Her chest tightened. Sharp. Suddenly. Starfania's hand instinctively flew to the center of her chest, fingers pressing against her sternum as if she could hold herself together. Her breathing turned shallow. Uneven. One thought—then another—then another—until her mind split in two. You left him. The voice was harsh. Unforgiving. You chose this. You chose to leave your father behind. You chose adventure over him. Her grip tightened. Her nails are digging into the fabric over her heart. He lost everything…and then he lost you. Her breath hitched. You were the last thing keeping him grounded. And you walked away.
" Stop…" she whispered, shaking her head.
But the other voice rose. Stronger. Clearer. No. You didn't leave him. You were chosen. Her breathing stuttered. You are the Dragon Savior. You are responsible for Avalon. For the dragons. Her heart pounded harder. You don't get to run from that.
" I didn't ask for this…" she muttered, her voice trembling. It doesn't matter. The two voices clashed. Relentless. You abandoned him. You're saving everyone else. You failed him. You can't fail everyone.
" Stop it!" she snapped, her voice cracking as she pressed harder against her chest. Her thoughts spiraled. Her vision blurred. And then—Cantina.
Standing there. Calm. Unmoving. Like she had been there the entire time. Starfania's emotion snapped. Without thinking—she shoved her. Or tried too. Her hands passed straight through her. Like mist. Like she wasn't even real.
" Why?!" Starfania's voice broke, frustration and pain spilling out all at once. " Why did you do this?!"
Her chest heaved. Her eyes burned. " Why me?!"
Her fists clenched at her sides. " Why did you bring me here?!"
The questions poured out of her like a storm she couldn't contain. Then—
As Starfania stared down at her feet, trembling, lost in the chaos of her own mind—a hand grabbed her shoulder. Firm. Real. She gasped—spinning around—Cantina stood behind her. Unshaken. Unmoved. Starfania's voice trembled, barely holding it together. " Why was I brought here?"
Cantina's expression didn't change. Not even slightly. " Reasons."
The word landed heavily. Too simple. Too empty. It only made everything worse. Starfania's frustration surged. Her fist clenched tighter. Her voice rose despite herself.
" Reasons?!" she snapped. " You bring me here—to this — to watch him—"
Her voice cracked. " To watch my father suffer like that—and all you can say is reasons?! "
Her breathing grew heavier.
" Was this supposed to teach me something?!" she demanded. " Because if it is, I deserve to know!"
But Cantina didn't respond. She simply turned. And started walking away. Like none of it mattered. Starfania froze. For a second. Then—
" Wait!" she called out, her voice desperate as she took a step forward. " If I'm here, I need to understand why!"
Cantina paused. Just slightly. A glance over her shoulder. A faint sigh. Still—nothing. Starfania's chest tightened again.
" Do you really think ignoring me fixes anything?" she pressed, frustration bubbling over. " I'm not some pawn you get to move around!"
This time—Cantina turned fully. Their eyes locked. Silence stretched between them. Thin. Tense.
" Knowledge isn't a game," Cantina said at last, her voice calm—too calm. " But understanding comes at a cost."
" What cost?" Starfania shot back immediately. " If this is about my father, then I have the right to know! I have the right to feel!"
Cantina studied her. Quietly. Then—a faint shift at the corner of her lips. Not quite a smile.
" Feeling is only the first step, Starfania," she said. " What you choose to do with those feelings…is what truly matters."
Starfania shook her head, frustration breaking through again.
" Why can't you just be honest with me?" she asked, her voice softer now—but more fragile.
" Honesty can be painful," Cantina replied, " but pain is often the catalyst for growth."
Starfania's shoulder tensed. Her resolve wavering.
" And what if I don't want to grow?" she whispered. " What if I just want my old life back?"
For the first time—something flickered across Cantina's face. Pity. Brief. But there.
" That choice," Cantina said softly, " was never yours to make."
The words hit harder than anything else.
" You are here now," she continued. " Embrace it…"
A pause. " …or be consumed by it."
Silence fell again. Heavy. Unforgiving.