Aeron's POV
I didn't realize I was starting until my chest ached. Starfania lay beside me in the grass, the breeze threading itself through her hair as if it belonged there, dark strands lifting and falling like silk. Sunlight kissed her skin, catching on the curve of her smile—the kind that didn't try to be bright, just was. And her eyes…gods, her eyes. Deep. Endless. Like they held entire constellations no one else could see. The world narrowed to the sound of my heartbeat. Slow. Then, not so slow. Warmth spread through me, quiet and undeniable, and the truth finally settled—heavy, terrifying, and beautiful all at once. I hadn't just been falling for Starfania. I always had been.
Every moment with her felt borrowed from something kinder than reality. Her laugh—light, unguarded—had carried me through days I never talked about. The afternoons we spent wandering the woods replayed themselves in my mind: sunlight breaking through the canopy, her voice weaving stories out of nothing, the way she listened like every word mattered. Every glance lingered a second too long. Every accidental touch sparked something electric. She saw me. Not the version I showed everyone else—but the doubts, the dreams, the fears I barely admitted to myself. And somehow, she made space for all of it. With her, silence wasn't awkward.
It was scary. That scared me more than anything. Because wanting her meant risking this. Us. What we had built so carefully. And yet…the longer I stayed quiet, the heavier the longing became. I caught myself imagining futures I had no right to picture—shared laughter, reckless adventures, a world where she chose me back. As the sky shifted into oranges and violets, I knew a choice was waiting. Hold my heart behind armor. Or finally tell the truth. I didn't know which terrified me more.
Starfania's POV
She pushed herself upright, exhaling softly, and Atlas immediately leaned in, resting his massive head against her leg as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Starfania smiled and ran her fingers over the cool, intricate texture of his scales—comforting, grounding. Aeron and Violet sat nearby, soaking in the quiet. Then Violet grinned. She leaned close to Aeron and whispered something that made him choke on a laugh. Before she could ask what she'd said, she winked at him, snatched my headscarf, and took off running.
" Oh, so that's how it's going to be?" Starfania laughed, already scrambling to her feet. Atlas lifted his head instantly, sensing the shift, and rose with her.
They didn't even need to look at each other—understanding passed between them like a spark. They ran. Violet's delighted squeals echoed through the garden as they chased her down twisting paths and through overgrown arches. Atlas kept pace beside me with surprising agility, his movements fluid and playful, like he'd been waiting his whole life for this exact moment. Laughter filled the air—pure, unfiltered, free. She cornered Violet near a low stone wall and grinned. " Got you now!"
Starfania unleashed her secret weapon. Tickles. Violet shrieked, laughter breaking into helpless gasps as she tried—and failed—to escape.
Atlas joined in, nudging her with his snout, while Drogo barreled over and flapped his wings clumsily, somehow making everything worse. It was chaos. Perfect chaos.
" AERON!" Violet gasped between laughs. " HELP—WE'RE BEING TICKLED TO DEATH!"
Starfania glanced over her shoulder. Aeron stood at a safe distance, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smile he was not hiding.
" Some knight you are!" Starfania called out, breathless. He rolled his eyes.
" I knew you'd say that," he muttered, retreating toward a quiet corner of the garden.
" Buzzkill!" Violet and Starfania chorused. Atlas rumbled approvingly. Then everything changed. Both dragons froze.
Slowly, deliberately, Atlas and Drogo turned toward Aeron, eyes gleaming with unmistakable mischief. Aeron noticed a second too late. He backed up—step by step—until his shoulders met the cold stone wall. The first nudge came from Drogo, gentle but precise. Then Atlas wingstip brushed Aeron's ribs. The sound Aeron made was somewhere between a laugh and a plea for mercy. Seconds later, he was completely overwhelmed—dragons, laughter, flailing limbs, and all. We collapsed into the grass one by one, breathless, aching from laughter, utterly done. For a long moment, no one spoke. We just lay there—friends, dragons, hearts wide open—wrapped in a peace that felt rare and fragile and real. And somehow…perfect.
More than six months had passed since Starfania last stood before Cantina, the memory of that day etched into her like a carving in stone. That was the day she had been entrusted with Atlas—the magnificent white dragon whose presence felt less like ownership and more like destiny. Since then, Starfania had devoted herself to forging a bond with him, one built not on command, but on trust. She had yet to ride him. Not because she didn't want to—but because something inside her whispered that the moment wasn't right. Either she wasn't ready…or Atlas hadn't yet decided that she was. Every day, without fail, she spent hours by his side. She learned the subtle shifts of his posture, the way his tail flicked when he was curious, how his wings relaxed when he felt at ease.
She brushed his gleaming scales until they shimmered like moonlight and fed him small treats he seemed to favor, laughing softly when his approval came in the form of a pleased rumble. She spoke to him constantly—about her worries, her memories, the things she couldn't say to anyone else. And sometimes…he listened. There were moments when words weren't needed at all. A look. A shared stillness. The air itself seemed to hum with understanding, and her heart would swell with cautious hope. But then there were days when Atlas paced restlessly, his wings twitching as if the sky itself was calling him.
On those days, doubt crept in. What if I fail you? What if I'm not the rider you need? She dreamed of flight—of soaring above the clouds with the world stretched beneath them like a painted tapestry. But she refused to rush what was sacred. Each sunset felt like a promise, and until the right moment came, she stayed grounded, cherishing the bond they were patiently weaving together. Yet even in that growing joy, a shadow lingered her father. After her confrontation with Felix, he had decided—quietly, firmly—that it was safer if Starfania no longer attended the meetings. He never said it outright, but the distance was unmistakable.
Even when Cesar noticed her slipping out of the castle night after night, he said nothing. From his window, he would watch her silhouette disappear into the darkness, his chest tight with concern. He wanted to call out. To ask where she was going. To demand answers. But pride silenced him. The halls echoed with her laughter, yet it felt far away—like a melody from a life he no longer knew how to reach. Sometimes he tried: a hesitation question, a shared meal, a comment about the weather. But every attempt felt awkward, forced, as though they were strangers pretending to be family.
In the quiet of his study, he stared at old portraits—Queen Lyria's radiant smile, Starfania's small and laughing at her side. The memories came in waves, beautiful and merciless. He knew he had failed her in ways he couldn't undo. And the fear that she would turn away if he tried to apologize kept him frozen in place. So the silence remained. The garden became Starfania's refuge. That was why the pain struck so suddenly. She turned, expecting to see Atlas nearby—only to find empty space. Her breath caught.
" Atlas?" she called, her voice sharp with unease. No answer. Her heart began to race as she moved through the overgrown paths, brushing past ivy and wildflowers, her thoughts spiraling. He wouldn't leave. He wouldn't just disappear.
Then she saw him. Atlas stood at the far end of the garden, utterly still. Relief surged through her—quickly followed by fear. She rushed toward him, words already forming, worry spilling over—" Atlas, what are you—"
She stopped. Because she saw what he was looking at. Two simple markers rested beneath the shade of an old tree, softened by time and blooming flowers. Queen Lyria. And her baby brother. Starfania's breath faltered. Nearby, another resting place lay nestled among the roots—Virex BoneFlare. Her friend. Her mother dragon. She didn't remember burying him here…but the thought felt distant, hazy. The garden had a way of holding memories in its own quiet way, and she brushed the confusion aside.
Slowly, reverently, she approached Atlas. He lowered his head slightly as she came to his side, his presence steady, grounding. She knelt beside him, fingers trembling as they found the earth beneath her mother's name.
" I didn't know you'd come here," she whispered. Atlas let out a low, gentle rumble—not sorrowful, not restless—but understanding. Tears welled in her eyes as she rested her forehead against his neck.
" I miss her," she admitted softly. " I miss all of them. And some days…I don't know if I'm strong enough to carry what they left behind."
Atlas shifted closer, his warmth enveloping her, his breath slow and calm. In that quiet moment, she felt something loosen inside her chest—just enough to breathe.
" I'm trying," she whispered. " I promise I am."
His rumbled deepened, steady and reassuring, as if answering her unspoken fears. For the first time in a long while, Starfania allowed herself to stay there—not running from the grief, not fighting it. Just sharing it. And Atlas stayed with her, guarding not just the garden…but her heart.