The warmth started that night, as Astraea lay in bed trying to process the day's events. At first, it was subtle—a gentle heat along her spine, centered between her shoulder blades where the wing buds hummed. She thought it was just residual mana from the Beta-4 feeding, circulating through her system.
But by morning, the warmth had intensified. It wasn't painful, but… present. Persistent. Like two small suns had taken up residence in her vertebrae.
Bone remodeling. The words were clinical, but the sensation was anything but. As she dressed for CYAP, she could feel the heat through her clothes. When Mrs. Evans hugged her goodbye, she tensed, waiting for the woman to comment on her warmth.
"You feel a little warm, sweetie," Mrs. Evans said, pressing a hand to Astraea's forehead. "Do you feel okay?"
"Just… growing," Astraea said, which was truer than Mrs. Evans could know.
At CYAP, the warmth became a constant companion. During "Sparkle Math" (counting with lights), during "Luminescent Story Time" (Milly reading about friendly glow-worms), during juice break—the heat pulsed in her back, a steady rhythm that matched her now-slow heartbeat.
Leo noticed immediately. Of course he did.
"You're radiating," he whispered during free play, as they built a tower of "glow-blocks" that actually held their luminescence for minutes at a time. "Thermally. I can feel it from here. Like a space heater."
"It's nothing," Astraea said automatically, then caught herself. After yesterday, after his lie, she owed him more than automatic deflection. "It's… part of the growing."
"Your vertebrae are restructuring," Leo said, not a question. He'd clearly been researching. "For weight distribution. For when your wings finish developing."
She froze, a glow-block halfway to the tower. "How do you know about—"
"My grandpa has books. Old books about mythical creatures. Before the gates, people wrote stories. Some of the stories have… details. Anatomical details that don't make sense unless they're based on something real." He placed his block carefully. "Dragon wings anchor to specially reinforced vertebrae. T5 and T6, usually. They get warm during development because of rapid calcification."
Astraea stared at him. The ten-year-old boy with the single green finger had just described her biological processes with textbook accuracy.
"You've been reading about dragons," she said slowly.
"Since you grew that scale on your arm," Leo confirmed, not looking at her. "I noticed it the day it appeared. Before you hid it. The fractal pattern matched illustrations in a 17th-century bestiary my grandpa has. 'Draconis Luna Argentum'—Silver Moon Dragon. Supposedly extinct for five hundred years."
The tower of blocks glowed between them, a fragile construction of light and plastic. Around them, other children laughed and played. Normalcy. While here, at this table, a dragon and a boy who knew she was a dragon discussed vertebrae calcification.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Astraea asked.
Leo finally looked at her. His eyes were serious, old in a way that had nothing to do with centuries and everything to do with a mind that saw too much. "You were hiding. I figured you had reasons. And…" He shrugged, a very childlike gesture that contrasted with his words. "It's more interesting this way. Watching you. Figuring it out."
The warmth in her back pulsed, as if agreeing.
"Does it hurt?" Leo asked, nodding toward her spine.
"Not hurt. Just… warm. Like muscles after exercise. But deeper."
"Can I measure it?" He already had his thermometer out—the infrared one his grandfather used for electronics work.
Astraea hesitated, then nodded. She turned slightly, presenting her back to him in the crowded room. A risk, but calculated. No one was watching them specifically. They were just two kids with a science project.
Leo aimed the thermometer at the space between her shoulder blades. The device beeped softly. "38.7°C. Your normal skin temp is 34.2. That's a significant increase." He made a note in his ever-present notebook. "The books say the warmth can last up to seventy-two hours. Then the wings enter the next phase. Feather keratinization acceleration."
"You've read a lot," Astraea said, turning back.
"I like understanding things." He put the thermometer away. "And you're the most interesting thing I've ever seen."
The statement hung between them, simple and profound. Not "you're amazing" or "you're scary." Interesting. To a scientific mind, perhaps the highest compliment.
[System notification!]
[Social bond deepened!]
[Friend Leo has taken a sincere interest in your well-being!]
[Reward: 'Understood' Title, +5 to Connection stat]
[Note: Having someone who truly sees you is a special kind of magic!]
The System was right again. Unsettlingly perceptive in its own misguided way.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of warmth and realization. The heat in her vertebrae was a milestone, she understood now. Not just a biological process, but a threshold. Her wings were moving from "developing" to "nearly formed." The anchor points were being set. The foundation was being laid.
And Leo knew. More than she'd realized. He'd known about the scale. He'd known about the wings. He'd been reading, researching, putting pieces together while she thought she was hiding so well.
During afternoon nap time, as the other children slept on their mats, Astraea lay awake, feeling the warmth pulse in time with her heart. The wing buds themselves felt different today—not just masses of developing tissue, but structured, organized. She could feel the beginnings of joint articulation, the ghost-sensation of bones that would soon be real.
Five to seven days. Then she'd have visible feathers. Then hiding would become exponentially harder.
She turned her head and saw Leo on the mat next to hers. He wasn't sleeping either. He was watching her, his green finger glowing softly in the dim room.
He mouthed a word: Okay?
She nodded.
He smiled, a small, private thing, and closed his eyes.
That evening, the warmth was intense enough that Mrs. Evans insisted on taking her temperature. "101.2!" she fretted. "That's a fever, sweetie! Maybe you should stay home tomorrow."
"No," Astraea said, perhaps too quickly. "It's not a fever. It's just… growing. Really fast growing."
Mrs. Evans looked skeptical, but she didn't press. Instead, she made her hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and let her curl on the couch with a blanket. "If it gets worse, we're calling the doctor."
Astraea nodded, sipping the sweet drink. A doctor would find nothing wrong, of course. Or rather, they'd find everything wrong from a human perspective. Elevated temperature, accelerated bone density readings, anomalous cellular activity…
But they wouldn't find a dragon. Not unless she let them.
As she got ready for bed, she examined her back in the bathroom mirror. To human eyes, nothing. Just a child's back. But to her dragon sight…
The wing buds glowed with gentle bioluminescence, silver tracery like captured starlight. And at the center, where they connected to her spine, two points burned brighter—the warm vertebrae, T5 and T6, humming with transformation.
She measured her height, the ritual now accompanied by checking the wing progress.
Height: 0.58 cm cumulative.
Wing development: 81% complete.
Vertebral reinforcement: 91% complete.
The numbers told a story of acceleration. Of a body catching up to four centuries of waiting.
And Leo knew the story too. He was reading along.
She thought about his lie yesterday. His detailed, specific, risky lie to Officer Reyes. He hadn't just provided an alibi. He'd provided a shield. And he'd done it without being asked, without expecting anything in return.
That was friendship, she realized. Not the polite, surface friendship of CYAP buddies. But the deep, risky kind. The kind that saw secrets and chose to stand beside them rather than expose them.
The warmth in her back pulsed, comforting now rather than concerning. It was growth. It was change. It was becoming.
And she wasn't becoming alone.
[System notification!]
[Physiological milestone reached!]
[Wing anchor points strengthening complete!]
[Reward: 'Well-grounded' Title, +10 to Stability stat]
[Quest update: 'The long wait - Muscles remember']
[Progress: Vertebral reinforcement indicates wing muscles preparing for activation!]
[Next objective: Practice wing extension (in safe, hidden location).]
The System was catching up too. Not to the truth, but to the symptoms of truth.
Astraea turned off the light and lay in bed, feeling the warmth spread through her back like a blessing. Like a promise.
Wings were coming. Real wings. Not just buds, not just potential, but flight.
And Leo would be there to see it. To measure it. To understand it.
For the first time in centuries, the thought of being seen—truly seen—didn't fill her with dread. It filled her with something like hope.
Tonight: warmth and wonder. Tomorrow: preparations and partnership. The great unfurling was approaching, and for the first time, she wouldn't face it alone.