Sara grips the worn leather straps of her backpack, hoping to distract herself from the anxious ball of lead sinking in her stomach. She's had the pack since she was old enough to carry it. It went everywhere with her. With it and Charcoal she explored every inch of the forest.

Even now, despite the path being a bit overgrown, she knew it led home. But she can't go back, that's what her mom said. Her heart aches with each step and Charcoal’s whimpers behind her isn't helping.

The trees may be familiar but the company isn't. Moira and Eclipse bicker as they push through the overgrowth. Sometimes it’s a whisper, sometimes they argue, but it always returns to the same central problem. Her.

Eclipse, the logical one, reminds her of her mom. He states isn't a babysitter and adds that their life is too dangerous to include her. He doesn't sound angry when he talks about her; but reminds her of her mom when she's presenting facts to her dad. He does sound angry when Moira says she didn't have a choice. Despite his attempts to get her to explain, the mage shuts down and the argument circles around again.

Moira reminds her of her dad. At times she catches the Mage smile at colourful birds or cute forest critters as they pass. She acts tough, like her dad does when he settles village issues. But she feels there's a big heart beneath the attitude.

When she counters Eclipse's questions, it's usually with 'she's not that helpless' or "don't worry she's a quick learner." Her heart always stops when Moira throws: "we'll let's leave her here then. That rock looks nice." Then she holds her breath for the eternity before Eclipse calls her childish before storming off.

She doesn't know what to think of them yet. Her mom told her to be patient with them. But patience is one lesson she never got the hang of. What if they do leave her behind on some mossy rock?

"Moira, that is absurd. I refuse to continue this line of questioning until you act like an adult for the first time in your life." Then she watch’s Eclipse's black tail vanish is the shady path ahead.

"Are you really gonna leave me on some rock when I'm not looking?" She keeps her lip from trembling. She can’t return without her parents being mad. And who knows what lies beyond the border. What will she do, live in the trees with the squirrels?

"Don't worry, I say that because he’s being a jerk. I'm afraid you're stuck with us for the time being. This might be odd, but do you know the aunt we're taking you too? Your mom didn't tell me."

"Daddy gave me a letter with the address. It's in my bag if you want—"

“It's okay, leave it there. Tell us when we get to Alexandria. Have you met her before? Your aunt I mean.”

“Once. But it was a while ago." She didn't like her aunt. She met her when she was little and that night dad and her fought like cats and dogs. Even her mom yelled. She never wanted to see her again.

She glances at Charcoal who walks beside her. His head anxiously looking behind them. His eyes say it all. He wants to go home. She can't blame him; she wishes they could too. Her first adventure and it's to her wicked aunt.

I’m finally having an adventure, but why am I sad? It was the expression on her parents faces as she left. Something about the way they smiled seemed forced. Her gut told her they knew something she didn’t. Her mother’s final hug was tight and warm. Her scent of cloves and roses sticks to her nostrils.

Her father squeezed her in his tight papa bear hug; her cheek still burns from his prickly chin. Charcoal whimpers, again. He rubs his snout against her leg telling her to take him home, but her mother insists they stay with Moira. She recalls her final message whispered in her ear: ‘My beautiful daughter, be a good girl, be brave, we’ll always love you.’

“Is she crying?” Eclipse huffs from the shadows. Her cheeks burn but the whimpering isn’t her. The snorting and wail like roar are a sound of a distressed dragon.

“It’s not her. Is he alright?” Moira asks and approaches with caution. Charcoal snaps and slaps his tail against the ground.

“It’s okay boy,” she rubs his snout and cheeks. It works and she hums a song Littlest Leaf Like her father taught her. She doesn't know the words, only the soothing melody. Either way Charcoal always liked it. “Don’t worry we’ll see them again.”

“Is he homesick?” Eclipse mutters, “this is pathetic on all accounts.”

“Will you give it up,” Moira hisses, “you’re not helping.” Their arguing sends the dragon off into another tantrum. Louder than before, and he thrashes around the base of a tree.

“Sara deal with this, it is your dragon after all.”

She knows Charcoal won’t quit until he gets his way. She reaches into her pocket and presents the goldenrod marble to Moira; her father’s final gift. She read about it in his old journals and even admired it from its prominent place on his shelf in the study. The way the afternoon sun caught it seemed to make it glow.

The inside swirled like hot iron; she never saw anything like it. Last night they had a ceremony; with her, her father, and the elders. They went over the special incantation, made sure she memorized it. Unlike her father, the elders were against writing their history down. Next, they explained how it worked.

They told her their ancestors used it to protect their colonies from hunters. Keep it close, they made her promise. She didn't plan on letting it out of her sight. She felt it's importance as she held it. She was a keeper of an ancient tradition and she planned to take it seriously.

“It’s called a Dragon’s Eye;" she explained. She read her father's notes hundreds of times. Even if she struggled with the details, she knew the concept. "He goes in and comes out anytime I want.”

Her hand trembles as she thinks about it. He's been at her side since he hatched. What if she said it wrong and he couldn't come out again? Don't think like that. You're a big girl now. You can do it. Recalling her father’s instructions, she lays her empty hand on Charcoal’s head. His eyes gleam as he anticipates what happens next. Placing a gentle kiss on his head she whispers the incantation:

“Fly forth to where moments replace eternity.

Trade-in this realm to dance among the clouds—where you live above human cruelty.

For me to follow isn’t allowed and from here on you and I exist separately.”

A bright light engulfs the dragon, when it recedes Charcoal vanishes from existence.

“Is he okay in there?” Moira asks, staring at the black swirl at the marble’s center.

“It doesn’t hurt, and he stays safe and cozy,” she hands it to Moira for inspection.

“But there’s a catch; time's different in there, the longer he stays the faster he grows up.”

“He grows while inside? This magic must be older than mine,” she muses as she studies it. Turning it over in the sunlight, her eyes widen as the center swirls. “I can feel it pulse through the glass.” The Mage returns it to her and she slips it into her pocket. She didn't think people outside her village could feel the magic in the marble. Maybe Tamers and Mages weren't so different.

“It’s my first time using it." the blush creeps over her face. But her embarrassment grows when her eyes meet Moira’s. "I studied everything Daddy had. He gave me some of his journals. I know you might not think so, but I do know stuff."

“We understand,” she replies, “we also know you’re still learning. I don’t know everything about my magic, and despite what Eclipse thinks, neither does he. We’ll figure out stuff together, okay?” She nods and accepts the Mage’s hand as they follow the panther’s footprints along the path. She didn’t like to admit that the trip is quieter without her dragon. Although she didn’t know why was so disruptive when the Mage was nearby.

"Do you hate dragons?"

"Where I come from, our scholars say dragons are extinct. So, unlike you I don’t know how to act around them. And I'm not entirely sure if it's whether I dislike them or they dislike me. They are definitely not a good omen that's for sure."

"Because I’m bad luck and ruined your plans?”

"I was referring to how a bite to my arm escalated to confrontations between Hayden and Brimstone. You haven’t ruined any plans, so don’t worry about that."

"Maybe it's just Ebony Dragons, they're a bit rough around the edges. We should find you a little dragon, ones that fits in a pocket or something. I'm sure there's a dragon out there for you somewhere."

Moira chuckles at the thought of a dragon in her cloak pocket. Together they discuss names and different snacks they’ll feed him. Through the brush they follow Eclipse, the late afternoon sun glistens over his fur. He grumbles as they joke, quickening his pace until he’s out of sight. Moira peeks around the area but Sara points to a black slinky tail swinging in the branches.

“Eclipse, what do you see?”

“Footprints.”

“Another traveler?” But Sara can’t wait for an answer; her curiosity is bubbling in her limbs. She can’t climb as fast as he can, but she pushes past Moira and rummages through the bushes. Pushing against the tangle of twigs she breaks through. Tripping over her feet and lands on her knees in the soft soil. She counts the set of hoofprints racing through the paths.

“Horses,” he leaps from the branch and sniffs the tracks, “sweat, armour... smells like soldiers.” She follows his stare, if they continue straight, they’ll reach her home. But why are soldiers travelling to her village? She glances to Moira, who bites her lip as she assesses the tracks.

“What are the chances...” she taps her fingers on her staff, “…Sara, do you know a short cut back?” She nods, of course she does. “Take us back.”

She slips through lesser-known trails following the sun’s path home. The nagging in her heart digs deeper in her chest. She didn’t like the Mage’s expression. Even Eclipse, who complained all day they aren’t going fast enough, is willing to back track. He doesn’t mumble about ‘wasting time.’ And that scares her.

Moira struggles to keep up, she’s too tall for the low hanging branches. Eclipse races pass her and slips under berry vines growing over the earth. Her lungs hurt as she forces herself to keep pace but he stops abruptly and sniffs the air.

“I smell fire.” Her feet dead stop as she watches the twisting black plumes float above the tree line. Moira catches up, and notices what they’re staring at.

“Moira!” she calls, “I see smoke!”

“Anything but that…”

Every fiber in her body tells her to run. A gnawing feeling in her gut tells her something is wrong. She can’t shake the voice in her head; not until she sees for herself. Her feet move on their own; over uneven trails around rocks and ducking under the low growing branches. The trail snakes around a hill but she doesn’t have the time.

Digging her fingers into the grass and dirt she claws her way up the hillside. Her feet fumble but she refuses to give in to the exhaustion. Her heart slams in her chest as she crests the grassy top, the smoke billowing above her. They need to be okay. Please be okay.

The leaves ahead of her vanish into a wall of grey smoke which sticks to her throat. Faint screams drift through the haze. Eclipse brushes against her, matching her stride. The smoke stings her eyes, but he offers his tail and he guides her through the remaining brush.

She pauses at thick branches blocking their way. Pulling it aside with a shaking hand, it reveals the burning valley she called home. Flames dance; licking the darkening sky as smoke funnels blanket the emerging stars.

“Mommy! Daddy!” she races over the hill, but her legs buckle, sending her rolling.

The abruptness of the stop slams her against the ground. The world around her spins; dirt scrapes her skin as her tears water the grass. The shrieking fades, but a heavy snapping replaces the horrible sound. She doesn’t need to see it to know the buildings are tumbling into the mouth of the wildfire. Homes become tombs as her family and friends burn.

“Who commits such an atrocity?” Eclipse asks but Moira trembles; spellbound by the flames. The fear racking over her body reflects in Moira’s eyes. She sees the fire glow across the opal’s surface. She feels helpless, but the Mage isn’t. Why is she scared? It’s not her home or her family?

“Do something!” but the Mage is silent. She springs to her feet, tugging on her cloak, “help them, please! Use your magic, put out the fire!”

“Sara I can’t. It's—”

“No! You can— but you won’t! You’re supposed to save them! You’re the Mage!” Her tiny fists yank her pigtails; wave over wave of anger crashes over her body. “If you won’t save them I will!”

“Moira, snap out of it!” He yells but she’s racing down the hill. She can’t see well but she knows the path will lead her to the edge of houses beside the fountain. Then it’s a left and she goes straight to the manor. Its crystal clear in her mind, all she needs is to get to the trees. A shadow rushes over head before Eclipse lands and blocks her path.

“Get out of the way!”

“I refuse to allow you to yourself.” She doesn’t care. They need her, and she needs them. She shoves him but he doesn’t budge.

“It’s too dangerous,” Moira approaches her like a huntress approaches a wounded stag.

“Leave me alone!”

“Sara, listen to me—”

“No!” she tosses her body to fight her grasp. She’s so close. The screams aren’t silent, she’s running out of time. Tears well in her eyes, as the helpless washes over her.

“Stop! No matter what I do I can’t save them. We’re too late— they’re already gone. I’m sorry.”

“Too late?” Gone? The words swirl in her mind as her chest heaves. Heavy sobs rack her body, No. It can’t be, they’re not. They’re there—they’re waiting for me. Her throat tightens and the words come out in gargle sounds. She’s wrong. She must be.

“I’m so so sorry Sara. But it’ll be okay, I promise.” Moira surveys the burning valley, “Eclipse, take her somewhere dry.”

He nudges her towards a hollow hill with exposed tree roots. Her body trembles with each tentative step, whispering her abandonment. Each breath reminds her she’s exposed. She sits, as he directs, under the canopy of dirt. She pulls her knees to her chest and hard roots prod her back as she tries to occupy as little space as possible.

The world seems larger, empty, and more dangerous than before. He sprawls at her feet; his warmth invites her to lay her head against him. The smooth fur calls for her fingers and she weave them through the blackness while listening to his heartbeat.

Beyond the canopy, tiny raindrops hit the dirt, soon the dark sky unleashes all her pain on the plants around her. Droplets hit his fur as her tears rolled off his back onto the dead leaves. Her sleepy eyelids shoot open as quivering roots jolt her awake.

“Hush little one,” he whispers, “you are safe here.” Moira’s soaking wet form jumps from the top of the shelter and weaves branches into the canopy. A grim exhausted expression marks her face but Sara gives in to her body’s demand; allowing the rain to lull her into a nightmarish slumber.

She passes through the field of ash as the sun rises over the mountains. Her feet float over the rubble as she drifts through the familiar streets. She squeezes the marble in her pocket reminding herself to keep her eyes on the dirt. Above her, on impromptu stakes, hang charred bodies which crack as their limbs fall beside her.

Bodies with their skin sucked to their bones litter her family’s storehouse. Her fingers shift through the frail grey dust. Instead of remembering happier days making sandcastles, she seeks the truth; a sign to settle the nagging feeling worming at her heart.

A delicate clinking of a chain breaks her last hope; her frail fingers pull her father’s pocket watch from the ash. Trembling, she brushes the tarnished surface; her world, like the watch’s ticking hands, stopped. They really are gone forever.

She finds Moira pulling a blackened body from the broken fountain onto the road. The silence chills her and urges her to run. Instead, she stares as the Mage whispers a prayer over the body. Maybe she does care. She tiptoes closer as Eclipse drags a broken sword to his Mage.

“It can’t be,” she rubs the soot from the handle revealing a white gold and ivory handle, “this sword is from a Bellaverian soldier. These people didn’t stand a chance.”

“There is evidence of fighting near the storehouse.”

“They were overpowered, outmatched, and out skilled. Why attack a disadvantaged village?”

“To prove a point?”

“Some point.” She kicks the dirt. They don’t notice her and she spies Eclipse push his head into her hand. “Hey kiddo,” Moira wears a sympathetic smile, “are you ready?” Sara nods and Eclipse lets her pat his head.

“I hate to ask this, but what about your father’s dragons? Are they safe?”

“They only listen to Daddy’s flute. Without it or him they’ll attack anyone who comes for them.”

“Did you find any evidence of the flute near the storehouse?” He asks.

“There’s lots of broken glass around. Daddy probably smashed it to protect the dragons.” She squeezes the marble in her pocket, “I wanted to play in these trees forever.”

“You’ll return one day,” she smiles. But no matter how much time passes, how much the forest grows around it; nothing will change what happened here. Her home is gone. Even if she rebuilt it, it won’t be the same. Nothing will be the same again.

“I don’t know if I can do this by myself. I’m not strong or smart like you two.”

“But you’re brave, and one day you’ll be stronger and smarter than both of us.” As they leave, she keeps thinking of their conversations about her mom’s ‘strange request.’ But now she knows why she insisted she leave. To stay in Alexanderia and not return. Her mom knew there wouldn’t be anything to return too. Her heart hurts, its heavy and she never felt like this before.

“Do you still think... my Mommy’s crazy?” There’s a pause before Moira speaks, then:

“No,” she squeezes her hand, “she loves you very much.”