Satisfied at seeing the elusive constellation herself, Abi’s mind sparked into a new focus- the question she longed to finally ask her father!

A day passed since they left the port of the city where their parents had lived in their youth, Abi and her brother wasted no time exploring the markets and shops with Ruvi in tow. Abi noted many of the city’s denizens addressed her father with reverent bows, a lowering of eyes in a mixture of deference and a tinge of unease and amazement. Some called him “Prince”, though he brushed this aside and insisted on his name. But some called him “Dragon” or “The Dragon”, and at that, he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny, but more often than not, he laughed and nodded in familiar recognition. 

But what stuck with Abi was the scraps of a conversation between an old man and an even older woman:

“Say- that’s not the Prince? The one who became a dragon? I knew he turned into a man once again! But he wedded and had a daughter and son?”

“That’s the same one! And his wife- I heard she learned magic, a sorceress in her own right. Who’d believe her fate? A tavern-maiden turned sorceress, marrying a prince who turned into a dragon! The stuff of tales! But it’s true!”

Abi wanted to ask the old man and woman if they spoke the truth. Both Abi and her brother knew well their parents’ skill in magic- from the most mundane tasks to fending off brigands both magical and mortal, they saw their parents’ handiwork before their eyes. 

Now Abi asked her father:

“Papa! The dragon!” Abi sputtered. “The people in the city, they said you were once a prince! And they said you were a dragon, too! Really, Papa? A dragon?”

Ruvi looked less impressed. “Abi, magic doesn’t turn people into things. They just do things. That’s magic!”

Abi shot an accusative glare at her brother’s naysaying correction. “No, Magic does all sort of stuff! I read it in Mama and Papa’s books! People can turn into all sort of creatures! I just never saw one!” She then turned back to her father, whose face shaded with a thoughtful, poignant gaze. 

“Papa! Were you really a dragon?”

“Mama, did you really marry a dragon?”

“Should we tell them, Zhuel?” the mother asked, noticing her husband’s reflective mien. 

“The time would come anyway, Beloved. Now is good as any time.” Her husband answered.

He settled the two young ones down and looked at them straightly. “Perhaps our lesson strays from the stars and onto our family history, it seems. You both are old enough to know now.”

“Can you still turn into one? Like right now?”

“Abi, magic can’t do that, Mama says it takes a lot of time!”

“Quiet, Ruvi!”

“You two, enough quarreling-” reproached the father at his bickering young ones. 

With a gentle sweep, the mother parted the two, sticking their tongues out and snseering, whisking them onto the large divan.

“We both shall tell you our story,” The mother explained.

Now satisfied the pair were quieted, the father nodded. 

“Our story is a long one-”

“We like long stories!” Abi proclaimed, nearly leaping from her seat. 

“I listen to them!” hissed Ruvi. 

“I do too!” Abi shot back, glaring resentfully. 

Their father took his own seat, sliding a heavy, lion-footed chair next to the divan as their mother sat between the two, acting as a peace-maker of sort for their children.

“You can both listen to our story. It is a story of a prince who turned into a dragon,” began their father, who looked at their mother with a soft gaze of remembrance.

“And a girl who became brave through her own magic,” finished their mother.

And their story began.