The hunt for the Ghost of the Forest remained a priority—but Hibana didn't let it consume him. He kept taking smaller jobs for the Adventurer's Guild. Quieter ones. Tasks that let him move unnoticed through the world.
Tsu trained every day, her movements as precise and merciless as ever. She had begun instructing Hibana in swordplay too—if "instructing" meant knocking him to the ground with the flat of a blade and calling it a lesson. Her teaching was cold, disciplined, and utterly without praise.
Solryn, meanwhile, had made several return trips to town. Each time he came back with more scrolls, journals, and strange magical instruments. He'd taken it upon himself to study Hibana's condition, and now—on this clear night beneath the stars—he finally had something to say.
The mage flipped a page with his usual dramatic flair. A small lantern flickered beside him, casting gold over the parchment.
"Based on what you've told me, you hatched only a few months ago. But you molted just before the Lizardfolk arrived. Dragons molt every three years, Hibana."
He looked up, eyes sharp behind his tired expression.
"So—doing some rough math—every hour you spend in True Polymorph is aging your dragon body by about two months."
He shut the book with a soft thud.
"I've no idea why. Maybe a gifted healer could tell you more. But for now, don't lose sleep over it. Dragons are effectively immortal."
Solryn stood and stretched, his robe rustling in the quiet.
"The only reason they don't live as long as elves is because they're arrogant idiots. Always looking for the strongest opponent—until they find one, and it kills them."
He gave Hibana a sidelong glance.
"You've shown yourself to be… something of an anomaly in that regard. Though this entire settlement might just be a new kind of foolishness."
Hibana gave a faint smile. "Thanks for the info, Solryn. I'll be careful."
Solryn snorted and turned away.
"Hmmph."
He disappeared into his tent, leaving Hibana alone with the firelight and his thoughts.
Hibana wandered toward the kobold quarter of the settlement. It had been a while since he'd simply watched them—not as a leader, not as a symbol, but as people.
They were always so full of energy. Always moving, always laughing. Industrious in a way that reminded him of the goblins.Especially Gobo.
The memory struck like a stone to the chest.
That bright little smile, cut short by an arrow. That moment—mid-laugh, mid-life—still played on repeat in the quiet corners of Hibana's heart.
His steps slowed as he reached the clearing where the kobolds had gathered. A dozen of them were dancing around a fire, their high-pitched voices singing something old and joyful. Dundru led the rhythm, stomping in time, tail swaying.
But the moment they spotted him, the mood shifted.
They whooped and cheered, breaking formation. One pointed excitedly.
"There's our strong dragon leader!" shouted a blue-scaled kobold.
"No one can match his power!" added a dark orange one, pounding his fists in the dirt.
"Yes! One day he will slay the mightiest beast in the world!" Dundru cried, grinning up at him, eyes gleaming. It was the kind of grin that begged for approval. For pride returned.
But Hibana only gave a faint, polite smile.
Something twisted inside his chest.
"Is this really all they see when they look at me?""A killer? A monster meant to conquer?"
His eyes dropped to the ground. The dirt felt very far away. Heavy.
Dundru noticed the silence first. The lack of roar, of fire, of joy.
He stepped forward, ears twitching.
"Was… our praise not to your liking, Great One?"
Hibana shook his head gently.
"No. It's fine. I just… I don't know.""I think I need to be alone for a while."
His voice didn't rise or crack. But something about the way he said it—soft, distant, almost tired—made the kobolds fall silent.
Even Dundru didn't follow.
Hibana wandered to the edge of the clearing. A few faeries drifted lazily through the trees above, their wings casting pale glows like flickering stars. They barely noticed him as he passed beneath them.
He found a soft patch of dirt and lowered himself slowly, exhaling.
"What's wrong with me?""Why do I feel so… empty?"
He dug his claws into the earth, pushing the soil aside until he had formed a shallow pit. Not a den. Not a nest. Just a hole to hold the ache.
Curling into it, he felt the tears come—not loudly, not in sobs. Just quiet, persistent streams that welled in the corners of his eyes and slipped down across his scales.
"Maybe someday they'll understand…"
Then—a rustle behind him.
Hibana tensed, lifting his head. A small figure approached, emerging shyly from the brush.
It was one of the youngest kobolds—Jutu. He wore a ragged fur coat too big for his small frame. His scales were a pale cyan, his eyes the same soft color. He blinked up at Hibana with a puzzled, almost hurt expression.
"Why you not shine anymore when we praise you, Great One?" Jutu asked."Did we break you?"
Hibana stared at him for a long moment. Then slowly stood and turned to face him.
"No, Jutu. You didn't break me.""I appreciate the praise. I really do. But…"
He hesitated, searching for the right words.
"It's hard to explain. I just… I feel like none of you really see me. Not what I am—but what I'm trying to do here."
Jutu blinked, confused. He took a few cautious steps closer.
"But… I see you fine! Orange dragon. Green eyes. Fluffy fur on top of head."
Hibana let out a small, tired laugh.
"No, Jutu… I don't mean how I look."
He paused. His green eyes glowed softly in the firelight, though the warmth didn't reach past their surface.
"I don't want to be seen for what I can destroy. I want to be seen for what I'm trying to grow."
Jutu stared for a long moment, his head tilted like a pup hearing a new sound.
"That's weird."
Hibana chuckled again—softer this time. Less bitter.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "It is."
Jutu tilted his head, eyes blinking wide.
"You not wanting to destroy… so what you want from us?"
Hibana stood slowly and stepped closer. He reached out and gently rested a clawed hand on the child's head. The kobold's skin was cool beneath his touch—soft, almost fragile.
He looked into Jutu's curious eyes and said, simply:
"I want you all to live here with me… and be happy.""That's all."
J
Jutu didn't pull away from Hibana's hand.
The little kobold tilted his head again, his voice soft.
"Why?"
Hibana blinked.
And for a moment, he wasn't in Hearthflame anymore.
He was back in that quiet apartment. The flickering screen. The dim glow of a cracked microwave clock. Nights spent talking to voices across oceans. Days spent pushing a mop down sterile corridors. A hundred people passed him by every day, and not one of them really saw him.
Then—his thoughts shifted to this world. To the dragons who had given him life… and nothing else. How they had looked at him like a blemish. A mistake. A thing to be discarded before he even had the chance to cry.
The heat stirred in his chest.
Smoke curled from his nostrils.
He remembered Gobo's smile.
And the arrow that took it away.
"Because somebody has to," he said. His voice trembled, but he didn't look away."And it might as well be me."
The fire inside him surged, but he held it back.
He pictured the bucket of water. Tsu's steady breath.
And slowly… the flame calmed.
"Because if I don't…""Then nothing in this world will ever change."
Some time later, a shadow approached from the treeline. The flickering firelight revealed the scaled form of a Lizardfolk warrior—one of the males. Hibana recognized him immediately.
"Gharulu," he said softly, without rising.
The young kobold, still curled in Hibana's arms, slept soundly—his small chest rising and falling in slow, steady rhythm.
"Forgive my intrusion, Master Dragon," Gharulu said, bowing low. "But scouts have reported signs of bandits… just outside the Fae Wilds' perimeter."
Hibana nodded, his voice low so as not to wake the child.
"They don't have permission from the faeries to enter this place. They might just be testing the barrier."
Gharulu's golden eyes flicked toward the kobold, then back.
"Shall I rouse the guard?"
"Not yet," Hibana said. "I'll check it out myself. But first, I need to return this little one to his family."
He gently adjusted his arms and shifted Jutu onto his back, between the curve of his wings. The kobold barely stirred, murmuring something unintelligible as his cheek rested against Hibana's neck.
"And… call me Hibana," he added.
Gharulu hesitated, then bowed deeper.
"Apologies, Hibana. I'll return to my post."
Hibana nodded, then turned toward the settlement. He walked slowly—carefully—cradling the child's warmth like a fading ember he didn't want to let go of just yet.
When he reached the kobold hutch, two smaller figures rushed out in a panic. The moment they saw him, they dropped to the ground, bowing so low their snouts brushed the dirt.
"We're sorry, Great One!" the mother cried. "Our cub disturbed your rest! Please don't eat us!"
Hibana blinked. He lowered himself onto one knee and gently eased Jutu into his mother's arms.
"He didn't disturb me," Hibana said quietly."He gave me what I needed most tonight. His company."
He smiled—just faintly. "He's a good kobold. Please… keep him safe."
The parents looked up slowly, eyes wide with disbelief. Then they bowed again—this time with quiet reverence.
They carried their son inside, whispering soft words Hibana couldn't hear.
Hibana rose and dusted off his cloak.
Across the camp, a figure sat by the firelight, leafing through a thick tome with one hand while stirring tea with the other.
"Solryn," Hibana called.
The mage looked up without lifting his head, one brow arching.
"Will you come with me? There are bandits outside the Fae Wilds."
Solryn sighed and closed his book with a snap.
"Of course there are."
He stood, brushing off his robes.
"Very well. Let's go scare some idiots."
And together, the two vanished into the trees beyond Hearthflame's edge.