Whispers Of The Wyrm

The clouds over Mount Qiyan parted like curtains at a grand play. Below, the hidden valley shimmered with ancient enchantments, its golden trees rustling as if whispering secrets older than time.

Shen Yueli stood at the edge of the temple stairs, one hand shielding her eyes from the light, the other gripping a scroll sealed in dragon bone wax.

" She's growing again," she muttered,

more to herself than anyone else.

Beside her, Di Yan adjusted his grip on their daughter, who was no longer a gurgling infant, but a wide-eyed toddler with starlight in her gaze and moon fire curling in her tiny fists. Her hair, once barely a tuft, now shimmered with strands of dusk and dawn, and her words had multiplied— along with her chaos.

" No more biting the priestess," Di Yan reminded gently, as the little one glared at the scroll like it had personally insulted her lunch.

" She asked if I was just a child," the toddler huffed. " I am The Child."

" You tell her, star bean," Yueli grinned.

Behind them, spirit wolves prowled with glowing eyes, and their new companion— an ancient bird-dragon named Sael— perched atop the highest temple spire,

feathers catching the sun like a living flame.

The scroll pulsed.

Yueli opened it.

It didn't contain words.

It sang.

A haunting melody rose from the parchment— notes in a language neither Di Yan nor Yueli recognized, but their daughter's eyes widened as if remembering something. She began to hum along, matching each note perfectly.

And with every note, the valley shifted.

Temples peeled back their illusions.

Glyphs emerged on the cliff sides. Pools of still water revealed floating images— visions of a girl cloaked in time, wearing a crown of stars.

" It's her," Yueli breathed.

" The future version," Di Yan murmured.

Their daughter nodded solemnly. " She's me. But older. And not… here."

Just then, the earth shook.

A great tremor cracked the temple

steps. The waters trembled and an ancient voice echoed across the valley:

" She awakens. The last Wyrm. Keeper of Secrets. Watcher of the Rift."

A gash of light tore open in the sky above them— like someone had drawn a blade across reality itself. And from it, a scaled shape began to unfurl.

Yueli flared into action, summoning vines, flames, and shield- glyphs all at once. Di Yan's blade was already drawn, glowing with runes and firelight. But their daughter?

She took a step forward.

Unafraid.

The dragon descended not with rage,

but sorrow. Its eyes, ancient and gold,

settled on the child as it bowed its massive head.

" You carry her light," it rumbled. " You carry her memory."

" Whose?" Yueli demanded, stepping in front of her child.

The dragon's wings trembled. " The girl who came before time. The one born before magic chose a name."

The baby blinked.

Then, with the confidence only a magical toddler could have, she touched the wyrm's snout.

And the dragon wept.

From its tears bloomed stardust flowers, glowing petals spinning into the air and forming a crown— one not of gold, but of memory, music, and myth.

Yueli and Di Yan exchanged a look.

" She's… not becoming someone," Yueli said quietly.

" She's remembering who she was."

The daughter turned to them, face solemn, older than her years for a moment. " I'm still me. Just… more me now."

Di Yan knelt. " Do you want to remember everything?"

The girl looked toward the rift in the sky.

" Only what helps me protect you."

Yueli couldn't help the tears prickling in her eyes. " You're not supposed to be the protector, little star."

But their daughter just smiled. " Then let's protect each other."

The dragon lifted its head and began to sing— a new song, one that cracked open the sky itself.

From the rift spilled visions: glimpses of a war between gods, the fall of celestial realms, and one child— marked by star and flame— standing at the heart of it all, not breaking, but binding.

The visions ended.

The sky mended.

The dragon faded.

And the crown of memory remained.

Di Yan picked it up, holding it like it might shatter. " This… this is not a gift."

" No," Yueli said. " It's a warning."

Their daughter nodded.

" I'm turning one soon," she said.

Yueli raised a brow. " You remember that?"

" I dreamed it," she whispered. " The Oracle's words. The storm. The truths. They come when I turn one."

" Then we prepare," Di Yan said. " No more surprises."

The valley darkened— not with night, but with purpose.

This was not the end of the journey.

It was the spark that lit the fuse.

And the moment their little girl took her place in the shape of things to come.