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The cavern reeked of rusted metal and broken dreams. The air was thick, unmoving—like time itself had abandoned this place. A single torch flickered near the entrance, casting long shadows across the jagged stone walls. They danced like specters, mimicking the twisted shapes of her pain.
She did not know how long she had been here—days, weeks, centuries? The silence had long since drowned the sound of her voice, her cries, her curses. But even silence couldn't drown the echo of betrayal. It pulsed through her, louder than any scream.
Her chains clinked faintly as she shifted. Magic-suppression shackles—runes etched deep into the obsidian steel. She had once broken mountains with her will, called storms with a breath. Now, she could barely summon warmth.
And yet, something stirred.
A whisper. Not from the guards, not from outside. Something older. Deeper.
She raised her head. Eyes dim, but alert.
A faint glow traced the edges of the cavern's far wall. At first, she thought it a hallucination—a cruel mirage of hope. But it grew stronger, humming with forgotten power. The symbol etched into the stone began to pulse—one she hadn't seen since…
Her heart clenched.
It was the sigil of her family.
No one should have known that mark. It had been lost when the skies turned red, when the world she knew burned.
Something was happening.
Yuna clutched her chest, the place where her human heart had once beat. The thrum she felt wasn't just magic—it was memory, buried deep beneath the layers of who she had become. It stirred something ancient within her. Something lost.
"She's in pain," Yuna whispered, barely aware she'd spoken aloud.
Lisa and Rite exchanged glances.
"Who?" Lisa asked, voice cautious.
"I don't know," Yuna said quickly—too quickly. "But someone is trapped. Close. Below us, maybe."
Lisa looked down, then to the lavender plant. "Could it be the one who left the notes? J.T.?"
"Or something worse," Rite muttered.
Yuna didn't answer. She couldn't. Because deep in her core, she knew it wasn't J.T. who was calling out. It was someone whose voice she should've forgotten in this life—but hadn't.
The fog outside suddenly shifted, pulling back like a breath being held. The village, for a moment, felt suspended in time.
Then came the sound.
Not a growl. Not a roar.
A cry.
Faint. Echoing.
Like a mother calling out for her child.
Beneath the village…
Her chains groaned as she pulled against them, desperate now. The old wards cracked faintly, like ice under strain. For the first time in centuries, she felt warmth—not from the cavern, but from her soul.
"She's near," she breathed.
The stone before her shimmered, revealing a fragmented image—blurry, but real. A girl with silver scales and eyes like her father's. A dragon, but more than a dragon.
Her heart broke open.
"She lived," she whispered. "My daughter lived."
Tears streamed down her face. The fire in her chest surged with new strength.
But she knew. If her daughter had returned… then they would know too.
And they would come.
Back above…
Lisa stood at the window, staring out at the towering obelisks. "Rite," she said slowly, "these things—they're weakening. Do you feel it?"
He nodded grimly. "And that means whatever's down there… won't be for long."
Yuna turned toward them, her voice steady now.
"We have to find the source of the magic. If something's breaking the seal, we need to see what's really going on. Before someone else does."
Rite eyed her. "You're unusually determined."
Yuna held his gaze, the fire in her eyes too bright for comfort. "Because I have to be."
As the trio stepped outside, into the whispering fog, none of them noticed the figure watching from the treeline. Cloaked in shadow, the watcher held a sigil carved into their palm—the crest of a forgotten royal house.
And their eyes were fixed on Yuna.
Yuna's claws brushed the strange sigil carved into the obelisk's base. She didn't know how she recognized it—but it felt like something buried in her blood. A symbol passed down not by learning, but by lineage.
The stone was cold, but the moment her talons made contact—it warmed.
A sharp pulse echoed through her skull.
A voice.
"…Yuna…"
She staggered back.
Lisa caught her, arms strong despite her surprise. "Yuna? What's wrong?"
"I… heard something." Her voice was hollow, far away. "A voice. Calling my name."
Rite looked around. "Magic hallucination?"
"No," Lisa said, frowning. "That looked like a reaction. Like the obelisk responded to her."
Yuna kept staring at the stone. The symbol had changed—just slightly. A single glowing line now curved beneath it like a crescent.
And for a moment… she saw something. A memory? A dream?
A tall elven woman, pale and radiant, holding a baby wrapped in silver cloth. She was singing something ancient, in a tongue Yuna didn't know—but her heart did.
Yuna gasped.
"She's… she's down there."
Lisa and Rite froze.
"Who is?" Lisa asked cautiously.
"I don't know. But she's trapped. Beneath the village."
Lisa turned to the obelisks again, her voice dry. "Then these really are seals."
"Not just seals," Yuna murmured. "Prison bars."
Below the village…
She lay slumped against the stone, her body shaking.
The seal had responded.
The dragon blood, faint though it was in this new form—it had returned. Her daughter had returned.
But if she could feel it—then they could too.
She dragged herself upright, wincing as the chains dug into her skin. Her magic was still weak, sealed by the warding, but her mind was clear for the first time in centuries.
Yuna. Please… come find me. Before they do.
In the shadows nearby…
The cloaked figure stepped closer to the village, eyes narrowed beneath a porcelain half-mask.
Their palm still burned from the sigil ritual.
"She's here," they whispered.
A second figure emerged beside them—taller, armored in quiet leather.
"We need to report to the Royal Descendants. If that dragon child reaches her… all the blood we spilled will be for nothing."
The first figure's eyes flashed.
"Then we'll stop her."
Back with the group…
"We need to go down there," Yuna said firmly, her voice cutting through the thick air like a blade.
Lisa hesitated. "Yuna… we don't know what's waiting."
Yuna looked over her shoulder, her golden eyes sharper than ever.
"I do."