The dragon was buried three days later.
Not by dragons.
Not by the kingdom.
By Elsa.
---
The hunters had watched in silence.
None dared interfere.
Not after what happened in the clearing.
Not after witnessing the ancient dragon's final moments.
---
They left before sunset.
One by one.
Without battle.
Without victory.
Without understanding what they had seen.
---
Only Elsa remained.
---
The grave sat deep within the forest.
Far from roads.
Far from kingdoms.
Far from fear.
---
A simple mound of earth.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
---
"It deserved better."
The words escaped quietly.
---
"You say that a lot."
The old man stood nearby holding a shovel.
---
Elsa glanced toward him.
"Maybe because it's true."
---
The old man nodded.
Fair enough.
---
The two stood in silence for a while.
Wind moving gently through the trees.
---
Then Elsa turned away.
Ready to leave again.
---
"Stay."
---
She stopped.
---
The old man rested the shovel against his shoulder.
"You look exhausted."
---
"I am."
---
"Then stay."
---
Elsa frowned slightly.
"Here?"
---
"Why not?"
---
The question sounded simple.
Too simple.
---
Because people didn't invite her anywhere.
Not anymore.
---
The old man shrugged.
"I have one hut."
A pause.
"Two chairs."
Another pause.
"Seems wasteful."
---
Elsa stared at him.
Unsure whether he was joking.
---
He probably was.
A little.
---
That made it worse.
---
Because for a brief moment—
She remembered Edward.
---
The memory hurt.
---
But not as much as before.
---
"...Just for one night."
---
The old man smiled.
"That's what everyone says."
---
For the first time in weeks—
Elsa almost laughed.
---
Almost.
---
That night was strange.
---
Not because anything happened.
Because nothing happened.
---
No hunters.
No monsters.
No accusations.
No flames.
---
Just dinner.
---
The old man burned half the fish.
Ruined the soup.
And somehow managed to drop a spoon into the fire.
---
Elsa watched the disaster unfold.
Speechless.
---
"You're terrible at everything."
---
"Not everything."
---
"What are you good at?"
---
The old man thought seriously.
---
Then answered honestly.
---
"Surviving long enough to become bad at things."
---
A small laugh escaped her.
Real this time.
Short.
Unexpected.
---
Both froze.
---
Elsa blinked.
---
The old man smiled.
---
"There it is."
---
Immediately—
She looked away.
---
Embarrassed.
---
Because she hadn't laughed since Edward died.
---
The realization struck both of them at once.
---
Silence followed.
Gentler now.
---
Later that night—
Elsa sat outside beneath the stars.
---
The forest was quiet.
Peaceful.
---
For once—
Her thoughts weren't screaming.
---
The door behind her opened softly.
---
The old man stepped outside carrying two cups.
---
He handed one to her.
---
She accepted it.
---
"Thank you."
---
The words came naturally.
---
The old man sat beside her.
---
"You know..."
He stared upward.
"...people think belonging is about finding a place that accepts you."
---
Elsa listened quietly.
---
"It's not."
---
"What is it then?"
---
The old man smiled faintly.
---
"It's finding somewhere you don't have to pretend."
---
The answer lingered.
---
Elsa looked down at the cup in her hands.
---
Somewhere she didn't have to pretend.
---
Edward had been that place.
---
And when he died—
She thought that place died too.
---
Maybe...
Not completely.
---
A dangerous thought.
---
A hopeful one.
---
The most dangerous kind.
---
Far away—
Inside the capital—
A different conversation was happening.
---
Jack stood before maps covered with reports.
---
Villages.
Sightings.
Witness accounts.
---
None matched the official narrative anymore.
---
The monster wasn't acting like a monster.
---
And that frightened the kingdom more than if she had.
---
Because fear was easy.
---
Doubt was harder.
---
Across the room stood the spear warrior.
The same man who had killed Elsa's mother years ago.
The same man who would one day kill Elsa.
Though neither knew how that day would come.
---
His expression remained unreadable.
---
"She's still holding back."
---
Jack looked up.
---
The spear warrior nodded slowly.
---
"That's what worries me."
---
Because eventually—
Everyone has a limit.
---
And if Elsa ever reached hers—
The world would burn.
---
Back in the forest—
Elsa sat beneath the stars.
Holding a warm cup.
Listening to crickets.
---
For the first time since Edward's death—
She wasn't merely surviving.
---
She was living.
---
Just a little.
---
And that made what comes later hurt even more.