We fly.
The world blurs—forest, river, mountain. Wind tears at my clothes; Sarak’s wings beat like war drums. I cling to his neck, elf-light weaving shields around us, illusions cloaking our path. Hours compress into heartbeats. The sun bleeds across the sky, racing us west.
My village appears below—smoke, screams, the clash of steel. Revaster’s forces swarm the square. My father on his knees, my mother shielding my sister. A blade raised.
Sarak dives.
Dragonfire erupts, a tidal wave of gold. Soldiers scatter, burning. I leap from his back mid-dive, roll, come up casting—illusions of a hundred dragons, a storm of emerald bolts. Villagers rally behind us, hope flaring.
Revaster steps from the smoke, staff blazing. “You’re too late.”
Sarak lands between him and my family, wings mantled. “Your war ends here.”
Revaster laughs. “A dragon and a thief againstagod?”
I meet Sarak’s eyes. We nod.
“Together,” I say.
He breathes fire; I sing. Gold and green braid into a lance of pure light. Revaster raises his staff—but is too late. The magichits him square, unraveling his form thread by thread. He screams, a sound of centuries of cruelty finally meeting justice.
The army falters, then breaks.
Villagers cheer. My family runs to me—alive, whole,safe.
Sarak shifts back, pulls me into his arms. “It’s over.”
I bury my face in his neck, tears freezing on my lashes. “We did it.”
“We did it together, as one,” Sarak growls.
Later, under starlight, my village feasts. Sarak sits beside me, tail curled around my waist, accepting toasts and shy curtsies. My sister tugs his wing, demanding a ride. He laughs—a belly laugh that fills my heart with joy—and obliges.
I lean into his side. “Think you could get used to village life, Daddy?”
He nips my ear. “Only if you promise to keep sneaking out of caves.”
I grin. “Deal.”
The fire stone’s dust is scattered to the winds. The curse is broken. Revaster is gone.
And for the first time in my life, I am exactly where I’m meant to be—safe in my dragon’s arms, mischief in my heart, and a future bright as dragonfire ahead.
Epilogue
Five Moon Years Later…
The village square smells of fresh bread and pine smoke.
Children—human, fox-kin, and a handful of newly arrived residents with tiny scales glinting along their collarbones—chase each other between market stalls.
A dragon the size of a pony, Sarak’s youngest niece, gloriously winged, swoops low, scattering laughter and feathers.
Sarak lounges against the well, arms folded, tail curled lazily around a tankard of cider. He pretends not to notice the children tugging his tail, but the corner of his mouth twitches.
I lean over the bakery counter, trading honey rolls for gossip.
Hanna’s ears twitch. “Another clutch hatched in the Emberfall Aerie. Three eggs—gold, emerald, and onesilver. Never seen that before.”
