Cantina's grip tightened around the sword, her thumb brushing the edge of the glowing jewel as if confirming it was real.
" This blade," she said at last, her voice lowering with reverence, " is called Cosmry."
Starfania's breath caught. Cantina lifted her gaze, eyes sharp yet distant, as though she were standing in another age entirely. " It was a gift from GreekCosmo himself—the eldest of the cosmic dragons. Cosmry was not forged by mortal hands. It was shaped in starfire and tempered in celestial wind, bound with dragon magic that predates Avalon as we know it."
The sword hummed softly, as if responding to its name. Cantina continued, her voice steady but heavy. " It was given to Kyeshia, the first Dragon Savior. He wielded it during the war against Nythros—a creature born from dying screams, pain given form. Nythros fed on despair. Every life it took only made it stronger."
Starfania stared at the blade as if seeing it for the first time.
" And Cosmry," Cantina said quietly, " was the only thing that could stop it."
The weight of history pressed into Starfania's chest. The sword no longer felt like a strange artifact—it felt like a living echo of battles long past.
A relic soaked in sacrifice. Her eyes flicked to the jewel, watching how the moonlight refracted through it, casting faint ripples across the ground. Starfania nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. " I remember when I found it. The way the moonlight hit the blade…it felt like the forest itself went quiet."
She swallowed. " I was drawn to it. It called to me."
Cantina's brow furrowed deeper.
" You think this sword simply chooses its wielder?" She scoffed. " That's naïve."
The air between them crackled, sharp and charged. The dragon remained still, his massive form calm, eyes fixed on the jewel. His breathing was slow, rhythmic—attentive. Listening.
" I know it sounds strange," Starfania said softly, forcing herself not to shrink back. " But it felt…important. Like she was waiting."
She stepped forward, just one step—enough to show she wasn't retreating.
" And now it's in your hands," Cantina muttered, almost to herself. Her gaze dropped to the blade again. " But what if it's more than a weapon?"
Her voice hardened. " What if it's a key?"
The thought lingered, unspoken but immense. Starfania felt it settle on her shoulder like an unseen mantle.
" We should understand its story," she said, her courage surfacing despite the fear. " If it survived all this time…it has a reason."
Cantina studied her for a long moment. Then—just barely—her posture eased.
" You might be right," she conceded. " But first, it must be kept from those who would corrupt it."
She raised Cosmry slightly. The jewel caught the moonlight again, scattering reflections across the sand like rippling water. The dragon stirred. His eyes narrowed, a deep recognition passing between dragon and blade—an understanding older than words. Cantina noticed. Her voice dropped, solemn now. " There is one more thing you must know, Starfania."
She turned fully toward her.
" Cosmry does not awaken for just anyone," she said. " It only answers to a heart that carries three truths."
The jewel pulsed once. " Courage without cruelty."
Another pulse. " Strength without arrogance."
A final, steady glow. " Hope without fear."
Cantina held Starfania's gaze. " That is why the blade still lives."
And in the quiet that followed, the dragon lowered his head slightly toward Starfania—not in command, not in challenge—but in acknowledgment.