Deep within the highest tower of VulcanFire's inner keep, far from the warmth of hearthfires and laughter, the Castle Keeper stood alone. The chamber was circular and windowless, carved from blackened obsidian stone that drank in the light rather than reflected it. Runes—old, forbidden, hungry—etched themselves faintly along the walls, pulsing with a dull crimson color. At the center of the room hovered a magic sphere, suspended by unseen forces, its surface swirling with mist and fractured reflections. Within it—Starfania. Atlas. The garden. The Keeper's thin lips curled upward, not quite a smile.
" So." he murmured, voice smooth as poison poured into wine, " the stars choose you."
The image within the sphere sharpened. Atlas's white scales glimmered beneath the canopy of leaves, his massive form curled protectively around the girl who brushed his head with reverent familiarity. The bond was undeniable. Ancient. Real. The Keeper's fingers twitched.
" A Dragon Savior reborn," he whispered, reverence and revulsion tangled together. " And so soon."
His eyes flicked away from the sphere only briefly—to another table in the chamber, cluttered with tomes bound in cracked leather and dragonhide. Some were chained shut. Others…already open.
" Cosmry has awakened," he continued softly. " Atlas had chosen. Cantina has interfered."
A low chuckle escaped him, dry and humorless. " And Cesar knows nothing."
That was the most delicious part. The Castle Keeper had served VulcanFire long before Cesar ever took the throne. Long before Queen Lyria's laughter echoed through palace halls. Long before dragons were hunted, chained, and broken. He had watched the Dragon Saviors rise. And he had watched every single one fall.
" Balance," he scoffed quietly, extending a hand toward the sphere. " They always speak of balance…until balance threatens power."
The mists shifted, revealing Starfania laughing—carefree for a fleeting moment—as Violet leaned against Atlas's side. The Keeper's gaze hardened.
" She doesn't even understand what she is yet," he said coldly. " Which makes her dangerous."
His hand lowered slowly, palm flattening against the obsidian altar beneath the sphere. The runes flared brighter, reacting to his intent.
" If Cesar learns the truth," the Keeper muttered, " he may hesitate. He may cling to love. To guilt."
That would not do.
" No," he decided. " This must be handled quietly."
He turned away from the sphere, robes whispering against the stone floor as he approached a sealed door etched with a symbol long erased from public record—the mark of the First Covenant.
" Before her reign begins," he said, voice barely above a breath, " it must end."
His fingers traced the sigils.
" Unless…" he paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, " …she run's."
The sphere flickered again, Atlas lifting his head as if sensing something unseen. For just a heartbeat, the dragon's gaze seemed to turn—not toward Starfania—but toward the tower itself. The Castle Keeper stiffened. Then he smiled.
" Yes," he whispered. " Run, little Savior. Run with your dragon."
His eyes glinted with cruel anticipation. " Because if you stay in VulcanFire…"
" …you will not survive long enough to save anyone." The runes dimmed. The sphere clouded over. And somewhere in the castle, plans began to move—quietly, mercilessly, without Cesar ever knowing—that the greatest threat to VulcanFire was not the Dragon Savior herself…but the moment she realized she had to escape her own home to stay alive.