Eliana stared into space, gently rocking baby Hansel in her arms.

“Mommy?” Hanara’s voice chimed. Eliana blinked and looked up.

“Yes, Hana?” she said softly.

Hanara beamed. “Mommy, look at this!”

She cast a small blue flame in her palm, fluid and shimmering like water. With a flick of her wrist, the flame stretched and danced, trailing behind her hand like a glowing ribbon. She spun and twirled, her laughter light as the fire followed her in elegant arcs.

Eliana watched in awe, her eyes tracing both the flame and her daughter’s grace. A smile touched her lips.

Hansel sat up, his little hands clapping.

“Ha-ba!” he squealed, giggling.

Hanara struck a final pose, stretching one hand high and leaning into the movement. The flame soared upward, then dissolved into the air in a gentle fade. She turned to them, cheeks flushed with pride.

“Did you see? I made it myself!” she said, breathless.

Eliana laughed and drew her close. “It was beautiful, my darling. You controlled your flames so elegantly. Did you have fun dancing?”

“Of course!” Hanara grinned, throwing her arms around both her mother and Hansel. Eliana smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Hansel reached his little hands toward Hanara.

“Ha-ba!” he called. Hanara beamed and scooped him up, spinning him once before setting him gently on his feet. Eliana watched them, her eyes warm.

“Let’s dance together!” Hanara said, holding Hansel’s hand and tugging him gently forward. He tottered beside her, one foot at a time, still learning to balance.

“Be careful with your baby brother, Hanara,” Eliana chuckled. Hanara laughed and bent down toward him, hands tucked behind her back.

“Are you ready?” she whispered. Hansel giggled and clapped.

“Hmmm!”

With a smile, Hanara summoned a ribbon of blue flame into her hand and swept it gracefully to the side. She stepped back, spun low, then raised her arm in a swirl of light above her head. The flames shimmered in Hansel’s spring-green eyes.

Hanara leaned back to meet his gaze with a grin, then twirled again, spinning both her body and the fire around her like a dance. Hansel clapped cheerfully and tried to step forward. Hanara saw his tiny steps and slowly came to a stop, sending the last of her flames soaring upward before scooping him into her arms. She spun around with him once more, laughter ringing from them both. Eliana chuckled warmly.

“Hanara Enya Fintan-Solares,” she said with a soft smile, “be gentle with your baby brother.”

Hanara giggled and slowed to a stop, placing Hansel carefully on his feet and holding his hand.

“Yes, Mother Queen Eliana,” she said with an exaggerated bow. Eliana reached her arms toward them. Hanara glanced down to make sure Hansel wasn’t dizzy. He giggled, and she released his hand. Hansel trotted toward Eliana with small claps, laughter still bubbling from him.

“Come here, my baby girl,” Eliana said to Hanara. Hanara smiled at her and ran to hug her.

“Can we walk by the lake later, Mother?” Hanara asked. Eliana smiled at her and held her tightly.

Elise, the maid, hurried into the garden, pressing a hand to her chest as she lowered her gaze. Hanara sensed the weight of the news—she grasped Hansel’s hand tightly and sank to the ground beside him.

“Your Majesty,” Elise said, her voice steady despite the urgency, “Knights from the Dragon Empire have arrived. They request an audience.”

Eliana’s smile vanished, her eyes narrowing into a cold glare as she fixed Elise with a piercing look. “Who leads them?”

“Tait Einsen Lesingbard, the First Prince of the Dragon Empire,” Elise answered softly.

A faint, knowing smirk flickered on Eliana’s lips, but her gaze remained on her children, whose carefree laughter now seemed to veil a sharper resolve. Hanara toyed nervously with Hansel’s fingers.

What are they plotting now? Would the command of a mere Crowned Prince truly threaten the clan? Eliana’s mind churned with suspicion and caution.

Far beyond the walls of the Phoenix Clan’s palace, a spring meadow thrived—serene and untouched—quietly defying the shadow of war inching closer.

In a world where winter has slipped into the shadows, the meadow stands reborn in radiant spring. Sunlight spills across the grass, turning every blade into a shard of emerald light. A warm breeze glides through like a silent conductor, coaxing waves of green into a soft, swaying dance. It is a place where renewal hums in the air, where beauty doesn’t shout but whispers—fleeting, fragile, and alive. Here, the world feels briefly weightless, as if time itself pauses to breathe.

“Uncle, I thought Phoenixes are just birds that stay in their own nest… They wouldn’t be a threat to us, Dragons…” Zilant Lesingbard, a 9-year-old boy, asked. The commander, Tait Einsen, smiled at him and patted his head.

“I am just following orders… I cannot disobey the Emperor…”

“But he’s your father… Shouldn’t you reason with him?”

“The world isn’t as kind as we’d like, Zilant. He may be my father, but he’s still the Emperor. When he gives an order, even I must obey.”

“But Uncle… they’re just kids like me. Why take them away?” Zilant frowned. Tait paused, bending down, and smiled.

“You have a good heart like your mother… I’m glad to have you as my nephew…” Tait praised. Zilant sighed in frustration, fiddling with his fingers, tapping his foot.

“Uncle… Why are the phoenix’s flames so strong compared to the dragon’s breath?”

“I’m not sure… Phoenixes can be explosive if they choose to do so… They can wipe out a whole army… Yet, they can also heal. Their healing power is what your grandpa is aiming for to begin with… There was a rumor that someone in the Phoenix Clan had finally been born with the healing power,” Tait explained. Zilant looked up and kept walking with Tait, his small hands clenched. He didn’t understand why a fire that could heal had to be stolen with blood.

When the Dragon knights arrived at the gates of the Phoenix Clan, they waited. And waited. No one came to greet them. Tait stood still, unbothered, his patience unmoving. A knight beside him started getting frustrated and groaned.

“Those damn birds will get it soon…” he mumbled. Tait narrowed his eyes and turned to that knight.

“Silence. These people are still respectable,” Tait commanded. The knight gulped and bowed apologetically.

“Yes, commander,” he responded quickly. Tait turned back to stare at the gates. He could see a group of people from afar, walking towards the gate. Eliana and Felix—Queen and King of the Phoenix Clan—approached, solemn and unyielding. The gate opened, and Felix and Eliana stood with their people behind them, refusing to let their leaders fight alone. Tait walked forward with Zilant on his arm.

“Who dares to enter the Phoenix Clan?” a Square questioned. Tait put Zilant down and bowed in a curtsy.

“Tait Lesingbard, Commander of the Dragon’s Snow Knight. I’ve come with the order of the Emperor of the Dragon Empire. Your son will be educated by the finest tutors in the empire, to one day rule wisely under Heaven’s will,” Tait replied.

The Phoenix Clan people gasped in shock and anger. Eliana glared at Tait, clenching her fists. Her father had died for the clan, and now they came for her son. Her breath trembled, rage burning just beneath her skin. Felix held her hand before stepping forward.

“How bold of the Dragon Emperor to think he can take my son,” Felix responded.

“Our prince needs no schooling from a Dragon’s leash!”

“We will not surrender our heir to foreign hands!”

“The prince of Phoenix bows to no empire!”

“That’s just ridiculous!”

Tait lowered his head once more.

“I speak only on behalf of the Emperor,” he responded. Felix met their gaze, sharp and unwavering.

“Messenger or not, you are your father’s first son. Would you accept it if I came demanding your brother for ‘education’? Or that boy behind you?” Felix said coldly. Tait tightened his jaw as his gaze flicked briefly to Felix for daring to threaten him with Zilant. Zilant trembled, the tension in the air thick and sharp. He stepped forward and bowed respectfully.

“Zilan-”

“If anything… I’ll protect your son when we’re in the Dragon Empire. I promise. I do not wish any harm on anyone,” he said gently. Felix and Eliana were shocked to see a child so young, claiming to protect a stranger. Eliana’s anger softened a little. She stepped forward and patted Felix’s shoulder.

“And why would you speak so confidently?” she asked curiously. Zilant looked up at her. Her eyes were shimmering blue like the water, with green as spring.

I’ve never seen such eyes before.

“I… I only wished for peace. Anger, resentment, and war are too much. It only brings pain and agony… In order to break free from this, it’s up to us to forgive and be happy,” Zilant answered. Hearing these words from a child shattered Eliana.

How could someone so young speak with such clarity, such wisdom that none of the adults here could muster? What had he lived through to make these words sound not rehearsed, but earned, like a mantra he clung to just to stand tall?

Eliana couldn’t retort against a child because what kind of ruler argues with a child? She let out a heavy sigh and looked at Tait.

“Who could this child be? He doesn’t resemble the Lesingbard that much,” she questioned out of curiosity. Tait was confused and blinked.

“This child is my nephew. My younger brother’s second son, Zilant Aislin Lesingbard,” Tait answered. Eliana then looked at Zilant’s eyes–as blue as a frozen sea beneath winter sun, silent, cold, and luminous. She softly smiled at him.

“Let them in and guide them to their stay,” she commanded. The Phoenix people were confused, utterly shocked to hear this. However, they didn’t speak a word against her order. They bowed and stepped in front of them.

“This way,” a Square said. Tait was surprised, but he followed anyway. Zilant gave way for them to enter the Phoenix Clan, the place where no one entered freely, especially with weapons.

After a day of rest and hospitality, Zilant wandered around the palace. He walked alone without a servant or an escort. He suddenly stopped. Something brushed against his awareness — an aura so gentle, it felt like floating underwater, breathing with ease. He searched around to see the user. He ran, peeking frantically into the garden, the buildings… until he found the river.

Hanara. Her light blue hair twirled in a circle with a blue ribbon trailing after her hands. Her giggles echoed near the river. Zilant was captivated by the dance and the aura surrounding her. He crept closer, breath shallow.

Snap.

A twig.

Hanara froze. Then, in a blink, her ruby eyes blazed, and a stream of blue fire scorched the space in front of him. Zilant flinched back, eyes fixed on the flame.

Blue fire? He blinked, stunned. That gentle aura… came from her? He straightened slowly, hands raised.

“Wait! I’m just lost!” he called out, urgency tightening his voice. She narrowed her eyes and marched toward him, hands on her waist like a scolding queen.

“Who are you? Why are you sneaking around?” she asked. Zilant froze, captivated by her ruby gaze.

“I… I came with my uncle… But I couldn’t find him. So I wandered off,” Zilant answered. She let out a big sigh.

“If you’re a guest at the palace, you should stay in your chamber. If you keep wandering around, who knows what will happen to you? The guards might even arrest you for trespassing,” she said, gentler this time. Zilant nodded instantly.

“I see… I…” he paused. Hanara slowly reached her hand to him. Zilant stared at her, then at her hand.

“Get up. You’ll get your clothes dirty if you stay there,” she said. Zilant smiled at her and reached for her hand. She pulled him up. He cleaned the dirt off his pants.

“Thank you,” he replied. Hanara scratched her head, looking away.

“I’m sorry… I acted without considering that I could hurt you,” she said, avoiding looking at him. Zilant froze and stared at her, blushing with embarrassment. He smiled more.

“You didn’t mean to do it. No need for an apology,” he responded. She felt awkward and turned away. She pointed to the right of the river.

“If you’re looking for people from the Dragon Empire, they’re there,” she said, giving him a tip. Zilant looked to his right and was amazed.

“Thank you! How did you know that I was looking for them?” he asked curiously. She frowned, his question making her feel underestimated. She turned to him.

“Your clothes. It’s definitely not the clothes we wear,” she claimed, pointing at his clothes. Zilant paused, then glanced at her clothes. He nodded as he looked at her eyes, blushing.

“You’re right!” he replied, smiling, scratching his neck. Hanara turned away and walked to grab her bag by the river. She returned and looked at him.

“Good luck,” she mumbled before she walked past him. Zilant watched her go, heart still beating fast. He’d never met anyone like her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 🪶 🔥 Princess, Don’t Waver ❄️ 🐉 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~