Chapter 18: A New Dawn

 Chapter 18: A New Dawn

Nick’s breath caught as the caravan rolled into view of what used to be the Luminaris ranch. Gray ash clung to the air, swirling like specters in the waning daylight. The smell of charred wood and scorched earth hit him full force, and his stomach twisted. Where family laughter and the gentle neighs of unicorns once filled the yard, only blackened timbers and collapsed walls remained. Sparks still flickered in places, tiny embers refusing to die in the rubble. Beka sat beside him on the carriage seat, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge, eyes wide in disbelief.

They’d been locked in tense silence on the journey from Emberfalls, with Elder Fig muttering denials whenever the subject of the ranch came up. Now the truth lay before them, undeniable in its cruelty. Beka choked on a sob, pressing her hand to her mouth to stifle the cry. Nick felt a hot sting in his eyes—rage, sorrow, and heartbreak all tangled into a knot inside his chest.

No one in the caravan spoke at first. Even the Ember Council members, who had followed in their own carriages, stared in horror. Councilwoman Marisol was the first to break the quiet. “By the heavens,” she whispered, stepping down from her carriage. “Your home… oh, dear.”

Fig’s face remained carefully blank, though Nick caught the flicker of tension in his posture. Meanwhile, the Ember Guard, recently summoned by Marisol, hopped off the wagons—fully armed—and spread out to investigate. A few men in scorched leather jackets lingered near the crumbled barn, startled by the sudden arrival of an official caravan. They exchanged nervous glances as the Guard encircled them.

Nick jumped down from the carriage, heart hammering. Beka followed, her knees buckling slightly. She steadied herself against a broken fence post—its wood half-burned, splinters jutting like broken teeth.

“Our ranch,” she whispered, tears finally spilling over. “Nick… it’s all gone.”

Nick wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “We’ll rebuild,” he said, forcing strength into the words, though he himself trembled. “We have to.”

A rustling came from the side of the burnt-out house. One of the men, covered in soot, caught sight of the armed Ember Guard and tried to bolt. Two Guards sprinted after him, tackling him in a swirl of ash and dust. The man cursed, struggling until they wrenched him upright and clamped iron shackles around his wrists.

Councilwoman Marisol strode forward, glaring at the scattered group of rough-looking thugs who remained. “Who started this fire?” she demanded, voice ringing with authority. “Who dared burn down a ranch that has stood for generations?”

The soot-stained man refused to speak, but a second, bearded one swallowed hard. He shot a fearful glance at Elder Fig and spat on the ground. “We were hired to do it,” he admitted, voice shaking. “Paid off—promised good coin. We were told to make it look like an accident if we could, but… well, that’s all we know.”

Fig’s eyes flashed with panic. “You lying wretch—” he began, but Nick cut him off with a fierce snarl.

“Enough!” Nick growled, stepping so close that two Guards had to hold him back. “Fig, this is your doing, isn’t it? Where are our children? What have you done with them?”

Fig backpedaled, retreating from Nick’s fury. He raised his hands defensively. “I don’t know! They ran off into Ember Hollows after that fiasco with the wyverns. Maybe they’re gone for good!”

A fresh wave of grief tore through Beka at the mention of their children. She opened her mouth to hurl a retort, but a tremor ran through the air—a gust of wind from above, like a broad, sweeping force pushing down from the sky. The Guard stumbled, men craned their necks upward, and even Fig froze in place.

A low thunder rolled over the burnt ranch. Suddenly, three enormous shadows descended, blotting out the last rays of sunlight. The ground shook with the impact of landing so powerful it kicked up a cloud of ash. Heads turned in every direction, and the assembled group collectively gasped.

They were the largest wyverns anyone had ever seen—dark, hulking forms bristling with horns, wings so vast they made the sky tremble. Each scale appeared etched in steel, reflecting the embers that still glowed in the wreckage. Smoke drifted from the corners of their mouths. For a heartbeat, they looked like ancient gods demanding tribute.

Nick’s heart pounded. Beka paled, her hand darting up to cover her chest in alarm. The Ember Guard raised their weapons, but Marisol’s shout, “Hold!” kept them from firing. Fig shrank back, stumbling over a broken timber in his haste to get away.

As the swirling dust cleared, Nick realized there was something in one wyvern’s talons—a shape, or perhaps multiple shapes. In a slow, fluid motion, the massive beast lowered a gentle grip onto a patch of unburned grass. There, in the cradle of razor-sharp claws, were Ariel, Noah, and the tiny unicorn, Zed.

A cry escaped Beka’s lips. “Ariel! Noah!” She dashed forward, not caring about the gargantuan creatures looming over them. Nick followed, lungs tight with relief. He couldn’t breathe properly until he saw his children step down—alive, albeit dirty and trembling—from the wyvern’s grasp.

Noah’s eyes darted around in confusion, still shaken from the flight. Ariel took one stumbling step and found herself in Beka’s arms. She burst into tears, clutching her mother’s tunic. Nick pulled both children close, enveloping them in a fierce, trembling hug. Zed slipped between their legs, nuzzling Nick’s calf with a soft nicker.

“Oh, my babies,” Beka crooned, tears streaming down her face. “We were so worried. We thought we lost you.”

“I’m okay,” Ariel managed, her voice raw from wind and tears. “Noah too… we’re okay. Just… tired.”

Nick’s voice cracked. “Thank the heavens you’re safe.” His gaze slid over Ariel’s shoulder to the adult wyverns. The two largest stood guard, scanning the perimeter with wary eyes. Smoke curled from their nostrils, warning any who might approach. The third lowered its head, scales shimmering like polished bronze in the dying light.

A deep, resonant tone rippled through the air, not quite speech, but something deeper—a thrumming power that Nick felt more than heard. Beka let go of her children long enough to step toward them, hands trembling at her sides. As if in response, the bronze-scaled wyvern lowered its head until its snout nearly touched the ground in front of her.

“I am Drakthorn,” the creature’s voice resounded, or so it seemed in Beka’s mind. “Father to the young you protected. My mate, Cinderalis, stands behind me. We owe you a debt unmeasurable.”

Beka’s lips parted, astonishment warring with awe. “We—” she started, voice faltering. “We only wanted to protect them from Fig’s men. They deserved to live, free from… from all this.”

Drakthorn shifted, letting loose a slow exhalation that warmed the air. Cinderalis rumbled softly, the glow of her fierce, amber eyes reflecting the destruction around them. “You gave your own children’s safety to protect ours,” her mind-voice echoed. “In return, we have guarded yours.”

Nick remembered the younger wyverns—Neo, Silverwing, and their sibling—and realization dawned on him. These must be their parents, come to reclaim their lost brood.

A hush fell. The Ember Guard held their positions, but no one moved to threaten these enormous beasts. Even Fig stared wide-eyed, too stunned to protest. Councilwoman Marisol gaped, transfixed by the sheer majesty of the wyverns.

Then, as if sensing the fragile détente, Drakthorn spoke once more. “We will not forget this debt. We shall watch over you from afar, as you have watched over ours.”

Beka’s eyes misted again. “We will do the same. We… we want no more fighting, no more kidnapping. Our home—” She faltered, glancing at the charred remains. Her lips trembled. “We’ll rebuild.”

Ariel stepped forward, leaning on her father. “I’m sorry. So sorry you lost your home, too,” she murmured to Drakthorn. “I promise… if we ever see your young again, we’ll keep them safe.”

Drakthorn and Cinderalis bowed their massive heads in unison, a gesture of solemn respect. Then they spread their colossal wings, each powerful stroke stirring gusts of wind that flattened the ash around them. In a great surge of motion, they launched into the sky. The roar of their flight rippled across the remains of the ranch, scattering cinders and embers in glowing trails. For a moment, their silhouettes merged with the twilight sky, huge and regal, before they vanished beyond the distant hills.

Nick stood, holding both his children close, feeling the rhythmic trembling of Beka at his side. The Ember Guard and council members let out a collective breath, as though awakening from a dream. Even the horses whinnied and pawed the ground, keenly aware some monumental presence had just departed.

At that moment, a silver shape emerged from the blackened treeline. Celeste, and then Silvermist, followed by a cautious line of unicorns—adults and a few timid Unis—stepped onto the charred field. They sniffed the air, flicking their tails at the acrid smoke. Clearly shaken, the unicorns still sensed the threat had passed. As they drifted closer, Nick felt a bittersweet pang—these animals had called the ranch home as surely as his family had, and now all was lost.

Before Nick could speak, Councilwoman Marisol’s voice cut through the heavy silence. “Elder Fig!” she barked, her earlier shock tempered by an emerging resolve. “You have misled this assembly, hired thugs to destroy the ranch, and endangered all of Emberwood. I hereby strip you of your title and place you under arrest.”

Fig, who had shrunk against the remains of a half-collapsed stable, gaped in horror as the Ember Guard seized his arms. Several more men—his accomplices—were pulled from the rubble, any fight in them dissolved by the spectacle of giant wyverns. Muted protests rose from them, but no one listened. The guard slapped cuffs on their wrists, and they were marched away, heads hanging low.

The unicorns watched with grim satisfaction. Celeste nudged Beka’s shoulder gently, as though offering solace. Silvermist, still bearing dust from her flight, bowed her head, and Beka placed a shaky hand on the unicorn’s muzzle.

Marisol crossed the scorched ground, gaze sweeping over Nick, Beka, and the children. She swallowed, clearly moved by the devastation. “The council will help you rebuild,” she said quietly, voice faltering with empathy. “You’ve done too much for Emberwood for us to turn our backs on you now. I… I’m sorry it took such tragedy for us to realize Fig’s treachery.”

Nick exhaled, relief commingling with heartbreak. “Thank you,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll accept any help you can give, but first—” He took a moment to gather himself, pressing a fierce kiss against the top of Ariel’s head. “First, let us… just grieve.”

He turned to face the wreckage, arm around Beka, his other hand resting on Noah’s shoulder. The children clung to their parents, tears flowing anew. The ranch they had loved so deeply, the place generations of Luminaris had called home, lay in ruins. But they were alive, and that simple truth felt like the faintest ember of hope burning amid the ashes.

Ariel gazed up at the sky, half-expecting to see the distant silhouettes of Drakthorn, Cinderalis, and their brood. Only clouds drifted there now, tinted by the final glow of sunset. In her heart, she knew they were out there, watching—just as her family would always watch over them. Somehow, that gave her a sense of peace.

A hush settled over the clearing as the Ember Guard led Fig and his men away. The unicorn herd drifted around the family, forming a circle of warmth and familiarity in a place that was otherwise blackened and scarred. Celeste nuzzled Nick’s back, and Silvermist stood protectively at Beka’s side.

For a long moment, the Luminaris family simply held each other, tears mingling with relieved laughter. They had lost so much, yet remained alive, united, and cradled by a community—both human and unicorn—that still cared.

Noah wiped his eyes, a shaky grin creasing his soot-smudged face. “Guess we’ll be doing a lot of building soon.”

Beka’s chest hitched. “Yes,” she whispered, “we will. And this time… we’ll make it even stronger.”

Nick closed his eyes, taking in the scent of ash and the quiet presence of his beloveds. “We’re going to be okay,” he murmured, more a vow than a statement. And as they clutched each other in the ruins of their past life, he felt a steadfast certainty: a new beginning waited in these very ashes, lit by the fires of courage, love, and friendships forged with creatures once thought enemies.

And with that knowledge, the Luminaris family stood, heartbreak bound with hope, ready to face whatever tomorrow might bring.

The End...