Chapter 1: The First Day

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In the deep, dark night, Unos was flying west. The city called The Safe Place was far behind her, now, and the dark, cold waters of the sea were far below. The land called Maris lay at the other side, waiting for her, promising help and hope.

Her escape from the city had been simple, but daring. Human soldiers hadn't been patrolling the city's great wall that night. Monsters like men had been there instead, firing all manner of sharp, flaming weapons into a cloud of loosed grach wheeling over the city. Unos had feared dearly for Dollosus, her mate, who had insisted on joining their own kind while she took their only young to safety. She had flown over the wall, refusing to look back, even when the monsters had shouted in surprise and launched their weapons after her. None had made their mark, and she had escaped.

Rebel, the pup in her jaws, had squawked and trilled in excitement for the first part of the journey. She had liked to be so high in the air for the first time, and awed by her mother's fearlessness. She had peeped curiously, as well, asking where her father was and why he wasn't with them. With a heavy heart, Unos had commanded her baby not to ask such things anymore, and to just trust her. Rebel had been silent ever since, afraid that her mother was angry with her, and confused by all that had happened.

It had been a long time since Unos had made this journey. Small Star hadn't been born then; Red One and Sun Skin, her parents, hadn't even been married yet. But Unos had met them in those days long ago, and they had taken her away from her old life. They had brought her and her own people to a new, good place, where they had become free. The Lord of Earth had welcomed them in his land. Her dear ones were happy. She had never forgotten any of this, or all she owed them.

She remembered it today more than ever before. Far away in the Arin lands, Red One was a Titan now, great with deep magic. But his mate and his young were in terrible danger, and there was no easy way for him to reach them. He needed a miracle as desperately as they did.

Unos hadn't liked to leave her family to the unknown, but she had known what had to be done. Her mate had simply told her to find a place where she and their pup might remain alive. She had decided for herself that instead, she would return to her old home in the mountain's shadow. She needed help. Red One needed help. They would help each other, as they had from the day they met.

And so it was that Unos made the journey from the Zebak lands to the Arin lands once again, carrying less and yet so much more than she had before, not realizing that she was just the miracle her whole family was longing for.

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Below the palace of the Dragon Lord, in the heart of the Central Dungeon, Star was clinging to her mother in despair. Somehow, she had slept in the long hours of the night, exhausted from fear and weeping. She had woken some time ago, with no way of knowing how much time had passed; but she had felt empty and numb, without even the strength to cry again.

The rest of squadron C-57 languished in the cells around her, all of their heads bowed in thought and sadness. Star wondered what each of them was thinking. She wondered how many of them had bothered thinking or hoping for escape. She had visited these very cells once before, not long ago at all, and she knew very well that it was no easy feat.

She and her friends had always planned to return, someday, to free the prisoners they had been forced to leave behind that fateful night. Certainly, they hadn't planned for it to be this way. And there were suddenly so many more prisoners – all the legions of Central Control had been shoved into the dungeon over night. A successful rescue would be all but impossible, now.

Star heaved a heavy sigh, and it felt as though her heart was being torn in half. She had never known despair so aching and terrible, though little of it was for herself. Thoughts of the city she now called her own tormented her, as she pictured its building burning, its streets crawling with guards in gray uniforms, and its people cowering in fear. Memories of the boy she loved haunted her waking as they had her sleeping.

Zan had been whisked away before her eyes by means of dark magic, to take a punishment that had been meant for her. That terrible magic had banished him to the wastes beyond the city wall, to suffer and die in the way Central Control was taught from babyhood to fear most. Star's heart was broken over the loss of her dearest friend, but she was far too loyal to give up over that. She had promised him before that even if the worst happened, she would be strong and carry on, that all his hard work wouldn't be in vain. Even now, where her heartache and famously short temper met, a growing desire for vengeance was boiling in her belly.

But those memories brought shame, as well. Only Star and Zan had known, when he had vanished, that a treasure more precious than gold had been taken with him. In one of his hidden skirt pockets, Zan had carried the Earth Sigil. According to the thing's own will, Star had trusted and obeyed it. And now it was gone. Forever.

Since being shoved into the most heavily guarded cells in the dungeon, Star had told her mother and friends of this far too late. All had been shocked and saddened at how much more they had lost. Zamiel, their leader, was still trapped under a silencing spell and so had been unable to cry out with his men; it hadn't mattered, because the dismay in his face had been crushing enough. He had always felt so personally responsible for Star and her family, and the treasured magic she had carried with her. No doubt, he was at least as ashamed as she was.

But Zeel, her mother, had taken her tear streaked face in her strong hands and smiled as best she could. She had brushed in vain at those tears, insisting that she was proud of her.

"You did the right thing," she had said firmly, taking one of Star's torn, discarded skirts and scrubbing at the layers of her smeared cosmetics. "You listened to the deep magic in your heart, and you followed it, to whatever end. That takes a courage which most never find. I am proud of you, and your father would be, too."

But Star knew better. If her father had been there to see how miserably she had failed, how foolishly she had let the source of his magic out of her sight, she knew that he would be bitterly disappointed in her. She couldn't bear to think of the look on his face if he ever came to know of it. And yet, she wanted to see him again, one last time, more than she wanted to see anyone else. She longed to tell him how sorry she was for all the trouble she had caused him, and to say goodbye at last, and to just see and touch him again.

Perhaps her father would never know exactly what had happened to his family. Perhaps he would live the rest of his life holding fast to the hope that as long as he didn't know, they might still be alive. Perhaps it was better that way…

Her dreary thoughts were broken by the sharp, clacking sound of heels approaching. It was difficult to guess why, but Tiba Barsa came sauntering into the gloomy corridor, vain as always in fine clothes and jewels, just as Star remembered her from the night before. Her stomach lurched with repulsion to see the woman again so soon, but she was too tired and numb to feel anger. She almost didn't care.

No doubt, the traitorous woman had expected some kind of response from the squadron she had foiled so perfectly. She appeared with a smirk on her face, prepared to laugh at the insults and pleas they had for her. To her obvious disappointment, none of them responded. One or two looked up to see who was there, only to look away and ignore her. Self-absorbed as she was, it was truly the most insulting greeting they could give her.

"Good, we're all still here," she sneered, walking along the cells until she found Zamiel. "Have you nothing to say to me, my love? Nothing at all?"

Zamiel kept his gaze pinned on the floor. This was the person who had tricked his brother into betraying him, the whole reason why he and his men had been captured. He had more reasons to hate this woman than most.

"Oh, still so silent?" she teased. "Well, then I'll just have to find someone else to talk to. I've an incredibly pressing need for information, and I'm sure that one of you must have it."

Tiba continued pacing along the cells, peering into each one and glancing over the people inside. She knew none of them personally, and wrinkled her nose with disinterest at each of them. Then she stopped again, enormously interested to find Star and Zeel together.

Star was prepared for more cruel words, more jabs about prophecies and destiny and how she had failed. Instead, Tiba spoke frankly, crisply, and mostly to Zeel. It was as though no one else was there.

"You know, you're not really that pretty. I don't know what the master saw in you, when he's always had me… But no matter. In spite of it all, I think you can help me."

Zeel sighed sharply and dared to glance up at her. "If I answer your questions, will you leave us be?" she demanded.

"I'm afraid my fiancee's little brother gave me a bit of trouble, when last I saw him," Tiba explained. "My new powers and the trap I had set for him worked to perfection, and he gave me all I asked him for – your names, your numbers and weapons, the name of the healer woman who was hiding you. He even told me of the hidden rooms in her home, where you've been creeping around like rats all this time. I was thrilled and released him from my spell, as I said before, and summoned the guards to haul him off with the rest of you."

The squad was already terribly aware of this. Tiba had been using terrible, borrowed magic of her own to bewitch Zaneth, Zamiel's brother, into betraying them. She had ensnared his mind at least twice before, drilling him for information, then erasing his memories of it and replacing them with falseness. On their last meeting, he had been so grieved by what he had done that he had thrown himself from a high window. They all knew they would never see him again.

Tiba had been speaking with triumph in her face and voice. Now, it suddenly darkened, and a flash of fear glinted in her eyes.

"That is all I said in front of my master, of course. However, something else happened. The idiot came to his senses and realized what had been happening between us. He began panicking, and he blurted out some… Things. Things which must have been important to him, if he bothered to mention them. I saw that there was more I could learn from him, and so ordered my guards to hold him still while I worked my will once more. But he slipped out of their grasp and ran for the window. And now I can't get the answers from him."

She stepped closer to the bars and glared at Zeel. "That is where you people come in. Zaneth Garased mentioned several names in his panic – a Vivi, a Zizi, and an Evan, among others. Powerful allies of yours, I'm sure. He also mentioned something about log books, filled with even more names. So, tell me, what does all this mean? Who are your little friends? Where can I find these precious log books? Tell me!"

Zeel considered this revelation slowly, as all the rest of them were. Even Star felt her spirits lift to know the rest of the tragic tale. She saw now what had really happened. Zaneth had played a trick of his own on Tiba, to see just how much knowledge she had stolen from him, and how much more he could keep from her. He had learned that he had only betrayed his friends and family, not the rest of the rebels in the city. And so he had protected that knowledge in the only way he still could – by taking it all to his grave.

Before, Tiba had made his death to sound shameful and pathetic, which would have delighted all her masters. Now that the rebels knew the truth, they could see that he had died bravely, fighting for freedom in his own way. Because of what he had done, countless lives had been spared.

As Zeel thought it all over, she began to laugh without humor. In the other cells, the rest of the squad was snickering, too. Tiba was aghast to be laughed at by these prisoners, raking her eyes over them all in baffled anger.

"You made a mistake," Zeel commented, without answering the question. "A mistake which could cost you a great deal, if it were discovered. You came here to cover your tracks, before your precious master learns of your carelessness and punishes you for it. You would know better than anyone else, how Lord Azan punishes his people."

"That's not true!" Tiba snapped, stamping her foot like a child. "He would never hurt me! I am loyal to his house, and serve him well – unlike you treacherous leeches."

Somewhere in the cells, the voice of Zione barked a laugh. "Then go and tell him the truth, if you are so immune to his wrath, eh? Perhaps he will forgive your carelessness, this one time. Perhaps he will tell you how much he loves you."

The rest of them began to laugh even harder. For sure, Tiba had made promises like those to lure Zaneth away, and planted them in his mind in place of the truth. It was refreshing to see this vile woman brought so low, when she was so cruel and arrogant. Her face was flushed scarlet with anger as she gripped the cell bars and shook them furiously.

"Tell me what you know, Zeel Moakel," she shrieked. "Tell me, right now, or I'll – "

"Or you will what?" Zeel shouted back, rising to stare the younger woman down. Her face was grave, but filled with determination and defiance. "What will you do to make me talk? What do you think I still have that you can take from me?"

"I'll have you beaten," Tiba snarled back. "I'll have all of you beaten, and I'll make you watch. I'll have everyone you've ever cared about killed before your eyes, and you'll have to – "

"All of that is already going to happen," Zeel said calmly. "It has already been decided that I will be made to suffer most of all. Whether it happens sooner or later is of no consequence, and threatening to alter that time will not convince me to change my mind about anything."

On the floor of the cell, Star could almost feel Tiba's blood boiling with rage, disappointment, and feverish fear. No matter what she claimed about her master's favor, she was acutely aware of what would happen if her small mistake turned the tides of the rebellion. In general Azan's mind, the idea of a few names and a few log books might not have seemed like much to worry over; but how could he know who those names belonged to? Warriors? Sages? Strategists? The information Zaneth had carried could have been nothing at all; but now, of all times, it couldn't be risked.

Tiba was desperate to correct her mistake before it came back to bite her. She would have killed them all for the knowledge, except that it clearly wouldn't help her.

Then Star tilted her head curiously, as another thought came to her.

"If you want to know so badly," she pointed out, "why not just ensnare my mother's mind and take what you're looking for? She's standing right in front of you and can hardly get away, and it worked so well for you before. It should be easy for you, with all the practice you've had recently."

Tiba seemed to freeze, gripping the bars of the cell so that her knuckles turned white. The look on her face proved to Star that she had guessed right, after all. It must have stung especially to be called out by the half-bred abomination she had never trusted, because Tiba was silent as stone. She looked as though she had been slapped by her master, himself.

Having heard and seen this for themselves, the rest of the squad quickly understood what it meant, and soon they were laughing at her again.

"Ah, but you can't, can you," Zak guessed from the cell behind her. "Your witchy powers were just on a loan, so you could do your queen a helpful service. Now that you've played your part and served your purpose, its been snatched right back, hasn't it? Ha! You have no power left at all, do you?"

"At least in here, we have each other," added Zara, from one of the further cells. "At least when we die, we will be together. The girl has even less than we do!"

"That is to be pitied," came the wise voice of Zane Ferren. "Our suffering will end soon and in friendship. She will have to languish alone, with no power and no master. Don't bother pitying the happy dead now, friends; pity those who will remain, as she will."

Utterly humiliated as well as furious, Tiba stamped her foot again; then, wailing like a specter, she turned and fled. It was strange to think that she had feelings to be hurt at all, but her heart was plainly aching with fear and anger. For years, she had strutted around the city as if she was someone of real power. Today, she was being brutally reminded that she was still just a slave, and that she meant very little to anybody.

Star glanced down the rows of cells until she spotted Zamiel, and was relieved to see that he was chuckling silently to himself over what had just happened. He knew the truth of why his brother died. He knew that Tiba had been tricked and bitterly used, very much the same as she had tricked and used Zaneth. It wasn't much in the way of revenge, but he was satisfied with it.

It felt incredibly petty to Star, against the fact that those of their family who had escaped would be safe. Of course, Tiba couldn't know that the names she had mentioned belonged to young children with no real power to change anything. Better yet, she had no clue that one of them was Star's baby brother, an abomination in the eyes of the Dragon Lords, who would have also been destroyed in the worst ways out of spite. Star felt a wave of relief flood her heart over that. Perhaps Evan, her brother, would survive somehow, grow into a fine young man, and take up the destiny his sister hadn't been able to handle. Perhaps he was the child of prophecy the Dragon Lord had been so frightened of.

Star looked up at her mother, who was brushing at her clothes and hair as if to shake an illness off herself. Her brows were knitted together in annoyance over their unwanted visitor. Her eye had been blackened during a scuffle in the night. A long, bleeding cut on her leg had been bandaged with one of Star's skirts. Zeel looked exhausted; and though she had spoken confidently of accepting her fate, she was plainly afraid.

It seemed wrong to trouble her with fate and destiny now, but there was no helping it. Star needed to know truths of her own, and these few hours were all the time left she had to hear it. In any case, she suspected the same matter was weighing on her mother's mind, as well.

"Mum," Star said slowly, "the queen and her… companion spoke of a prophecy. Something about a tree, a branch, and a flower. Something to do with me – something dire. Mum, you must know what it's all about."

As she spoke, Zeel's face darkened, suddenly heavy with regret. She shook her head sadly as she sank back to the cold stone floor.

"I need to know, mum," Star went on when her mother remained silent. "I've already failed at whatever I was supposed to do, so you'd may as well tell me now."

Zeel took her hand in her own, frowning slightly at her child's despair. "You haven't failed, Star. You can't fail at something you didn't know to do. Oh…" She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Shaaran never liked it that we kept it from you, even when you were small. She's never cared for secrets, or having to keep them, you know? Your silly father never changed his mind about it; but over the years, I've slowly changed mine. We should have told you long ago."

Star squeezed her mother's hand, impatient with her mumbling. "Should have told me what?" she pleaded. "Mum, please, just tell me! What is this prophecy?"

"It came to us when you were a baby," Zeel explained slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. "The Lord of Earth gave it to your father in person one winter, when he journeyed up the mountain. He said that it had lain asleep and secret for an age, and that the time had come for it to wake."

It was unlike Zeel to hesitate, but she was so tired, and her heart was so heavy for her destined child. It took her a few deep breaths before she could will herself to speak the words that had chased them for so many years.

"In golden fields, Leith plants his seed;
and from his name, there grows a tree.
From tree there comes a branch of might,
of hallowed magic, deep and bright.
And from the branch, there comes a bud
of Earth and Fire, war and love.
Then from the bud will come a rose,
and freedom where so 'ere it goes."

As she listened, Star numbly understood many things. The prophecy itself was simple enough. Leith, the first Chooser of Rin, had indeed settled in what he hadn't known was his homeland, and made a family. The tree of his bloodline had flourished and grown strong since then, and now had many branches. The branch of the prophecy plainly spoke of Rowan, who was a Titan now, who had married a woman who was like Fire in every way.

And so this bud was their child – a child that was as much Zebak as they were Arin, with a heart for both. A child like no other that had ever been born. A person with just the right skills and talents and might it their blood to do incredible, impossible things.

The Dragon Lord had mockingly commented that her ancestors had been watching and waiting for thousands of years for this person to cross their path. They had known of it all along. Such a person had all the power to destroy their secure hold on their people. And then they had taken the Arin prisoner, brought them to toil right there among their people. So, given this dangerous mistake, what had they done? Issued decrees, passed laws, and made sure that hopeful buds just like Star were clipped and destroyed before they cold bloom. Convinced all the Zebak that such people were monstrous abominations that deserved that fate. They had made it so such a person could never survive in the Zebak lands, the one place in all the world where such a person could be born at all.

Clearly, Fate hadn't liked being toyed with so well. Dragon Lords past must have been relieved to see that a slaved called Leith had escaped them on that destined day so long ago, to be lost to a faraway land where his people would never again meet one of their own. They could never have guessed that only a few hundred years later, Fate would bring a Zebak child right where she needed to be, at just the right time, to turn all their hard work upside down.

"Such prophecies are usually impossible to escape from," her father had told her once. "The best a person can do is to delay it uselessly for a time, because the future often decides for itself what it will be, and no one can tell it otherwise. The future is very like you in that way, my Small Star. The two of you will get along fine someday, I think."

Star had been delighted by that idea then, not understanding that he was trying to prepare her for something. Now, she remembered that moment bitterly and bowed her head in sadness. Her future hadn't agreed well with her at all, in the end. She still wasn't sure what it was she was supposed to have done to bring her mother's people the freedom they longed for, and the prophecy was beyond vague about it. She was almost angry that it was so unhelpful. Almost. It seemed more like another blow she didn't have the energy to take.

"Of course, we had no plans to tell you about it until you were older," Zeel went on as Star pondered it all. "Your aunt thought we should have told you as soon as possible, but we feared you might not understand it right away. And you father, bless him, didn't find it fair for you to spend your whole life worrying over it; as you grew and we came to know you, I agreed with him back then."

"But things have changed so much," Star pleaded. "He hasn't even been here to argue with you about it. Why didn't you tell me?"

Zeel shrugged helplessly. "I've thought about it many times since you came to live at Bhlai House. But you had found your place with the rebellion, and were following your destiny so well without knowing it. I had hoped you might never need to know it. I was going to tell you on your birthday, but… You were so busy, and you already had so much on your mind. It seemed wrong to add the burden of a prophecy to that. I, too, have had to listen to the deep magic in my heart, and obey it when it seemed strange. I've only done my best with that; and, like you, I'm afraid now that it wasn't enough."

She bowed her head in shame and guilt, suddenly refusing to look her daughter in the eye. "I've deceived you, Star. I've deceived you all your life, in a vain effort to protect you from something none of us could escape. It was all pointless, and so much could be different right now if I had just told you the truth. If anyone has failed, it is I. Forgive me, my dearest."

It hurt to see her mother so torn over this, as if the whole mess were her fault, alone. Zeel had struggled all her life with feelings of self-loathing because of who she was, and deep, dark fears of what her presence could mean for the people she loved. She had always secretly blamed herself whenever things had gone wrong, and today was no exception. It hurt especially, when Star felt so sure that she was the one responsible for everything that had gone wrong.

It came to her that the people in the cells around her – trusted friends she had come to love like her own family – almost certainly felt just as she did. There was no telling them that they hadn't failed, either; surely, each of them was reflecting on the previous night, thinking of all the small ways they could have done better and perhaps saved the day. Taking a strange comfort in that, Star snuggled close to her mother and held her tight.

"We can be failures together, then," she decided.

Zeel hummed and nodded slowly. "What does it matter, whose fault it all is?" she answered, holding her close. "It won't change things one way or another. We've only ever done our very best; and you know, with what little we had, we did well. At least we tried, Star. Better to try and fail, than to never try at all. Sara used to say that, you know. I wonder if you would quite remember, but I know that Forley does. Those words have shaped his whole life, and everything he's ever done."

Star just sat still and listened quietly, as her mother went on speaking soothingly about pleasant things and beloved memories. She couldn't think of smiling over any of them, as her mother sometimes did; but it was a nice distraction from all the pains in her heart. And it felt right to be thinking of her homeland and her family now, in these last few hours before she died.

All that was left to do was wait for those hours to run out.

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The sun was rising over Habaharan, and the chaos of the long night was slowly quieting down. The vicious gray monsters that had stormed the city streets had done their work with terrifying speed and efficiency; but as the dawn had crept closer and closer, they had begun to creep back, as though the sun might hold a danger for them. Of the hundreds that had ravaged the city all through the night, only a few remained – the strongest and most cruel of them all, unafraid of the light of day, who would patrol the streets and make sure that its people didn't act on any clever ideas they came up with.

Vivi and Zizi were normally brimming with clever ideas. In their minds, such an idea was just what their city needed most. The rebellion had been crushed in the blink of an eye, and Habaharan needed a miracle now more than it ever had before. Vivi had a few thoughts, herself; but all the people who could have put them into action had been captured, and she couldn't risk being caught sneaking back into the sewers. The whole city was still wailing for its dead. She couldn't bear to force her brother to join them in that.

The brother and sister had slunk from their hiding place under the stairs and back to the hidden rooms of the third floor of Bhlai House. They now found themselves surrounded by a mess, left behind by the monsters who had invaded in the night; but they also had a pile of treasures to guard. The moonstone and ruby magicites and been thrown on the floor in front of the stairs; according to Zizi, the monsters hadn't been able to touch them, and so had left them behind. Seeing no use for another sword, they had left Alanis' lying there, too. All their friends' most treasured weapons had been spared.

More precious than any of those things, Vivi had Evan clutched to her chest, as she paced around the room to keep him calm. The toddler had woken some time ago from a drugged sleep, and Zeel had left them more myrmon to keep him that way, but neither child had wanted to use it. It seemed so awful, in the wake of all that had happened. He wasn't even two years old, yet, and his mother and sister were gone. Probably for good, too. If he wanted to cry with the rest of the city for all he had lost, they agreed that he should be able to.

So far, the baby seemed confused, but mostly quiet about it. Through trial and error, Vivi had found that bouncing him on her hip was the best way to soothe him, and so she had been doing this for what felt like hours. Zizi watched in fascination as she went on pacing around, tirelessly bouncing the child, even though he was getting big and her hip must have started to hurt some time ago. She chatted with him casually, hummed little songs, even laughed a bit whenever he babbled back. Her heart plainly wasn't in it – Zizi could see that – but Evan didn't know any better.

She was weirdly good at this, Zizi decided. He also decided that he shouldn't be surprised; she had taken care of him all his life, and had done a pretty good job. Seeing her taking care of such a small baby warmed his heart a little. Only a little, though. His heart was so heavy, and he was so afraid for his friends, and the days to come were going to be difficult and filled with danger. For a moment, he scrunched his eyes shut and wished with all his might that there was something he could do to make things right. But when he opened them again, no great knowledge or easy solution had come to him.

It hardly surprised or disappointed him. He had always been so small and helpless, and his stammering still held him back. He had never really had the power, the courage, or the strength to do much of anything. Dimly, he wondered why he thought this moment should be any different.

His stomach growled a bit, and he wondered what they would do for food in the coming days. Vivi had already scoured the kitchen for something still good to eat, but the monsters had smashed it all beyond use. She had fretted about having to leave the house to search for food. She worried that she might have to beg for it, maybe even steal or pillage it from unattended stalls in the market. If there were stalls left there at all. It was hardly like Vivi to fret about anything, let alone about stealing; it only went to prove how bad things really were.

Zizi glanced over his shoulder, where his sister's satchel had been carelessly tossed by the fireplace. His mind wandered back to the previous evening, when she had taken a chunk of cake with her on an adventure. His stomach growled again as he wondered if any of that cake was left in her bag. Vivi's back was turned, and so she didn't see as her brother scrambled over to her bag and looked inside.

There was no sign of that cake, or any kind of food – but Zizi found something even better. A wondrous crown of silver and gold and precious stones was nestled inside, ethereal against the rough cloth of the bag. Zizi's red eyes went wide at the sight. It was the diadem of the Dragon Lords – the treasure that Vivi had been plotting for months to steal from under the queen's nose.

The heist of a lifetime, she had said. Against all odds, she had succeeded; but in the hours since she had returned, Zizi and Evan had become far more important to her. There had been so much to see to and think of, her own grand adventured hadn't mattered to her anymore. And so she hadn't found the time or presence of mind to tell him that she had it at all.

Zizi forgot his hunger, his heartache, his fears for his city and the days to come. The diadem was the most glorious thing he had ever seen. Or, at least, the polished black stone in its center was. The gems and precious metals could have been done away with, really; beside the black stone, they seemed cheap and out of place, like when Vivi wore all the pieces of her collection over her tattered clothes. The stone enchanted and delighted him as soon as he saw it. For the first time in days, he really smiled. He couldn't help himself.

As he gazed at the stone, he could have sworn he heard a voice. A nice voice, gentle and loving as it was firm and powerful. His heart filled with longing at the sound of it, but also with comfort. Anyone else would have been frightened by its sudden presence in their minds; but Zizi was overjoyed to hear such a wonderful voice, speaking directly to him, calling him by name, and by names he hadn't even known were his.

Zizi… Flame Hart… Child of the light… Zizi…

Without thinking very much about it, Zizi reached into the bag, taking the diadem in his small hands and lifting it out. It was heavier than he had expected, but he held it up to get a better look. Spikes of silver stuck up from the top like spines, and from the bottom like fangs. It looked difficult and uncomfortable to have to wear. Nonetheless, he felt an unexplainable urge to try it on, just to see how impossible it was. Indeed, the thing was too big for his head. With some careful wiggling, he might have been able to wear it around his neck, though the thought of those sharp points biting into his neck and shoulders was unpleasant.

Again, the action took next to no thought. It was as if he were obeying a deep, long forgotten instinct. He lifted the diadem a little higher and, being careful of the spikes, slowly lowered it onto his head.

As he was doing this, Vivi turned around and saw him too late. She called out to him to beware, to put the diadem down before he hurt himself; but the voice was louder and louder in his mind, nearly drowning hers out. Before either of them could stop what was happening, Zizi had put the diadem on his own head, and the great black stone that was the source of his people's magic slid between his eyes.

It felt as though a key had been turned in his mind and unlocked it to a new world. A realm of light and sound and vibrating power. He felt as though he could suddenly see through time and space, to places he could never had thought of on his own. There was a jarring sensation, as though his mind was moving across this plain at enormous speed, searching for something he didn't even know he was looking for.

His consciousness settled as suddenly as it had taken off, and now there were new voices around him. Three voices, like storm winds, thrashing waves, and quaking earth, exclaiming in their own ways at his arrival. And yet, they sounded… Human.

"What in blue blazes?"

"Who is this? What are you doing here?"

"How have you come into our minds? Who are you?"

"Wait. Brothers, wait! Don't you feel it?"

"Oh… Yes… Yes, I do! It is a feeling of Fire! It has been so long, I did not quite…"

"Such a small flame… But it is enough that it is here at all."

Zizi had never heard these voices before, but somewhere deep inside, he knew them. Understanding filled him. Somehow, he had come into a forbidden place, where mere mortals were not supposed to be. He felt his whole being trembling in that storm of confusion, like the feeble, flickering light of a lone candle.

By way of deep magic, he was among the Titans of Water, Earth, and Air.