The morning sun painted the Silverstone gardens in shades of amber and gold, but the three dragons cast shadows vast enough to eclipse entire city blocks. Luna nestled against Seraphina's chest, her newly unified consciousness radiating contentment and exhaustion in equal measure.
Bahamut was the first to move. The golden dragon lowered his massive head until his eye—larger than Seraphina's entire body—was level with the small family. When he spoke, his mental voice carried the weight of ages.
"We have witnessed something that occurs perhaps once every ten millennia. The successful integration of Moon Goddess and Reality Anchor bloodlines into a single, stable consciousness." He paused, and there was genuine wonder in his tone. "Most attempts end in death or madness. You should be proud of your daughter."
