Jesse could only watch as the Hero descended on Linemall like a falling comet.

He had been able to do nothing even when Lukas had thrown himself against the Hero from Another World and sent them both plummeting towards the shores of Linemall. But even as the young dragonborn cursed himself for simply having stood there rooted to the ground, he knew that nothing he did would help Lukas. Not against the Hero of Humanity, the Champion of Oceanus himself.

Jesse had returned only hours ago to the Kingdom of Dragons.

Ellion, the Guild's Head Physician, had worked with feverish determination that Jesse had never seen from the mage thus far. The man had locked himself away with Varian's records, those meticulously encrypted journals of the Archmage whose influence stretched like shadow across kingdoms. Where others might have surrendered before such ciphers, Varian's former apprentice pressed on, driven not by pride but by necessity; unraveling layers of code only the greatest of minds could hope to crack.

But Jesse's time in Ilagron Village was not spent on helping Ellion uncover the secrets that Varian had kept within his records nor was it spent on acting as the Head of the Merchant Guild that continued to take the world by storm.

No, his place had been at the side of Velena Ilagron, Countess of Linemall—the woman who had become more than just a friend to the Kingdom of Dragons.

To Jesse Sterling, she had become like the mother he'd never had.

Her frail form lay wasted upon the bed, her breaths shallow and her body caught in the relentless grip of decline.

He sat beside her even when she slept, hands folded tightly to stop the tremor of fear that coursed through him.

It was sheer agony to watch her slowly fade away, to know that each day might be her last.

The Countess did not fear death but Jesse feared for her.

It broke his heart again and again to see her lying there, a shell of her former self, no longer the noble woman who had taught Jesse so much and revealed him things he had never known about himself.

He would not leave her side until her time among the living truly came to its inevitable end.

Yet it was not Velena's death that had brought Jesse back to Linemall but rather Ellion and what he had found within Varian's records.

Among the countless journals and coded passages, the physician had discovered something that even Varian had scarcely bothered to conceal. It was a single page, written without the heavy layers of cipher that cloaked darker secrets that the Archmage could never muster the courage to speak aloud and for that very reason it stood out to Varian's former apprentice like a sore thumb.

There, in plain script, Varian had documented an encounter years past—an encounter not with kings or knights, but rather with a girl. A young girl with hair as bright and red as flame who had crossed paths with the Master of Potions long before they had ever left Linemall in search for Katrina's father.

The girl had been a Dragonborn.

Varian's words, though clinical, carried an undertone of awe. This was, he noted, the first time he had ever stood a dragon freed of their chains; moreover she was of Linemall's nobility. The girl was a dragonborn, being capable of shifting into human form, walking among mortals with all the grace and danger of her kind. She had offered him herbs and rare flora, treasures said to bloom only in the hidden reaches of the mythical Kingdom of Dragons—a land sealed from Hiraeth since the dawn of memory. For such rare ingredients, she asked only for all the coin Varian had to offer, all of which the Master of Potions was more than willing to part with.

Her name was recorded as though it mattered little to him.

The girl's name had been Valkari.

The truth Ellion uncovered tore apart everything Jesse thought he knew about the Dragonborn of the Flames.

For years, they had believed in her story; never doubting her for a second.

When Lukas had found her, she had been a slave being auctioned of to the highest bidders within the House of Fortunes. It was her own brother who had sold her into those chains but now Jesse knew that this had never been the case.

The page in Varian's journal told a different truth.

Valkari had never been sold into slavery.

Rysenth had sought only to protect her and it had been she who had cast that protection aside, who had chosen to abandon her home and venture out into Hiraeth for no reason other than her own restless will. In doing so, she had been exposed to the horrors humanity was capable of; forced to fight for her own survival until Lukas had saved her from her captors.

That revelation alone shook Jesse to his core but there was still more.

Ellion's sharp eyes had caught something deeper hidden in the details—a list, carefully written, of the herbs and fauna Varian had bought off of Valkari.

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Among that list of ingredients was once that any dragon raised within Linemall's borders would recognize: Lunaria.

To dragons, Lunaria was a delicacy, a small luxury treasured for its taste. But to humans, it was death disguised as sweetness. A single leaf would do no harm. But consume enough of it and it would send the strongest of men into a slumber from which they would never awaken.

Ellion's voice had trembled when he explained it to Jesse.

It was Lunaria that the Head Physician had identified in the last potion Varian ever drank before his passing. But because of Lunaria's rarity, Ellion had simply never been able to name it. Jesse had seen the look in Ellion's eyes, the guilt of never having been able to fulfill his search for who had been responsible for his master's death finally being lifted from his very soul.

The legendary Archmage they called the Master of Potions had not fallen to the schemes of the Church or to Daerion's machinations. He had not been silenced by politics or divine retribution of the Church he was sponsored by. He had been murdered by Valkari Ishtar herself, using the very plant she had once sold to him, cutting his life short before he could expose the lie they had all believed.

Then, like a blade turning and sinking deeper into Jesse's guts, came the final blow.

Velena's tea—a cup she brewed and drank daily, the comfort found in the sweet concoction—had come as a gift from Valkari herself. Within those bags of tea was the very same herb that had led Varian to his inevitable death. In small doses the effects of Lunaria were not immediate but each sip the Countess had taken tightened the chains that drew her closer towards the Underworld.

His mother in all but blood, the Countess who had given him a home, who had loved him when he had thought himself unworthy of love—she was not merely dying of illness.

She was being poisoned, just like Varian had.

Jesse could hardly breathe as the weight of it all pressed against him, remembering the moment when it had all come crashing down on him.

Everything he had known about Valkari—the flame-haired dragonborn he had once called family—had been a lie. She had ended Varian's life to bury her past. If not for Ellion, Valkari would have put an end to Velena's life as well. The knowledge seared into Jesse like the Divinity she wielded, burning away the last remnants of trust he'd come to have for her.

But he understood why.

Somehow, the dragonborn had known that Jesse would remain by Velena's side in her dying days.

Valkari had loved him in a way a woman loved a man and because of that, she did not want him to be there. She did not want Jesse to be there when she brought her vengeance down on the human race, she did not want him to see the things she had to do to make her vision a reality.

Valkari had confessed her love for him once, when the night had made them vulnerable and honest. But Jesse's heart already belonged to another.

Now returned to the present, standing before him was the very girl who he'd already given his heart to.

Just for a single second there was nothing else that mattered except her.

When Jesse saw Rosalia standing there, the world all around him seemed to vanish; all of it fading into nothingness. His draconic form shimmered and broke apart, scales receding into flesh, wings folding into himself as he returned to the shape of a man. Before he could even take a step toward her, the princess of Easthaven was already moving, throwing herself into his arms and he caught her without hesitation.

Her body pressed against his, soft yet trembling, her breath warm against his skin.

Jesse buried his head into the crook of her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair as though it alone could ground him in the chaos all around them. Rosalia held him tightly, her fingers clutching at him as if she too had feared that this moment would never come again. She whispered words only for him—gentle, fleeting comforts that wrapped around his heart like fragile thread.

The moment he had discovered the truth about Valkari, he had feared for Rosalia's life above all else, that perhaps the dragonborn would hurt her out of jealousy and spite. But Rosalia was safe and she was right here. Jesse wished that time would stop, that the battle raging around them would vanish into silence, so he could continue holding Rosalia as if nothing else in the world truly mattered.

But time went on regardless.

Beyond Mount Ashendir, on the shores of Linemall, Lukas continued to fight against the Hero from Another World, their battle shaking heaven and earth alike. Water rose in great torrents only to freeze mid-air, while the ground split beneath their feet, as if the Titans themselves had turned their wrath upon Hiraeth.

It was no ordinary duel—this was a clash that could decide if the Kingdom of Dragons came to an end, a Kingdom they all called home. Linemall's survival, perhaps even the fate of Hiraeth itself, rested upon Lukas' shoulders.

Jesse's chest tightened.

This was not his fight.

Against the Hero's might, he would be nothing but collateral damage, distractions that would shatter Lukas' concentration instead of aiding the Lord of Linemall's Seas. To stand at his side now would be to die, a meaningless sarifice that would do them no good.

But to do nothing at all was not something Jesse could accept. The young dragonborn could not stand idle and watch his Lord put his life on the line to defeat an enemy no mortal was ever meant to face.

His gaze found Rosalia's once more, and in her eyes he found the strength he needed. She gazed at Jesse with the steady calm of one who understood, who carried her own weight of nobility and sacrifice. The princess could see the gears turning Jesse's head, a plan already beginning to form. She said nothing, only giving him a single nod of reassurance and that was all he needed.

Jesse stepped forward, drawing in a deep breath as though gathering the fragments of his will. His hands reached upward, and the Crown responded. It awakened as if it had been waiting for this moment, a white halo unfurling into existence, radiating a brilliance so pure it outshone even the midday sun.

The Crown settled upon Jesse's brow, heavy not with gold but with history.

The air trembled as his Crown's radiance spread outward.

Power surged through him, not as a weapon to strike the Hero, but as a gift to Lukas.

Jesse understood what he needed to do. He understood what they all must do.

They could not fight in Lukas' place, but they could give him the power he needed to win this fight.

Their faith. Their lives. Their legacies. Their strength.

Lukas needed all of it, now more than ever before.

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