That night felt longer than eternity. Victoria could not close her eyes, and Harold paced the room endlessly, the only sound being the anxious tapping of his boots on the marble floor. Orin remained awake with them, silent, thoughtful, waiting for the unknown.
Just before dawn, the glowing light radiating from baby Luna's body faded. Silence blanketed the room. Everyone stood frozen. Each time Victoria feared her daughter was gone, she rushed toward her, but Orin and Harold held her back. She cried out, weeping: "My baby... don't go far. You're my only hope."
Orin approached the child. She was completely still, not breathing. Her body lay limp in her crib. Adjusting his glasses, Orin observed her face. "Has her body failed to endure the power of the royal dragons?"
Elsewhere, high in the mountains, Diana watched the young dragon. She felt no affection for him. To her, he was a priceless treasure that could fulfill her every ambition. She knew he was powerful, even before inheriting his parents' strength. She planned to tame him, to ensure he would always be hers to command.
Back in Luna's room, the first rays of sunlight crept through the curtains. Victoria screamed: "Luna! Wake up!" Suddenly, a powerful light burst from the child's crib. Everyone rushed to her. She opened her eyes. Her hair was pure white like snow, her eyebrows the same. Her skin shone with an unnatural clarity, and her eyes were sharp, brilliant blue. She looked at them with innocent wonder. She was alive! Perhaps her heart had responded to her mother's desperate call.
Victoria collapsed in tears and hugged her daughter tightly. Harold tried to stop her, but Orin gently held him back. "Let her feel motherhood," he said softly.
Luna was gentle, reaching for her mother's hand with innocent trust. Her features looked strange—no longer entirely human—but her beauty was unlike anything imaginable, ethereal and unique.
Harold retreated to his study. Orin followed.
"What shall we do, Orin?" Harold asked.
Orin looked at him for a long moment. "You know what must be done."
"But that would crush what little hope Victoria has left! Isn't there another way?"
"If you want to save your only daughter's life, you must give her up—and soon," Orin said with sorrow.
Victoria still held Luna, staring at her white hair, kissing her tiny hands. She thought, for a moment, of running away—but she knew Harold would find them.
Harold entered the room. "Victoria, come with me. I need to speak with you in private."
"I won't leave my daughter. Say whatever it is here. Orin is no stranger."
"I understand how you feel," Harold said gently, "but to save her, she must be kept far away from us."
"You liar!" Victoria cried. "You just want to rob me of the only joy I have!"
"The dragon heir will return—and he will kill her. By keeping her here, you are leading her to death."
Victoria looked at Orin desperately. "There's no other way? Can't she retain just a part of the power?"
"If there were any way," Orin said with deep regret, "I would have told you. But she will die, and when the heir of dragons reaches his full power, he will annihilate humankind."
Victoria dropped to her knees, crying bitterly as she embraced her daughter and buried her face in her tiny shoulder. Then Orin left the room, Harold close behind.
"We move tonight," Harold said grimly.
Far away, in a modest cottage nestled deep in a quiet forest, a farmer named Kyle, with a missing leg, picked wildflowers for his ill wife, Helen. Her condition was worsening, but she always smiled.
She sat on her bed, watching the little bird in the cage. "You're beautiful. I'll ask Kyle to set you free tonight."
Kyle entered with a smile. "I brought you spring flowers."
"Let the bird go," she said softly. "Don't keep it locked anymore."
He laughed. "As you wish. I only wanted it to keep you company."
That night, while the world slept, Victoria gave Luna a final embrace. Dressed in black cloaks and armed with swords, Harold and Orin rode their horses through the shadows, the baby in Orin's arms. The hooves of their horses struck the earth with a heavy rhythm. They galloped across silent paths, toward a destiny unknown.
At the cottage, Kyle sat telling his wife a story when her cough grew violent, blood staining her lips. Many doctors had declared her beyond help. Kyle often wept alone in the hills, with nothing to offer but his love.
Suddenly, his dog Belos began to bark wildly. Hooves echoed in the distance. Kyle froze, his eyes fixed on the door.
He heard the horses now.
Standing cautiously, Kyle asked from behind the door, "Who comes at this hour? Friend or foe?"
Kyle opened the door, and there they were—the king and Orin, with a child wrapped in blankets.He welcomed them with heavy silence, sensing something grave had just begun.
Orin said with a half-smile,"Aren't you going to invite us in, Kyle?"
Kyle nodded."Come in. It's not much… but it's all I have."
Orin, ever calm, gave a half-smile:"No royal feast needed tonight. Just your kindness."