Page 22 of Beneath Scales and Shadows (Lost Lunas of Artania #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

SORA

Sora smoothed her tunic, adjusting the silver clasps designed to accommodate the scales spreading across her collarbones. She hadn’t planned to visit her family today, but with everything happening—the impending council meeting, the message from Celestoria, the growing heat within her body—she might not get another chance before leaving to finish what Ignis had been trying to end all his life.

And to save Coal—along with whoever else they had for prisoners.

“You’re sure about this?” she asked, glancing at Ignis who strode beside her, his crimson scales catching the glowstone light.

He nodded, wings swaying against his back with each step. “The council won’t assemble until the evening meal. We have time.”

Their steps echoed against stone as they descended deeper into the mountain, following winding passages illuminated by the pulsing light of crystal formations embedded in the walls and glowstone baskets. Unlike the upper reaches designed for winged clan members, these lower guest quarters accommodated those without flight.

“My family will have questions.” She absently touched the ruby scale embedded in her side, its warmth reassuring against her fingertips. “Questions I’m not sure how to answer.”

Ignis’s hand found the small of her back, steady and grounding. “Then answer with your truth, little Luna. It’s all anyone can do.”

The guest chambers reserved for her family stood along a wide corridor carved from living stone. Mineral veins traced geometric patterns across the walls, providing both light and heat—an elegant solution for non-dragon comfort that didn’t require the maintenance of fires.

Sora paused before the door, her new senses picking up the familiar scents of her family—her father’s woodsmoke-and-yeast, her mother’s cinnamon-and-flour, Morgana’s vanilla-and-spice.

And beneath those, traces of fear, confusion, grief.

How am I able to smell emotions?

Her hand trembled as she raised it to knock.

Ignis’s tail curled around her ankle, offering silent support. She drew strength from the contact, knuckles rapping firmly against polished wood.

The door swung open, revealing Garth’s broad frame. His eyes widened, flicking between his daughter and the towering dragoon form rising behind her, Ignis’s presence casting long shadows across the chamber.

“Sora,” he breathed, relief washing away the exhaustion etched in his features. “I thought we’d lost you. Again.”

She swallowed hard, his words cutting deep. Guilt carved through her chest, sharp and sudden.

She barely had time to brace herself before he pulled her into a crushing embrace, his arms enveloping her completely. Tears pricked her eyes as she returned the hug, burying her face against his flour-dusted tunic.

“I’m alright,” she murmured, unsure why her body was reacting the way it was. “I’m safe.”

Miranda appeared in the doorway, her usually stern expression crumpling at the sight of her daughter. “My child!” She joined the embrace, her hands trembling as they traced Sora’s face, lingering on the silver scales at her temples with tremulous curiosity.

Over her mother’s shoulder, Sora spotted Morgana hanging back, guilt and uncertainty shadowing her features. Beside her stood Lyra, the scholar’s robes torn and dirty but her eyes bright as her gaze flicked between Ignis and Sora, sharp with curiosity.

“Come in, come in,” Garth urged, finally releasing his grip to usher them inside.

The family quarters were far more spacious than Sora had expected—a central living space with plush cushions arranged around a low table, doorways leading to separate sleeping chambers on either side, and a bathing chamber directly across from the entrance. Crystals glowed from recessed alcoves, bathing everything in soft golden light as glowstone hung over the lounge area.

Ignis had to duck to enter, his wings folding tightly against his back to navigate the human-proportioned space. His presence immediately filled the room, making it feel smaller despite its generous dimensions.

Miranda guided Sora to the nearest sitting area while Garth squared his shoulders, moving to stand directly before Ignis. Despite the baker’s impressive height, he barely reached the dragon king’s chest. Yet something in Garth’s stance reminded Sora powerfully of her father from Earth—the same protective determination, the same unflinching courage when it came to his daughter’s wellbeing.

It felt oddly like high school—like bringing home her first boyfriend for introductions before a date.

“I need to know you’re treating my daughter right,” Garth said, the words firm despite the tremor beneath them. “Dragon king or not, that’s my child.”

The man was either brave or foolish—but he had the Moon Goddess on his side regarding Ignis’s temperament.

A flash of respect crossed Ignis’s features. He inclined his head slightly, taloned hands relaxed at his sides. “Your daughter has been honored as befits her station. No harm has come to her within my mountain or land.”

“And outside it?” Garth pressed, gesturing to the ruby scale embedded in Sora’s side, visible now as she sat beside Miranda.

“That,” Ignis replied, voice roughening, “was my life freely given to save hers when harm found her beyond my territory.”

The two regarded each other, beta human father challenging alpha dragon king in silent assessment. She’d picked up enough about the social hierarchies to know that Garth wouldn’t have a chance of winning if they were being serious—Ignis would’ve easily won.

Then, seemingly satisfied, Garth nodded and stepped aside.

Sora watched the exchange, torn between embarrassment and pride. Something about seeing her borrowed father stand up to a dragon king—for her—twisted emotions inside her chest that she couldn’t quite sort through.

It made her miss Earth… a place where she could never return, for she’d died there.

“We’ve been so worried,” Miranda said, her fingers clasping Sora’s with desperate strength. “When they took us from the northern pass, we thought—” Her voice broke. “We feared we’d never see you again.”

“I’m sorry you were dragged into this.” Guilt clawed at Sora’s throat. “It was never my intention for any of you to suffer.”

“The royal guards kept talking about prophecies,” Lyra interjected, leaning forward with scholarly intensity. “About the twice-born. About how Princess Jewels tried to eliminate you before the transformation could complete.”

A heavy silence fell across the room. Morgana, who had remained standing near one of the bedroom doorways, took a halting step forward.

“Is it true?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “What the guards were saying? That you’re my sister but... not?”

Sora met her gaze, seeing genuine confusion beneath the lingering jealousy. She glanced at Ignis, who nodded encouragement, his crimson eyes steady on hers.

“Perhaps you should all sit,” she suggested. “This isn’t a simple explanation.”

They arranged themselves around the room—Garth and Miranda on either side of Sora, Lyra perched eagerly on a cushion opposite, Morgana reluctantly taking a seat at the table’s edge. Ignis remained standing, too large and powerful for the delicate human furniture. Instead, he positioned himself behind Sora, wings folding neatly as his shadow stretched across the floor. The steady heat of him at her back, the low sound of his breath—somehow, it settled her nerves more than any words could.

“What I’m about to tell you will sound impossible,” Sora began, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “But I swear by the Moon Goddess that every word is true.”

She drew a deep breath, gathering courage—needing to pull the Band-Aid off in one swift yank.

“I am not the daughter you raised.” The words fell like stones into still water. “At least, not entirely. I died on Earth—the blue-green marble you see hanging in your night sky. When your true daughter drowned in the frozen lake, my soul was somehow transported here—into her body—at the exact moment of our deaths.”

“Earth?” Garth’s brow furrowed. “The Blue Knight?”

“Where I’m from, Artania doesn’t exist—or at least isn’t visible. And your Blue Knight is Earth, my world.” Sora gestured vaguely upward. “A planet of cities and sadly, destruction, where monsters exist only in stories and legends.”

Miranda’s hand rose to her mouth, eyes widening with shock. “Our daughter is... gone?”

The pain in her voice lanced through Sora’s heart. “Her body remains, but her soul has passed. Somehow, the Moon Goddess chose me to take her place, to fulfill some purpose here on Artania.”

Tears welled in Miranda’s eyes, spilling down her weathered cheeks as years of motherhood shattered in an instant. Garth reached across Sora, fingers wrapping around his wife’s hand, eyes glinting with a glistening shine.

“That explains why you were so different,” he said quietly with a frown. “After they found you by the lake. I thought it was just memory loss from the cold, but you were...”

“A stranger wearing your daughter’s face,” Sora finished, voice thick with regret. “I’m sorry. I never meant to deceive you.”

“The prophecy speaks of the twice-born,” Lyra murmured, eyes alight with academic excitement despite the emotional tension. “Souls from the Blue Moon, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself, who would restore balance to our realm.”

Morgana rose abruptly, pacing the small space with agitated steps. “So all this time, I’ve been competing with—what? A ghost? Some otherworldly spirit occupying my sister’s corpse?”

“No,” Sora said firmly, shaking her head. “I’m not a ghost or a spirit. I’m a person—a woman who died on Earth and woke here. This body may have once belonged to your sister, but it’s mine now.”

“And the scales?” Miranda asked, fingers trembling as she reached to touch the silver patterns decorating Sora’s skin. “These weren’t there before.”

“Dragon blood,” Ignis supplied, his deep voice rumbling through the chamber. “Dormant in your family line for generations, awakened by her soul crossing between worlds.”

“Dragon blood?” Garth’s head snapped up. “In our family?”

Sora nodded. “Somewhere in your ancestry, a dragon and human must have mated. The bloodline thinned over centuries, but it remained—waiting for the right circumstances to manifest again.”

A strange expression crossed Garth’s face—not disgust as she’d feared, but something almost like pride. “My grandfather used to tell stories of a great-great-grandmother who disappeared into the mountains for a season and returned... changed. The family considered it madness, but he insisted it was truth.”

“And now you’re what—becoming a dragon?” Morgana demanded, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“I’m becoming what I was always meant to be,” Sora corrected gently. “Not quite dragon, not quite human. Something in between.”

She exhaled slowly, steadying herself as her gaze lifted, locking with theirs—as she hoped they would understand. “I do have fragments of your sister’s memories. They come to me sometimes—guiding me, showing me how to navigate this world. But they’re becoming less frequent now as the transformation progresses.”

Miranda’s shoulders shook with silent sobs. Garth pulled her close, his own grief evident in the tight lines around his mouth. Sora wanted to comfort them but didn’t know how—what right did she have to ease pain she herself had caused simply by existing?

“I never asked for this,” she whispered, hoping for them to understand. “Any more than your daughter asked to die. But I’m trying to honor her sacrifice by doing what I can to help this world—to fulfill whatever purpose the Moon Goddess had in bringing me here.”

The silence stretched, broken only by Miranda’s quiet weeping. Then, to Sora’s surprise, the woman pulled away from her husband and seized Sora’s hands in a fierce grip.

“She’s not gone completely, then,” Miranda said, her voice thick, edges fraying with emotion she didn’t bother to hide. “If her memories live in you, some part of her continues.”

“I...” Sora hadn’t considered it that way. “I suppose that’s true.”

“The Moon Goddess blesses us even in sorrow,” Miranda continued, tears still tracking down her face, but she made no attempt to wipe them away. “She took my daughter’s soul to peace while gifting her body to her chosen Luna. There is purpose in this pain.”

Her acceptance stunned Sora. She’d expected anger, rejection—not this spiritual understanding that transcended grief.

Garth cleared his throat. “You said you were someone else on your world. Who were you there?”

“A historian,” Sora replied, gratitude warming her voice. “A researcher who studied ancient artifacts and weapons. I was examining dragon relics the night I died.”

“A scholar,” Garth said with a faint smile. “That explains why kitchen work confused you so. Our Sora could bake circles around most by the time she was twelve.”

A lump formed in Sora’s throat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be her for you.”

“You are who you were meant to be,” Miranda said simply. “The Moon Goddess makes no mistakes.”

Morgana had stopped pacing, her expression unreadable as she watched the exchange. Finally, she approached, kneeling before Sora with head bowed.

“It was I who spoke to Princess Jewels,” she confessed, voice cracking as she exposed her neck in submission. “I told her about how your scent had changed, and how you were acting different. I thought—” Her words faltered. “I thought removing you from duty would restore what I’d worked my entire life to achieve. I didn’t think and I let jealousy blind me. I never imagined they would hurt our parents... or that dragons would have any connection to you.”

“Jealousy often blinds us to truth.” Sora’s breath left her in a slow exhale, the shimmer along her spine betraying the turmoil she kept buried. The princess’s hostility wasn’t unearned—she’d played her part in it—but her sister never considered the aftermath, the wreckage left behind. “You’re not the only one who’s struggled to find where you belong.”

“How can you possibly forgive this?” Morgana whispered, tears falling thick down her face.

“Because we’re family—not by circumstance, but by choice.” Sora extended her hand, remembering her own journey from denial to acceptance. “And in this new world we’re building, everyone deserves the chance to redefine themselves.”

Morgana hesitated, then took the offered hand. “You’ve changed.”

“We’ve all changed,” Sora replied, glancing at each face in turn. “None of us can go back to who we were before. We can only move forward from here—and hope to end this madness.”

Ignis shifted behind her, his presence a silent reminder of everything awaiting them beyond this family reunion. She felt his urgency through their bond—the coming council meeting, the message from Celestoria, the plans that needed making.

“We can’t stay long,” she said reluctantly. “There’s a council meeting tonight, and much to prepare for.”

“You’re going back, aren’t you?” Lyra’s voice barely rose above a whisper as her gaze searched Sora’s face. “To Celestoria. To face them again.”

Ignis growled, the sound vibrating through the stone floor. The family startled except for Sora, who had grown accustomed to his… dragoness.

“We have unfinished business with the royal family,” she confirmed, not wanting to burden them with the details of Coal’s capture or the essence harvesting.

Garth’s expression darkened. “After everything they’ve done—”

“It’s complicated,” Sora interrupted gently. “Politics between kingdoms always is. But know that I’m safe here.” She reached back, her fingers brushing against Ignis’s scaled arm. “I’m protected.”

The gesture didn’t escape Garth’s notice. His eyes narrowed as they tracked between his daughter and the dragon king. “And what exactly is your relationship with His Majesty?”

Heat crept up Sora’s neck, warming her cheeks. Through their bond, she felt Ignis’s amusement at her discomfort, along with something possessive that made her skin tingle.

“That’s also complicated,” she hedged. “But know he takes good care of me.”

“She is my Luna,” Ignis stated, the simple declaration resonating with unmistakable claim. “ My queen. My mate.”

“Mate?” Miranda’s eyebrows shot up. “As in—”

“It’s not what you think,” Sora interjected hastily, though the spreading warmth in her cheeks belied her protest. “It’s a blood bond—a ritual connection that saved my life. We’re not... that is, we haven’t...”

She trailed off, mortified to be discussing such things with people who still felt like her parents, even if they technically weren’t.

Garth’s expression shifted from protective to thoughtful as he studied Ignis. “You love her, then? This twice-born soul in my daughter’s body?”

Ignis met his gaze directly, no evasion in his crimson eyes. “With all that I am and all that I have. She is my treasure, freely chosen rather than simply destined.”

The simple declaration stole Sora’s breath. They’d spoken of desire, of connection, of prophecy—but never had he stated his feelings so plainly, so publicly. Through their bond, she felt the truth of it—a love that transcended physical form, that had waited centuries for recognition.

Garth nodded slowly, something like approval flashing across his weathered features. “Then you have my blessing, for whatever that’s worth to a dragon king.”

“It is worth more than you know,” Ignis replied, inclining his head in respect. “Family bonds are sacred to dragonkind.”

Miranda dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Our daughter—a dragon queen. The other bakers’ wives will never believe it.”

Despite everything, Sora found herself laughing—the sound startled out of her by the sheer absurdity of the situation. A historian from Earth, reborn on an impossible moon, transformed by ancient magic, and bound to a dragon king... discussing it all over tea like some commonplace occurrence.

“I’m still figuring out what all this means,” she admitted, gesturing to herself. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“For all of us,” Lyra agreed, her scholar’s eyes bright with unspoken questions. Sora knew that when they were finally alone, Lyra’s questions would come too fast for her to think straight. “I can’t wait to hear all about your journey.”

A comfortable silence settled over the room, broken only by the soft hiss of crystal formations as they pulsed with light. Sora felt something loosen in her chest—a knot of tension she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying. They knew her truth now, all of it, and hadn’t rejected her. It was more than she’d dared hope for.

Somehow, she had a family… people to call her own.

Ignis’s hand settled on her shoulder, a gentle reminder of time passing. “The council will be gathering soon.”

Sora nodded, rising reluctantly from her seat. “We have to go. But I’ll come back—I promise. Once everything is settled.”

Miranda stood as well, pulling Sora into another fierce embrace. “Be careful, my child. Twice-born or not, you are family now.”

“You’ve always protected others,” Garth added, joining the hug. “Even as a little girl. But remember to protect yourself as well.” When he let go, he turned to Ignis, squared his shoulders, and gave a sharp lift of his chin. “You better keep your promise and make sure my daughter returns without another injury.”

Ignis let out an amused huff. “I plan on it.”

Morgana hung back until Miranda extended a hand, drawing her into the family circle. The embrace felt strange yet oddly right.

When they finally pulled apart, Sora looked at each face in turn, committing them to memory. Whatever awaited them at Celestoria, she would carry this moment with her—this acceptance, this belonging.