The island's weather was almost always predictable—warm breezes, gentle rains, and golden sunrises that kissed the fields awake.
But today was different.
Clouds rolled in from the northeast, thick and dark but not menacing. They carried the scent of distant rain and cool wind. Ryuuji stood on the porch, watching the horizon while sipping a mug of roasted root brew that tasted vaguely like chicory and ash.
Behind him, the cozy sound of Kiko humming echoed from the hearth, where she was playing with her handmade dolls—one looked like a crimson wolf, the other like a tiny armored Ryuuji with a comically oversized wooden sword.
"You're the big bad wolf!" Kiko declared in a deep voice, shaking the red doll. "And I'm Papa, the hero who turns you into a fluffy pillow!"
The other doll fell flat on its back with a dramatic plop, and Kiko threw her arms in the air. "Victory!"
Ryuuji chuckled, still watching the shifting sky. "Looks like a rainy afternoon."
"Yay! That means inside day!" Kiko cheered.
Elysia emerged from the rear door, holding a bundle of scrolls and a half-finished quilt. "Or reading day," she suggested, placing her things on the table.
Kiko tilted her head. "Are we going to the dragon library?"
Ryuuji looked over. "That still a thing? I thought your people moved the archives when they migrated here."
Elysia gave a mysterious smile. "They did. Want to see where?"
The Dragon Archive Beneath the Earth
It turned out the library wasn't just in the island—it was under it.
A hidden path behind the main hill led them to a stone stairwell carved into the rock, lined with faintly glowing moss that shimmered with faint blues and greens. Kiko clung to Ryuuji's hand, eyes wide with curiosity, while Elysia led the way with a faint gleam of pride in her expression.
When they reached the bottom, Ryuuji's breath caught.
The underground hall stretched wide and high, supported by natural arches and enchanted crystal pillars. Scrolls, tomes, and magical artifacts lined stone-carved shelves, and several dragons in humanoid forms wandered about—some sorting scrolls, others writing into glowing books with ethereal quills.
"Whoa…" Ryuuji breathed. "It's… cozy."
Elysia raised an eyebrow. "You expected something grander?"
"I expected skulls. Fire. Maybe a lava moat."
"Please," she said with a flick of her braid. "That's for young dragons trying to look impressive. This is the real heart of our wisdom."
Kiko had already wandered over to a low shelf labeled Beginner's Magic Theory for Hatchlings, her small finger running along the runes.
Ryuuji crouched beside her. "Want to pick one?"
She looked up and nodded eagerly.
Elysia guided them to a quieter reading alcove where the walls were lined with soft tapestries depicting ancient dragon lore—tales of peace and war, love and flight, storms and serenity.
Kiko opened her chosen scroll and gasped. "This one has pictures!"
Ryuuji leaned over her shoulder. "Looks like it teaches basic magic runes. Oh! That's the symbol for cleanse. You've used that one before."
"I wanna learn more!" she declared.
Elysia smiled. "Then you shall."
And just like that, the afternoon became an impromptu lesson. Elysia explained the origin of the runes, Ryuuji helped Kiko pronounce the incantations, and Kiko gleefully practiced casting a tiny light spell that made her fingertips glow like fireflies.
"Look! Look, Papa! I'm a candle!"
Ryuuji ruffled her hair. "You're brighter than any candle."
Rainfall and Falling Stars
By the time they emerged from the archives, the rain had begun.
It wasn't harsh—more like a warm drizzle that tickled the skin and filled the air with the scent of wet stone and green leaves. Ryuuji held a cloak over Kiko while Elysia simply let the rain fall on her, arms open, face tilted skyward.
"This is a Skyclean Rain," she said softly. "It only happens once every few years. The sky sheds old magic, cleansing itself before the cycle begins again."
Ryuuji looked up. Faint streaks of light danced behind the clouds—like threads of silver gently falling. They weren't lightning, but something else entirely.
"Mama! The sky is glowing!" Kiko gasped.
Elysia nodded. "That's the Starfall. It always follows the Skyclean."
They all sat under the porch roof, wrapped in soft blankets, Kiko between them, eyes wide as the clouds slowly parted to reveal a sky unlike any Ryuuji had ever seen.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of tiny lights rained down like glowing snowflakes. Some fell into the sea, vanishing in quiet flashes. Others drifted into the trees or sank into the earth.
Kiko reached out, and one landed on her palm before dissolving with a gentle pop.
"What are they?" Ryuuji asked.
"Leftover magic from ancient stars," Elysia replied. "The dragons say that when enough of them fall to the earth, the world rewrites a little piece of itself."
"Like… it heals?"
She nodded. "Or remembers."
Ryuuji leaned back, arms folded behind his head. "Well, then. This island's going to be full of memories tonight."
Later That Night
After Kiko had fallen asleep curled between them, her doll still clutched to her chest, Ryuuji and Elysia remained awake on the porch, watching the last of the magical rain drift down.
"She's learning fast," Elysia said, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face.
"She is," Ryuuji agreed. "Faster than I expected. She's got your discipline."
"And your stubbornness."
Ryuuji chuckled. "Bad combo."
"Maybe. Or maybe perfect." Elysia looked toward the forest. "The dragons have fully settled now. They're expanding toward the northern islets but respecting the ten-kilometer boundary. Just like we agreed."
"I appreciate that."
"You were right to set it. This is your space. Our space. Kiko's space."
A beat passed. Then Ryuuji asked something he hadn't said out loud before.
"Do you think we're… building something here? Something real?"
Elysia's gaze didn't waver. "I do. It might not be the grand empire you once could've ruled. But it's honest. Rooted. Living."
Ryuuji exhaled slowly. "Feels real."
Then, after a pause, he added, "Think we'll ever leave the island again?"
Elysia smiled. "Not until Kiko asks us to."
They watched the last starfall vanish beyond the horizon.
And in that silence, there was no burden of heroism. No weight of expectation. Just the soft breath of a child asleep, a dragon's warmth beside him, and the sound of the world remembering how to be gentle again.