The river became a galaxy.
One by one, families stepped to the riverbank and released their boat lanterns into the current. Delicate paper vessels, painted in bright colors and intricate symbols, drifted across the dark water with tiny flames glowing at their centers.
Soon the river was no longer a river.
It was a sea of stars.
Golden lights stretched endlessly into the night, carrying prayers, grief, memories, and love toward the unseen gates of heaven.
The villagers stood in silence, watching the lanterns float farther and farther away.
Some smiled through tears.
Others bowed their heads in quiet remembrance.
For one perfect moment, Tel Am was exactly what it was meant to be—a sacred bridge between the living and the dead.
Then the celebration returned.
The families moved back toward the bonfire, where music and laughter swelled once more beneath the stars. The scent of roasted meat and sweet smoke filled the air as villagers danced around the towering flames.
Children ran in circles, chasing one another through firelight and shadow.
Lily laughed as she played with children her age, though every so often Lucy's loving gaze flicked toward her to make sure she was safe.
Nearby, Eliot turned toward Lucy, the bonfire's golden light dancing across her face.
For a moment, he simply stared.
The firelight caught in her hair, softened the curve of her smile, and made her look almost unreal—like she had stepped out of one of the old love songs sung during Tel Am.
He extended his hand toward her.
"Dance with me."
Lucy smiled, warmth blooming in her cheeks as she placed her hand in his.
As Eliot drew her closer, his hand settled gently at her waist.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The music swelled softly around them—drums like heartbeats, flutes weaving through the crackling fire.
Then Eliot leaned closer, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
"You look perfect tonight."
Lucy's breath caught.
A shy smile touched her lips, the kind Eliot had loved since they were young.
"Perfect?" she repeated softly. "After spending the whole day cooking, chasing Lily around, and preparing lanterns?"
Eliot laughed under his breath.
"Yes," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Especially then."
Lucy's cheeks warmed.
"You always say things that make my heart forget how to beat."
"That's because it still reacts to me after all these years."
She laughed softly and rested her forehead against his for a moment.
The world around them faded into little more than firelight and music.
"Do you remember," Lucy whispered, "the first time we danced during Tel Am?"
Eliot smiled instantly.
"You stepped on my foot three times."
Lucy gasped, trying not to laugh.
"It was twice."
"It was definitely three."
She playfully nudged his shoulder.
"And yet you still married me."
His gaze softened.
"I would still marry you in every lifetime."
Lucy's eyes shimmered.
Emotion tightened in her chest, so full and warm it almost hurt.
She looked toward Lily laughing near the bonfire, then back at Eliot.
"This…" she whispered. "This is everything I ever wanted."
Eliot gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"And there will be more nights like this," he promised. "More birthdays. More Tel Am lanterns. More dances beneath the firelight."
Lucy smiled, tears of happiness gathering in her eyes.
"This makes me so hap—"
Lucy's words broke apart.
A wet gasp escaped her lips.
Then blood splattered across Eliot's hand.
Time stopped.
Eliot froze as Lucy's body jerked in his arms.
An arrow shaft jutted from her chest.
Straight through her heart.
For one horrible second, his mind refused to understand what he was seeing.
Then horror shattered through him.
"Lucy."
The name left him as a whisper.
Then louder.
"No."
He caught her as her knees gave way, lowering her trembling body toward the ground.
"No, no, no—please!"
His voice cracked into a scream.
"HELP! HEALER! SOMEBODY HELP!"
The music died.
The clearing erupted into chaos.
Villagers turned in panic, faces pale with terror.
Lucy's blood stained Eliot's hands as he held her.
He had never cried in front of anyone before.
Now sobs tore violently from his chest.
"H-honey," he choked out, tears blurring his vision. "I love you."
Lucy's trembling fingers lifted weakly to touch his face.
Her lips were pale.
Her breathing shallow.
"I love you too," she whispered, voice barely there.
Then her gaze found Lily.
"L-Lily…"
The little girl stumbled forward, tears already spilling down her cheeks.
"Mama…"
Lucy looked at her daughter as though trying to memorize every detail.
Her curls.
Her green eyes.
Her tiny trembling hands.
She used the last of her strength to touch Lily's forehead, leaving a streak of blood there like a final blessing.
"I love you," she whispered. "I'm sorry, my love…"
Her breath hitched.
"Take care of our—"
Blood spilled from her lips.
Then her hand fell.
Still.
Gone.
Before Eliot could even scream her name—
The night exploded.
A deafening roar ripped across the sky.
Flames erupted above the tavern as a black dragon descended from the darkness, its scales gleaming like obsidian beneath the moonlight.
Its eyes burned violet.
Ancient.
Cruel.
Its wings spread wide enough to swallow the stars.
Then it breathed fire.
A torrent of violet flame crashed into the nearest rooftops, igniting thatch and timber in an instant.
Screams erupted.
The village became chaos.
Fire consumed cottages.
Smoke choked the air.
People ran in every direction.
Eliot's grief shattered into pure survival instinct.
He lifted Lucy's body in his arms.
"Lily!" he shouted. "Hold onto my cloak!"
Lily's tiny fingers grabbed the fabric with shaking hands as they ran.
The heat was unbearable.
Flames painted the forest in violent orange light.
Ash fell like black snow.
As they fled down the mountain path, shadows burst from the trees.
Armored figures.
Black steel.
Spears gleaming like fangs.
Before anyone could react, the first spear drove through a fleeing villager's chest.
A scream tore through the night.
Then another.
And another.
Blood sprayed across the dirt path.
The dragon above was no random monster.
This was an attack.
Planned.
Coordinated.
A massacre.
Eliot's pulse thundered.
Lucy was gone.
The village was burning.
And now death waited in the forest itself.
With shaking hands, he hid Lucy's body inside a nearby barn, laying her gently among the hay.
His lips brushed her cold forehead.
"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. "I have to protect our daughter. I'll come back for you."
Then he turned to Lily.
He knelt, gripping her tiny hands.
"Listen to me," he said, voice breaking. "Be brave. No matter what happens, your mother and I will always love you."
Lily's tears fell faster.
"What about Mama?"
Eliot nearly broke.
"She's safe here for now," he whispered. "We'll come back."
Lily nodded, trusting him.
So he scooped her into his arms and ran for the cottage.
Behind them, Riversville burned.
The dragon's violet fire devoured the night, and the screams of villagers echoed through the forest until Lily thought the whole world was crying.
By the time they reached the cottage, Eliot was gasping for breath.
"We take Toffee and leave," he said.
He saddled the horse with frantic hands.
Then froze.
A voice.
Cold.
Sharp.
"Don't move, or I slit her throat."
Eliot turned.
Rob stood in the shadows.
One arm locked around Lily.
A blade pressed against her throat.
Everything inside Eliot went still.
"Why?" he whispered.
The hurt in his voice was deeper than rage.
"Where is the dragon egg?" Rob asked.
Lily's blood ran cold.
He knew.
Eliot's eyes flicked to the bow on Rob's back.
Lucy's killer.
Understanding hit like lightning.
"You."
Rob smiled.
Then Eliot moved.
In one explosive motion, his sword flashed free.
Steel sang.
The blade drove clean through Rob's shoulder.
Rob screamed.
Lily tore free and stumbled back.
Eliot shoved her toward the caravan.
"Inside. Stay there."
Then the world narrowed to steel.
---
The Duel
"You killed my wife," Eliot said, voice shaking with fury.
Rob yanked the blade free, blood dripping down his armor.
"And I'll kill your daughter too if you don't give me the egg."
Steel met steel.
The clash rang like thunder.
Eliot struck first—a vicious diagonal slash aimed at Rob's ribs.
Rob twisted aside, his dark blade rising to deflect the strike in a shower of sparks.
The force of the impact sent both men skidding backward across the wet grass.
Then Rob lunged.
His sword carved a black arc through the air, trailing shadow behind it like smoke.
Eliot ducked beneath the strike, pivoted, and drove his elbow into Rob's ribs before spinning into a rising slash.
Rob barely blocked in time.
The sound exploded like lightning.
They circled each other.
Rain began to fall.
Slow at first.
Then harder.
Silver blade against black steel.
Light against darkness.
Every strike flashed in the storm.
Eliot fought with disciplined precision, every movement sharp and controlled.
Rob fought like madness—wild spins, brutal feints, acrobatic leaps that turned the battlefield into chaos.
The storm made everything glisten.
Mud sprayed beneath their boots.
Lightning lit their silhouettes in blinding white.
Inside the caravan, Lily pressed trembling hands over her ears as every clash of swords shook the walls.
Then—
The egg glowed.
A voice whispered.
Come with me, Lily.
The legendary egg pulsed brighter and brighter until the entire caravan filled with silver-white radiance.
Lily reached for it.
The moment her fingers touched the shell—
Light exploded.
A pillar of brilliance shot into the heavens, tearing through clouds and storm alike.
Both men froze.
Rob's face drained of color.
"The legendary egg…"
Eliot turned toward the caravan.
"No—Lily!"
He sprinted through the rain.
But when he tore open the caravan door—
She was gone.
Only smoke.
Silver mist.
And the fading scent of rain and lightning.
Thunder cracked across the sky.
Rain crashed down in sheets.
The forest bent beneath the fury of the storm.
"LILY!"
His scream vanished into thunder.
Again.
"LILY!"
Only the storm answered.
She was nowhere.
Gone.
And the night that had begun in lantern light ended with a father screaming into the rain.