As the woman concluded her explanation, a warm, knowing smile curved across her face—one that carried both kindness and something sharper.
"Allow me to make a formal introduction," she said, her tone softening like a gentle breeze brushing across embers. " I am Cantina. The last Dragon Savior. Also known—rather dramatically—as the Eternal Flame Bearer. "
Cantina. Her gaze carried such quiet authority that it seemed to still the air itself. Starfania found herself frozen again, rooted to the sand. She wanted—desperately—to be like her. To carry that effortless confidence. That unshakable wisdom earned through fire and loss. Beside her, the dragon released a low, impatient huff. With a careful nudge of his massive snout, he encouraged Starfania forward—closer, as if silently telling her to stop standing like a statue and actually exist in the moment. She took one hesitant step. Then Cantina coughed. The sound was sharp. Deliberate.
" If you're the future savior," Cantina said bluntly, all warmth gone in an instant, " then we're in trouble. You don't look like you care nearly enough."
The words struck harder than any blade. Starfania recoiled, taking an instinctive step back. Her breath caught as she searched Cantina's face for a hint of teasing—anything to soften the blow. But there was no humor there now. Only fire. Ancient, unforgiving, and precise.
" You must understand," Cantina continued, her voice firm but not cruel, " being a savior isn't a title you wear when it suits you. It's a burden. A vow. A responsibility you carry for those who cannot protect themselves."
The weight of it pressed down on Starfania's chest, making it hard to breathe.
" I—I want to help," she blurted, the words tumbling out raw and unpolished. " I just…I don't know how."
For a moment, Cantina only studied her. Then her expression softened. She stepped closer, bridging the space between them, and this time her smile carried understanding rather than judgment.
" I know this is overwhelming," Cantina said gently. " You're eighteen. You didn't ask for this. Anyone would hesitate in your place."
Her eyes sharpened just slightly. " But if you let me finish—without interrupting—I promise it will begin to make sense."
Starfania nodded immediately.
" Hearing how the Dragon Savior came to be," Cantina continued, " will help you understand the role you are about to play."
Silence settled again—but it was different now. Not heavy. Expectant. Starfania glanced sideways at the dragon beside her. He stood still, impossibly calm, his presence grounding her in a way she didn't yet understand. Their eyes met—midnight blue meeting endless night—and something unspoken passed between them. No words. No magic surge. Just…recognition, understanding. And yet, beneath it all, hesitation clawed at her heart. Her gaze drifted over his form—and suddenly, the image shifted. For the briefest, most devastating second, she didn't see him.
She saw Virex Boneflare. Blood-streaked scales. The lifeless weight of a dragon she had loved. The memory of kneeling in crimson-stained earth, hands shaking, heart shattering as she mourned a bond ripped away too soon. Her breath hitched. Starfania looked away quickly, afraid Cantina—or the dragon—might see the storm raging behind her eyes. She wasn't just afraid of failing. She was afraid of losing again. And the dragon, without moving closer, lowered his head slightly—as if he felt it too.