Lyna’s heart pounded as she stared across the room at Celestia, her chest tightening with a mix of awe and fear. The warm glow of the setting sun bathed the grand estate, casting soft light over Celestia’s form. Her wings, folded neatly behind her, glimmered faintly in the golden light, and her once distant, ethereal eyes now held a flicker of life, as though she was slowly returning to the present.

For months, Lyna had cared for Celestia, nursing her back to health, tending to her, listening to the ancient being’s stories of love, loss, and sacrifice. It had been a slow process, but Lyna felt connected to her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. What started as an act of compassion had turned into something more profound.

Celestia’s voice broke the silence, soft yet carrying the weight of centuries. “You’ve done more for me than anyone ever could,” she said, her words heavy with exhaustion. “I owe you a debt I can never repay.”

A soft tremor passed through Lyna as she listened, her hands resting in her lap, fingers twisting the fabric of her dress. “Repay?” The word felt wrong. She hadn’t spent all this time with Celestia for any kind of reward. She had grown attached to her, to the deep sadness that lingered behind her bright blue eyes, to the unspoken pain of her past.

“If you want to repay me…” Lyna’s voice trembled, her curiosity finally spilling over after all these months. “Tell me about him—your soul bond.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. The question lingered between them like a fragile thread waiting to be pulled. Lyna could feel her heart racing, beating loudly in her ears. For so long, she had wondered about the man Celestia had loved, the man she had lost.

Celestia’s wings shifted slightly, her eyes distant as though she was staring through time itself. “Einar Emberheart,” she whispered, the name carrying both love and sorrow. “He was… more than a warrior. He was the flame that kept our people—the Dragonkins—alive. He fought for them, even when they turned their backs on him, even when they betrayed him.”

Lyna’s stomach twisted as she listened, her heart aching for Celestia. She had expected a grand story of love and bravery, but what she heard was something far more tragic. “He fought for them even after they abandoned him?” Lyna’s voice was soft, disbelief coloring her words.

Celestia nodded, her voice cracking slightly. “He never stopped. Not when he was exiled, not when his body was broken. He fought for them… and for me.”

A tear slipped down Celestia’s cheek, and Lyna instinctively reached out, taking her hand. Her grip was warm, almost too warm, as if the remnants of dragon fire still pulsed through her veins. “You loved him,” Lyna whispered, the weight of those words settling between them like a confession.

Celestia’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “He was my other half. My soul bond. Without him… I’ve never been whole.”

Lyna felt her chest tighten, her throat burning with empathy she hadn’t expected. The depth of Celestia’s grief was palpable, and it was overwhelming. “What happened to him?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Celestia’s gaze dropped, her wings trembling as she struggled to keep her composure. “He died,” she whispered, her voice thick with pain. “He died saving them all. Saving me. And when he left this world… he took a part of me with him.”

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, suffocating. Lyna’s heart ached for Celestia’s loss, for the deep emptiness that must have consumed her after losing someone so deeply intertwined with her soul. “I’m so sorry,” Lyna said softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

Celestia looked up, her blue eyes filled with an intensity that startled Lyna. “There might be a way,” she said softly, her voice almost too quiet to hear. “A way to bring him back.”

Lyna’s breath caught in her throat. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

Celestia hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. “I still have his heart,” she said, the words carrying a strange weight. “It still beats, trapped within an artifact that halts time. If I could find a newborn without mana—untouched by the world’s magic—I could bind his soul to the child. He could return.”

Lyna’s breath caught in her throat. A newborn without mana? It was nearly impossible. Mana flowed through all living beings like blood. But before she could fully grasp the enormity of Celestia’s words, a strange realization began to take root in her heart. The child she carried… untouched, untainted by the world.

…

The months passed, and Lyna’s bond with Celestia grew deeper. Their shared moments were no longer about just survival, but about healing, for both of them. Aeron stood beside her, their connection growing as her child, his child, grew within her. But the weight of her decision hung heavy over her.

Finally, one evening, Lyna stood before Celestia in the estate’s quiet garden, the cool night air pressing against her skin. She placed a hand over her growing belly, feeling the steady pulse of life within her.

“I want you to place Einar’s soul in my child,” Lyna said, her voice steady, though her heart raced.

Celestia recoiled, shock flooding her face. “Lyna, no. You don’t know what you’re offering. The risks… they’re too great. If anything goes wrong…”

Lyna shook her head, determination burning in her eyes. “I trust you, Celestia. I know what Einar was to you. I’ve heard the stories. He deserves a second chance, and… you deserve to be with him again.”

Tears welled in Celestia’s eyes, but she shook her head, her voice trembling. “The child… your child. What if something happens?”

“I’ll protect him,” Lyna said, her voice cracking. “I’ll seal his magic. I’ll give him time to grow, to be safe. He’ll have a normal life until it’s time. I promise.”

Celestia’s resolve wavered, her wings drooping as she gazed at Lyna. For a long moment, the two women stood in silence, the weight of the decision pressing down on both of them. Finally, Celestia nodded, her tears falling silently.

…

The ritual was held deep within the secret chamber of the Forbidden Ruins, the very place where Lyna had found Celestia all those years ago. The air buzzed with ancient magic, the walls glowing faintly with arcane symbols long forgotten by most of the world.

Lyna lay on the cold stone slab, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she felt the power surrounding her. Above her floated the artifact that contained Einar’s heart, pulsing with life—an eerie, rhythmic beat that resonated through the chamber. The magic in the air was thick, almost suffocating, as Celestia chanted the ancient incantations.

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The chamber glowed with a faint blue light, the runes reacting to the powerful magic being invoked. The artifact pulsed faster now, its glow intensifying as Celestia’s voice grew louder, the words of the spell filling the chamber like a song of forgotten times.

As the magic reached its peak, Lyna felt the energy converge around her womb, the pulse of the heart resonating deep within her. Her chest ached, her body trembling under the immense force of the ritual, but she did not flinch.

The artifact that held Einar’s heart flickered one last time before it vanished. The pulse—the heartbeat—merged with her own, disappearing into the life she carried inside. A dark rune symbol formed on her chest, glowing faintly before fading into her skin.

The magic knocked Celestia to her knees, her body trembling from exhaustion. Lyna lay still on the slab, gasping for breath as the weight of what had just happened settled over her.

“Is it done?” Lyna managed to whisper, her voice weak and barely audible.

Celestia, her face pale and streaked with tears, nodded slowly. “It’s done,” she whispered, her voice broken and hoarse.

Lyna pressed a trembling hand to her stomach, feeling the faint pulse of the sealed magic. Relief washed over her, though her body was exhausted beyond measure. “I’ll protect him,” she whispered. “I’ll give him the peace he deserves.”

Celestia crawled to her side, placing a hand gently over Lyna’s abdomen. Her voice was filled with gratitude and sorrow. “Thank you,” she whispered, tears falling freely. “For everything.”

Lyna’s eyes filled with tears, a faint smile breaking through the exhaustion. “We’ve done it. He’ll come back.”

As she closed her eyes, Lyna’s thoughts drifted to the future. To the life now growing within her. To the promise she had made to Celestia—to raise the child in peace, to give him the love and protection he deserved.

But deep down, she knew the world would come for him one day. And when it did, she would be ready.

** **

The doors of the Leonhart estate burst open with a resounding crash, shaking the grand hall as Lord Edwinn stormed in, his face twisted with fury. His heavy steps echoed through the stone chamber, each footfall carrying the weight of his anger. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his eyes, dark with rage, searched the room until they landed on Lyna.

She stood by the window, her back straight but her heart racing. Her hands trembled, though she kept them pressed against her sides, determined not to show weakness. She had known this moment was coming, the second the news of her pregnancy had reached her father. The truth she’d tried to keep hidden—that the child she carried belonged to Aeron, a commoner—was now out.

"Lyna!" Edwinn's voice was thunderous, reverberating off the high ceilings, his tone filled with betrayal and disbelief. "Is it true? You carry the child of a commoner?"

His words were sharp, cutting into her like blades. Lyna flinched but stood her ground, swallowing her fear. Her father’s wrath was expected, but the reality of facing him like this was much worse than she had imagined. She could feel his rage, a deep, simmering anger that only grew as he looked at her.

“Yes, Father,” she said softly, though her voice wavered. She placed a protective hand over her stomach, her body instinctively shielding the life growing inside her. “Aeron’s child.”

Edwinn’s face contorted with disgust, his hands tightening into fists. "You’ve disgraced our bloodline,” he spat. “The Leonharts, descended from dragons, bound by noble blood—and you throw it away for a mere commoner? A bastard child that will stain our family name?"

The air felt thick, oppressive, and Lyna’s chest tightened. Her father’s shadow loomed over her, a force of pure rage. But she couldn’t waver now, not with her child’s life at stake.

“Aeron is not just any man,” she said, her voice shaking but her resolve firm. “He’s brave, and he loves me. He’s saved me more times than you know.”

“Love?” Edwinn scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. “You think love justifies this abomination you carry? This bastard will bring shame to our name—he is a disgrace to the Leonhart legacy, and I will not allow it.”

Lyna felt her pulse quicken, fear clawing at her chest. “Father, please—”

“I’ve made up my mind,” he cut her off, his voice cold and final. “I will end this disgrace before it ruins us.”

Lyna’s heart pounded wildly as she took a step back, her hands pressing harder against her belly. “No!” she cried, her voice breaking. “You can’t!”

The tension in the room was suffocating, her father’s anger like a storm ready to break. But before either of them could say another word, a calm voice sliced through the air like a blade.

“Get away from her.”

Celestia stepped forward from the shadows, her presence immediately shifting the atmosphere in the room. She was quiet, composed, but the power that radiated from her was undeniable. Her pale blue eyes locked onto Edwinn’s with a cold, unwavering stare.

Edwinn turned sharply, his eyes narrowing at the sight of her. “You,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “You have no right to interfere in this.”

Celestia’s expression didn’t change as she stepped forward, her presence commanding the room. “I have every right,” she said, her voice calm but filled with an ancient authority. “You will not harm this child, nor Aeron.”

Edwinn scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re nothing to this family, nothing but a stranger meddling in affairs that don’t concern you.”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed, and as she spoke, her voice darkened, becoming heavier with each word. “You speak of family,” she said, “but you forget who I am. I am Celestia Emberheart, and the child your daughter carries is bound to my destiny. You cling to bloodlines and nobility, but these are human concerns. To me, they are meaningless.”

For a moment, Edwinn hesitated, the authority in her words cutting through his anger. But pride quickly filled the gap, and he sneered. “You dare lecture me about bloodlines? The Leonharts are descended from dragons—we hold the ancient fire in our veins. You’re nothing but an outsider, a wanderer.”

A faint smile tugged at Celestia’s lips. “Outsider?” she repeated, her voice low and ominous. “No, Edwinn Leonhart. I am far more than that.”

The air around her seemed to thicken, the energy in the room shifting as her presence grew more intense. Slowly, Celestia’s golden hair began to shimmer, catching the light in a way that seemed almost unnatural. Her wings, which had been hidden until now, unfurled behind her, majestic and gleaming with an otherworldly light. The power in the room surged as her form began to change—horns slowly emerging from her head, her eyes glowing with a fierce, radiant light.

Edwinn took a step back, his face draining of color as he stared at her in shock. “You... you’re a...”

“A dragon,” Celestia finished for him, her voice now thunderous and overwhelming. “A Pure-Blooded Dragon, the very kind your family claims to descend from. But you—" her eyes blazed with intensity—"you are bound by your pride. Your arrogance blinds you.”

Lyna watched, wide-eyed, as her father—a man who had always seemed unshakable, unbreakable—stumbled back in fear. The realization of who Celestia truly was, of the power she held, had shattered the last of his bravado.

Edwinn’s voice trembled as he spoke, his pride and fury now replaced by uncertainty. “This... this can’t be...”

Celestia’s wings flared behind her, casting long, dark shadows across the hall. Her voice grew even colder. “You seek to destroy what you do not understand. This child is not just your grandchild. He carries within him an ancient power—power far beyond your comprehension.”

The room seemed to pulse with her energy, the weight of her presence pressing down on everyone within. Edwinn’s knees buckled, and for the first time in his life, he knelt, trembling in the face of something far greater than himself.

Lyna, her heart pounding in her chest, stepped forward, tears brimming in her eyes. She looked at her father, her voice soft but filled with resolve. “I never meant to betray you, Father. But Aeron and I... we love each other, and this child is a part of that love. Can’t you see that?”

Edwinn’s gaze shifted to his daughter, and for the first time since he had stormed into the room, his expression softened. His eyes, once filled with rage, now held a deep sorrow. “I... I just wanted to protect you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Lyna reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Father. But you don’t need to protect me from love.”

Behind them, Celestia watched in silence, her form slowly returning to its human guise. The tension that had gripped the room eased, leaving a fragile peace in its place. But before she turned to leave, she cast one last glance at Edwinn, her voice quiet but filled with warning.

“This child will change the world,” she said. “Whether he saves it or destroys it... will depend on the love and guidance you all offer him.”

With that, Celestia disappeared into the shadows, leaving Lyna and her father standing in the aftermath. Edwinn looked at his daughter, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on him. He had tried to hold on to his pride, but in the end, it was love that had broken through.

And for the first time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—there was a future in the love that bound them all.