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The only things to fill the silence of the labyrinthine caverns were their twin, humming flames. Cal stood there, holding the world over her shoulders, as her father stood opposite to her, head down and ready to bear its blow. He showed no fear, no resignation, only patience. And, this time...

"Please," Cal said gently. "We'll be fine here, won't we? We can... we can conjure our own spirits here. Maybe we can make new lives. And it'll always be nighttime, so we can play by the fires of our tail, and stuff. We'll go out and fly and then come back to rest. Nobody else will matter. It'll...

"Why aren't... why aren't you listening? Why aren't you reacting? I just--I just got rid of all your one-way trips out of here! Now there's no way for you to win! D-do you get it?!" Owen's body fully solidified, leaving behind the ethereal tree as a centerpiece to the town. Cal shrank away at...

Owen stepped toward the exit again. "STOP!" The indigo flames crossed Owen's back, and he winced slightly at that one before slowly turning back to look at her. He sighed, contemplating something, and then nodded. "You aren't going to come with me if I leave, are you?" "Y-you won't leave...

"I'm not fighting you," Owen finally said. There had been a long silence between them. "Oh? Really? You?" Cal taunted. "Yeah, right... You want to fight me right now, don't you? Because that's all you do. That's all you WANT to do. I came from your head, I know what's going on! So what?! If--if...

"Cal, this isn't... how it should be. You know this." Owen stepped closer, but Cal didn't move. Her red flame grew, like she was ready to strike, but Owen was undeterred. "Come on. It's time to go; shake that off. You aren't yourself; look at your flame." Cal didn't listen. She only snarled and...

Owen carefully navigated Hot Spot as he knew it. Everything was like he remembered--aside from everyone not being there, of course. It seemed pretty clear why. This was some kind of reconstruction. It didn't feel like a trick or an illusion; this was real. Perhaps a conjuration of the storm, or...

The dim glow of nighttime mushrooms colored the rocky walls of the cave. Mixing with this light were flickering embers of orange and yellow. Owen was lying in the middle of these flames, enjoying the warmth; they licked at his scales and washed over his back. The flame at the end of his tail got...