Chapter 42 #2
Then, hooves thudded gently on the dock. A centaur stepped forward from the crowd. His chest was broad, and his shoulders tense. “Then tell us what we can do,” he asked. “This… this was done long before we arrived. But we’re here now. Tell us how to fix it.”
Jabir let out a shaky breath. “The dam,” he said, pointing toward the southern bend of the lake. “It has to come down. The river must flow again. The lake has to be restored. Only then can the male sirens return. Only then can families be made whole.”
A hush fell across the dock once more—this time not born of denial, but dawning understanding. The weight of his words settled like morning mist—cool, heavy, inescapable.
Out of the darkness, a powerful, regal voice rang out.
“Then let it be so.”
The crowd turned in unison.
Torches flickered in startled hands. Cory, Jack, and Albacore dropped to their knees in reverence. The firelight glimmered off a regal woman’s dark curls as she stepped forward. She was wrapped in layers of midnight-black silk that shimmered like the lake under moonlight.
Nali, Empress of the Monsters.
Jabir blinked in surprise—until his eyes caught movement behind her.
A blur of colors and excited voices.
Then—
“Jabir!”
He barely had time to brace himself before the Dragonlings burst from the shadows, a cacophony of joy and relief in physical form.
Amber barreled into him from the right, nearly knocking him over, Jade followed on her heels, Zohar let out a triumphant shout, and Roam tackled him in a half-hug, half-wrestling maneuver.
“You’re alive!” Adaline squealed, dancing in place.
“Barely,” Jabir wheezed, laughing even as he hugged them all back. “You’re going to break my ribs.”
“It’s good to see you, dude,” Zohar said cheerfully, patting his back a little too hard.
“So who’s this mysterious siren that you are gushing over?” Amber teased.
“She’s amazing,” Jabir said, grinning as the tension finally bled from his shoulders. “You guys would love her.”
That sobered the group as Nali spoke quietly to the villagers. “The young prince is right, the sirens are as much a part of this world as you. To deny one species is to deny all.”
“It was very short-sighted of us, your Majesty,” Albacore said with a shake of his head.
“The responsibility is mine. As Empress, I should have been more aware,” Nali replied. “I will speak with the siren queen.”
“What about the dam?” Jabir asked, glancing up at the sky. “I promised I would return with a resolution before the sun rose. It will take time to remove and repair the damage.”
Nali smiled and rested her hand on Jabir’s shoulder. “You have a good heart, young prince.” She looked with sparkling eyes at the group of teenagers. “I think with a little help, we can move things along until the dam is removed.”
“Oh, Jade and I can help with that!” Amber said, her eyes lighting up with delight.
“We’d better help, or they’ll blow up half the lake,” Zohar muttered.
“I’m in,” Roam said.
“I can create a portal for the males to come through,” Phoenix said.
Alice thought for a moment before she looked at Adaline. “We can help control the water flow back into the river so it isn’t too fast.”
“Bálint and I will warn any creatures along the banks downriver of the changes,” Jabir replied.
He looked over at Nali, who stood silent and regal at the edge of the crowd, watching with a smile on her lips.
“We can help as well,” Jack said, pulling the blanket from around his shoulders. He looked at the gathering of villagers.
Jabir smiled at his friends. He laughed and wound his arm around Roam. Roam blinked up at him in surprise.
“Dang, Jabir! What have you been eating? You’re taller than me now!” Roam exclaimed.
“Heck, it looks like he’s grown at least an inch or two just in the last week!” Bálint said.
Jabir laughed before he saw all his friends staring at him in amazement. He realized that he was at least as tall as Zohar now—and as broad, if not broader.
Maybe being hungry all time make us grow. His dragon beamed.
Maybe we’ve hit that growing spurt mom always said would come, he chuckled.
In the shadows, an elegant Manticore with gold eyes observed the gathering.
Aminta sighed as she watched the group of young Dragonlings excitedly making plans.
Her gaze softened when she looked at the Empress of the Monsters.
In her eyes, Nali would always be the special, beautiful child that she had brought to this world centuries before.
She turned her gaze to the young boy who, almost overnight, had turned into a handsome, brave young man.
Each of the dragonlings had a beautiful heart and had proven they would be strong, compassionate leaders in a universe that could be cruel.
But this dragonling held a special place in her heart.
His gentleness and compassion had been needed to heal the rift between the land and water.
Jabir turned toward the dam. “Come morning,” he said, “we’ll start.”
Behind him, the villagers—monsters and Dragonlings alike—rose in quiet agreement, ready to begin the work of healing a wound long ignored.
“Yes, young prince, your healing touch holds a special magic,” Aminta murmured before she left to check on another prince whose gentle heart also ached for his son.
Valdier
Mandra’s arms were folded over his chest, but appearing composed was a lost cause. His heart was too full. The screen in front of him glowed with the flickering torchlight from the dock, casting a soft, golden hue across the faces of everyone packed into the observation room.
It was full to bursting.
Not just with fathers.
The mothers had returned the morning after Ariel had arrived home, storming into the palace with fire in their eyes and the collective energy of a maternal army sensing trouble. They had barely waited for the men to finish telling him what they knew before demanding access to the recorded footage.
Trelon had grumbled, “Maybe we shouldn’t be eavesdropping on the kids,” scratching the back of his neck as if trying to peel off his guilt.
Cara’s sharp look had sliced through the room.
“You’re kidding, right?” she snapped. “I missed the girls taking on pirates! If you think I’m going to miss anything else, you better be prepared for your scales to get toasted.”
And that had been the end of that.
Now they were all crowded together, watching their children discover a multitude of unusual creatures, outwit pirates, navigate strange lands, and, somehow, find their way back to each other.
But, in the end, it was Jabir who had Mandra’s gaze locked.
On the screen, his son stood tall and unflinching before the Siren Queen, her fury like a tempest in the cavern. And then—later—when Jabir faced the villagers, his voice low but steady, fierce in its truth… Mandra felt something deep and visceral shift inside him.
Pride didn’t even begin to describe it.
Jabir wasn’t just his son anymore. He was a leader.
Ariel leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder, her fingers laced with his. He could see the moisture in her eyes even before she sighed.
“They’re not little anymore,” she whispered. “Look at them. Look at him.”
“I am,” he murmured, bending to kiss the crown of her head. Then, softly, “Thank you… for being the incredible mother you are. For being my love.”
Ariel turned her face up to his, her eyes shining with emotion. He couldn’t help himself—he kissed her again, this time on the lips, lingering in the warmth of her love.
When he suddenly swept her onto his lap with a mock growl, Ariel squealed, half-laughing, half-scolding.
Around them, Trelon chuckled, muttering something about getting a room, while Vox grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at Riley who blew him a kiss.
Kelan and Creon exchanged knowing smirks, and Zoran—calm, quiet Zoran—watched with a rare smile tugging at his lips and Abby in his arms.
Mandra barely noticed.
He was too caught up in the feel of Ariel’s arms looping around his neck and the way she fit so perfectly against him. He held her close and whispered so only she could hear:
“I love you, Ariel. Then. Now. Always.”
Her arms tightened around him in answer.
As the screen shifted to show the Dragonlings reunited, joy spilling into laughter and teasing, the room grew quiet—not solemn, but reverent.
Each parent saw something familiar—an echo of themselves, a reflection of what they had fought for. What they had built.
What had begun with Zoran’s crash landing on Abby’s remote mountain so many years ago… had become something far greater than any of them had imagined.
A family.
A future.
And in this moment, hearts full and together again, they knew they would carry this memory forever.
Manticore Village: Isle of the Monsters
The dock creaked gently beneath them, and the gentle lap of water beat a rhythm against the shore.
Jabir sat with his legs dangling over the edge, one arm wrapped around Jewel as her silvery tail flicked lazily in the moonlit water.
The warm hush of evening wrapped around the lake, woven with laughter, soft music, and the occasional splash of a siren diving into the depths.
Lanterns floated skyward, glowing like golden fireflies. Dozens of them launched from boats where villagers and sirens sat side by side—tentative allies finding laughter and healing in the same breath.
Jabir exhaled slowly, his eyes scanning the mirrored surface of the lake, the reflection of light and shadow dancing in rhythm with the gentle waves.
There was still a lot of work to do. So many wounds to mend. But tonight… was full of hope.
He glanced toward the large, festively decorated rowboat a few hundred feet offshore.
Jack and Cory sat near the stern, chatting with Jewel’s parents.
The Siren Queen’s soft laugh rang out—a melodious sound that caused more than one head to turn—while Jewel’s father leaned in to listen, his arm protectively around his mate’s waist.
Jabir’s heart swelled and ached all at once.
He tightened his hold around Jewel when she laid her head against his shoulder. She threaded her fingers through his and sighed again. Neither had spoken about what came next. Neither wanted to.
But the question was there, hanging between them, weightless and heavy all at once.
He felt her shift beside him.
“My father said that, while there is more river water in our lake now, it’s fuller because of all the tears of joy that have been shed since their return,” she murmured with a watery smile.
Jabir smiled faintly. “I believe it.”
She was quiet a moment, then said softly, “None of this would’ve happened without you.”
He swallowed hard, emotion catching in his throat. “I’m happy for you. For all of you.”
Jewel pulled away just enough to turn and face him. Her cool fingers cupped his hand and brought it to her lips. A kiss. Gentle. Final.
“I’ll miss you,” she whispered.
The words pierced his chest. He froze, staring down at her, startled by how much it hurt to hear them out loud. “Jewel…”
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice like wind brushing over water. “I knew from the beginning.” She glanced toward the gathering where his friends were watching him now—quiet, respectful, hopeful.
“You don’t belong here,” she added, not unkindly. “Not forever.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “I thought about staying. I wanted to. I really did. But… I couldn’t do that to my parents.”
She nodded, her gaze drifting up to the star-strewn sky. “They must miss you.”
He followed her gaze, his heart aching at the sight. The stars seemed different here. Brighter. Closer. Or maybe it was just that everything about this place had become sharper—more vivid—with her in it.
“Tell me what flying through space is like,” she said suddenly. “The way we flew together… is it like that?”
He smiled, a wistful tilt of his lips. “It’s different. Not better. But there’s something magical about it. The silence. The infinite sky. You look down and realize how small everything is—but how connected, too.”
“Like the isles,” she said. “Except yours are stars.”
“Exactly.”
She was quiet for a long moment. The moonlight cascaded over her as her tail shimmered and shifted, folding into long, graceful legs. She stood and held out her hand to him, her eyes shining with tears that hadn’t fallen yet.
“Take me flying,” she requested in a quiet voice. “One more time. Before you go.”
His breath caught.
He rose slowly, never taking his eyes off her. His hand found hers—warm, slender, strong—and he held it like a lifeline.
Then he stepped back, called his dragon, and shifted in a shimmer of sapphire, silver, and heat.
She gazed at him with eyes filled with wonder.
With ease, she climbed onto his back, slipping into the space just in front of his wings like she belonged there.
Because she did.
He jumped, and his wings beat the air, lifting them off the dock, away from the village, and into the sky.
They soared.
He wove between the lanterns, his dragon dancing among them like a living blue flame. Jewel’s laughter rang out, sparkling like starlight. Below, the lake shimmered, dotted with boats and celebration, the scars of the past slowly fading beneath the glow of hope.
Jabir’s dragon purred, soaring higher.
Faster.
Freer.
And all the while, he held the memory of her laughter in his heart, sealing it away like treasure.
Because he knew—no matter how far he flew, across galaxies or time—he would never forget her.
The siren who taught him what it meant to be brave.
To be whole.
To love.
Jewel.
His Jewel.
His first, unforgettable love.