Atlas growled again—louder this time, the sound vibrating through the stone beneath their feet. It was no longer a warning. It escalated. Starfania felt the tension spike and immediately placed a gentle hand against his neck, fingers threading lightly between the cool, smooth scales. The contact steadied him, her calm flowing through the bond they shared.
" It's alright," she murmured softly. Atlas's growl faded to a low rumble, though his eyes never left the guard. Starfania lifted her chin, meeting the man's stare with quiet resolve.
" I understand your doubts," she said evenly, " but my age doesn't define my worth…or my capability."
The guard stepped closer anyway, boots scraping against the stone, unwilling to be disarmed by calm words alone.
" And yet you stand here unproven," he replied sharply. " What exactly do you bring to the table that the rest of us don't?"
Starfania opened her mouth—but before she could answer, a new presence cut through the tension like a blade. " What seems to be the problem?"
Both of them turned instantly. Lyam approached from the far end of the platform, his stride controlled but unmistakable authority. His gaze swept over the scene—the drawn tension, Atlas defensive stance, the guard's raised posture—absorbing everything in a single glance. The guard reacted immediately. He straightened, fastening his sword back onto his belt with practiced efficiency, posture snapping into rigid respect.
" Sir!" he said sharply. " This young lady was attempting to gain access to the war meeting room, claiming you had granted her permission."
Lyam's eyes shifted to Starfania—then to Atlas—lingering for a fraction longer than necessary before returning to the guard. He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand briefly across his brow.
" She has permission," he said at last, voice edged with mild exasperation. " Because this young lady is the new Dragon Savior."
The words landed like a stone dropped into still water. Silence rippled outward. The guard blinked. Once. Twice. His eyebrows shot upward, surprise breaking through his disciplined expression. He looked from Lyam to Starfania, then back again, as if trying to reconcile the poised girl before him with the title he had just heard.
" The new Dragon Savior?" he repeated, disbelief threading his tone.
" Yes," Lyam said simply. " She was chosen. This is not a title bestowed lightly."
Starfania felt the weight of those words settle around her like armor—heavy, unavoidable, impossible to ignore. The guard studied her again, this time with a different kind of scrutiny. His arms crossed slowly over his chest, not in hostility now, but in guarded assessment.
" Very well," he said after a moment. " What does that mean for us? For Primara?"
Lyam stepped forward, his expression sharpening.
" It means we protect her," he said firmly. " At all costs. A Dragon Savior is not merely a symbol—she is a beacon. Hope, stability, unity. We can not afford to underestimate her."
Atlas lifted his head slightly, as if acknowledging the truth in those words. The guard hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face as he weighed Lyam's conviction against his own instincts. Starfania could almost see the struggle play out behind his eyes. This wasn't personal anymore. It was duty. She drew in steady breath and stepped forward just enough to stand beside Atlas rather than behind him.
" I promise," she said quietly but firmly, " to do everything in my power to fulfill this role."
The guard uncrossed his arms slowly. His gaze softened—not into trust, not yet—but into something closer to acceptance.
" Then I suppose we have much to discuss," he said. " But understand this…my trust is earned, not given."
Starfania inclined her head. " That's fair."
Without another word, he pivoted toward the towering doors of the Grand Hall. Atlas moved to Starfania's side as she stepped forward, the massive dragon's presence a silent promise that she would not walk into whatever awaited her alone. The doors loomed ahead. And beyond them…The future of Avalon was waiting.