you."
Relief flickered across his face—tentative, but real—and it warmed her more than she expected. His lips curved into a small smile, and then he let out a quiet chuckle.
" Well," he teased, " look at you—a real princess. You don't have to be so formal with me."
Without missing a beat, she smacked him on the back of the head.
" OW!" He yelped, clutching the spot in exaggerated pain. " Why would you do that?!"
Barely holding back her laughter, she shot him a look. " That's what you get for throwing around the princess title."
His surprise melted into amusement as he shook his head, laughing under his breath. " I guess I should be more careful with my compliments, then."
She studied him for a moment, her heart lighter than it had been all day.
" Or," she said, raising an eyebrow, " you could just call me by my name."
He shrugged, feigning innocence. " But where's the fun in that?"
" You're impossible," she declared, swatting at his arm. He dodged easily, laughter echoing softly through the cavern. And just like that, the heaviness lifted—if only for a moment. They parted ways soon after, lingering just long enough for the silence to say what neither of them dared voice aloud. Back at the castle, Starfania ate a quiet dinner, the events of the day replaying in her mind like fragments of a half-remembered dream. Later, in her room, she placed the sword before her—still in its pen form, deceptively ordinary. She smiled to herself. Then she crawled into bed.
Over the next two nights, her dream intensified. They no longer felt distant or symbolic—they felt real. Each time she closed her eyes, the beach returned with sharper clarity: warm sand beneath her feet, the hush of waves rolling in under a moonlight sky. The distant cry echoed again—low, powerful, aching with something ancient. A light guided her toward the water's edge. From the heavens, a radiant glow descended, touching the shoreline with an otherworldly brilliance. The air hummed. The sea shimmered. Then she saw them. Piercing blue eyes locked onto hers. The world seemed to stop breathing. She couldn't yet see the dragon's full form, but she felt them—an immense presence, calm and vast, threaded with purpose.
Invisible strands of light stretched between them, binding the soul in silent recognition. She woke each time with her heart racing, certain of one thing: Everything was about to change. The next day, Starfania found herself in the castle library. Stacks of old tomes surrounded her, their pages yellowed with age, ink faded but persistent. She searched for anything—any mention—of the last known Dragon Savior. Hours passed. Then she found it. A name surfaced in the records, spoken only in fragments, wrapped in reverence and tragedy: Cantina. Her breath caught. So the mysterious woman wasn't just a vision. She was real. Starfania traced the words with trembling fingers, hunger for knowledge burning in her chest.
She didn't know the woman's face, her full story, or even her true name—but now she had something solid to hold onto. The past was reaching her. And the full moon was only three nights away.