It Never Ends

It Never Ends
The years that followed were a whirlwind of rebuilding, of laughter, and of a fragile, hard-won peace. Talos healed, its magic returning stronger than before, its people thriving under our rule. We were a family, fiercely united. Adrik, Akon, Ashton, and Ayden, my kings, doted on our children, their love a constant, warm presence. Sam, Ashton’s son, grew into a boisterous, kind-hearted boy, with a mischievous glint in his eyes that reminded me of Ayden, and a steady strength that spoke of Ashton.

And Avery. My daughter. The Goddess of Creation. She grew, too, but differently. Her aura, that soft, ethereal glow, intensified with each passing year. Her eyes, startlingly blue, held a wisdom far beyond her tender age. Her essence pulsed in harmony with her very being, just as the black diamond once pulsed within me. She could make flowers bloom with a thought, soothe animals with a touch, and even, on occasion, cause tiny, harmless seismic shifts with a giggle. 

We knew, though, that the peace was tenuous. Owain’s defeat had sent ripples through the Dragon World. His actions had awakened other, older threats. The whispers of war, of rival factions, never truly died down. And Avery, my precious daughter, was now the most powerful being on the planet. A beacon, a target.

The decision was agonizing, a knife to my heart. But it was necessary. “We have to hide her, Layla,” Adrik had said, his voice heavy with pain, but his eyes resolute. “For her safety. For the safety of the world.”

Akon had held me as I wept, his strong arms a temporary comfort against the unbearable ache of separation. Ashton, ever practical, had spent weeks researching, finding the most remote, most trustworthy dragon clan, a family known for their unwavering loyalty and their hidden mountain stronghold. Ayden, usually the joker, was somber, his eyes reflecting the depth of our collective sorrow. “Layla, she won’t forget us. She will remember us when the time is right. When we place her and hide all that she is, we will leave hints in the form of lullabies,” he said as a tear fell from his eye.

Adrik nodded. “We will make her plain and seem human, even among dragons. The couple Ashton has chosen will think the Goddess has blessed them with Avery. They will sing her songs of the fierce princess her mother was and the fierce queen our daughter is destined to be. This won’t be goodbye. We will see and hold her again.”

This was a beautiful idea from the most chaotic men I have ever known. It was an enigma just like our Avery. So, one cold, moonless night, with tears streaming down my face, I held my beautiful Avery one last time. Her tiny hand clutched my finger, her blue eyes so full of innocent wonder, looking up at me. “Mama?” she had whispered, her voice a soft chime. 

“I love you, my starlight, my eternal flame,” I choked out, pressing a kiss to her forehead, feeling the faint, reassuring hum of the black diamond against her skin. “Always. Forever.” This is the last time she would have my hair and my eyes. From the moment I leave her, she will be plain and appear human in every way.

We entrusted her to the dragon family, watching as they disappeared into the night, taking a piece of my soul with them. Sam, too young to fully understand, had cried for his sister, his small heart aching. We told him she was on a special mission, a secret adventure, and that she would return. We lied, for his protection, for our sanity. 

The years that followed were a blur of bittersweet joy and relentless vigilance. Sam grew, strong and kind, his laughter a balm to our wounded hearts. We ruled Talos, we rebuilt, we strengthened our defenses. But the wars came. Not just external threats, but internal strife, born of fear, of ambition, of the power vacuum Owain had left behind. 

My mates and I, once inseparable, found ourselves stretched thin, pulled in a thousand different directions. Adrik, leading the armies, his focus grim. Akon was a furious storm on the battlefield. Ashton, tirelessly rebuilding, repairing, and maintaining. Ayden, using his wit and charm for diplomacy, often returned with a weary sigh. The laughter still echoed in the halls of Talos, but it was often tinged with a weariness that hadn't been there before. The years of fighting, of constant threat, of the agonizing separation from Avery, began to take their toll. The easy intimacy, the shared moments of quiet joy, were replaced by strategy sessions, by grim reports, by the ever-present shadow of war. 

I missed Avery. Every single day, every single moment. I missed her light, her innocence, her pure, unadulterated joy. I knew that we would all be reunited one day because of a vision I had. Avery would once again be the key. We were still a family, yes. But the wars, the constant battles, the gnawing anxiety for our hidden daughter, had torn at the edges of our once-unbreakable bond. We fought for the Dragon World, for our people, for the hope of a future where Avery could finally return. But the cost… the cost was immense. And sometimes, in the darkest hours, I wondered if we would ever truly be whole again. But I kept reminding myself of that vision. As long as we have love in our hearts, there is hope.