Starfania's hand drifted to her chest, fingers curling into the fabric there as if she could physically hold herself together. The words began spilling out before she could stop them—unpolished, tangled, honest.
" I don't get it," she whispered, her voice cracking as she looked up at the dragon. " I really don't. My whole life feels like a cruel joke. Every time I think things might finally settle, something else happens. I lose someone. I get pushed aside. Forgotten."
She swallowed hard. " So how am I supposed to believe that this—that I—was chosen?"
She shook her head, a bitter laugh slipping out.
" Life likes to play games with me," she murmured. " And I'm always the one left picking up the pieces."
Her hand pressed harder against her chest as if the ache there had become too much to ignore.
" I'm scared all the time," she admitted. " Scared I'll fail. Scared I'll lose everyone again. I worry that my best won't be enough."
Her voice wavered. " How could someone like me be the Dragon Savior?"
The dragon did not move at first. Then, slowly—deliberately—he lowered his massive head until it rested against her. The contact was warm. Solid. Real. Starfania froze. Her breath caught in her throat, every muscle locking as she stood there, stunned by the sheer trust in the gesture.
His forehead pressed gently against her temple, his presence steady and grounding, as if anchoring her to the earth itself. Cantina watched from a distance, saying nothing, her sharp eyes missing nothing at all. The dragon tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving Starfania's face. In that moment, something passed between them—silent, profound. It felt as though the dragon could see straight through her words, past her fear, into the deep well of pain and uncertainty she carried within her. The wind stirred the leaves around them, their soft rustling forming a quiet, reverent chorus. Every hero has a beginning, the moment seemed to whisper—though no words were spoken. Starfania closed her eyes and took a shaky breath.
The weight of her self-doubt clashed with something new—something stirring awake inside her. She thought of all the times she had felt invisible, overlooked, lost within the fires and shadows of VulcanFire. All the times she had wondered if she mattered at all. Yet here she stood. Chosen. When she opened her eyes again, the world seemed brighter—as if the light itself had leaned closer, curious to see what she would do next.
" You…you see strength in me?" she asked softly, her voice steadier than before. The dragon answered with a low, resonant growl—deep and affirming. His scales caught the light, shimmering as if echoing his certainty.
Hope flickered in Starfania's chest. Tears welled—not from fear this time, but from something dangerously close to belief. This wasn't just a connection. It was a promise. She straightened, her shoulders squaring despite the lingering tremble in her hands.
" I will learn," she said, her voice rising with quiet determination. " I'll make mistakes. I'll fall. But I won't run."
She looked directly into the dragon eyes. " I'll prove myself worthy of this responsibility."
The dragon slowly spread his wings, casting a protective shadow over her—vast, sheltering, unyielding. A silent vow passed between them. Cantina's lips curved into the faintest smile. And in that moment—surrounded by moonlight, memory, and destiny—Starfania felt it. For the first time in her life. She was not alone. And she was ready.