The Last Dragon’s Curse

Chapter 1

Lyra

Lyra! Lyra!”

I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.

“Baby, can you come down?” Mom called again.

“Okay… can I freshen up first?” I called back, stretching my arms above my head.

“Don’t want your breakfast to get cold, baby!” she replied cheerfully, though I could hear the faint edge of impatience.

I laughed. I love my mom and the way she fusses over every little thing. Even ordinary mornings feel warm and special when she’s around. The smell of her perfume lingering in the hallway, the faint clatter of plates from the kitchen, the comforting hum of Dad reading the newspaper at the table… it all feels like home, like the rare kind of home I’ve been craving for years.

Since I can remember, we’ve always been on the move because of Dad’s job. New cities, new schools, new rooms that never felt like mine. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to pack my life into a few boxes, unpack, and pretend it was permanent. Friends I made would vanish in weeks, classmates would become strangers, and I learned early that it was easier not to get attached at all.

But now… finally… we’ve been in Scotland for three months, and we haven’t moved. Three months of the same streets, the same neighbors, the same small café down by the river. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Stability. And for the first time in years, I feel like I might have roots.

Even better, I finally have a best friend. She’s loud, stubborn, funny, and completely unafraid of me. Honestly, I’ve never had anyone like her before. She knows me better than anyone else in my life, which is both comforting and terrifying.

And tomorrow… tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday. I can hardly contain my excitement. Dad even said I might get a car this year. I’m giddy just thinking about it. I can almost see it—a small, sleek car parked in the driveway, mine to drive for the first time. Freedom, adventure, and a chance to finally feel like I’m stepping into my own life.

I swing my legs off the bed and hurry to the bathroom, almost skipping the floorboards. I brush my teeth as fast as I can, splash cold water on my face, and then freeze.

My brown eyes… are gone.

In their place, bright, vivid, sky-blue eyes stare back at me. They shine, almost glowing, as if something inside me has awakened. I blink. Twice. Nothing changes. My pulse jumps, and my hands tremble slightly as I touch my cheeks, my eyes, hoping it’s just a trick of the light.

It isn’t.

A strange thrill runs through me, mingled with fear. I can’t explain it. I don’t understand it. And yet, somehow, deep down, I feel as if something that’s been waiting for years has finally arrived.

I swallow and bolt downstairs, my heart hammering against my ribs. My best friend is already in the kitchen, her messy hair tied back in a ponytail, a plate of toast in front of her. She looks up at me, her eyes wide.

“Lyra! You look… different!” she exclaims.

I step closer, my stomach twisting with nerves. “I… I think my eyes…” I lift my face to show her, the blue reflecting the morning light.

Her mouth drops open. “What… how?”

Before I can answer, my parents exchange a tense glance. Their expressions are serious, tight, more worried than I’ve ever seen. It makes my chest tighten.

“It’s happening,” Mom murmurs, her voice low, almost shaking. “She’s getting older… the barriers are getting weak.”

Dad’s gaze locks on mine, sharp and calculating. “Her eyes… they’re changing.”

My stomach twists. “Mom… my eyes…” I whisper, confusion lacing my voice. Why are they acting like this? What do they mean by barriers?

My best friend takes a cautious step closer, her eyes flicking between me and my parents. “Lyra… what’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know,” I admit, panic starting to bubble up. My hands are shaking. I glance at the window, trying to ground myself in something normal—the bright morning sun, the smell of breakfast, the soft hum of the kettle—but even that feels distant now, like I’m seeing the world through someone else’s eyes.

Mom steps forward, her hand lightly brushing mine. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t panic. We just… we’ve been waiting for this day. It’s been coming for a long time, and now it’s here.”

I stare at her, heart pounding faster. “Waiting for… what?”

Dad clears his throat, his voice calm but firm. “You’ll understand soon. For now… just know that what’s happening is important. Very important. And it’s why we’ve been so careful all these years.”

I glance down at my hands, still shaking, then back at my parents. Everything feels… different. Alive. Charged. The ordinary world I knew—the one with school, friends, birthdays—is suddenly layered over something I can’t see yet.

“Lyra… it’s going to be okay,” Mom says again, but there’s a tightness in her shoulders I’ve never noticed before.

I look at my friend, who’s staring at me with wide eyes, her hand reaching out. “Are you… okay?” she asks softly.

I shake my head, words failing me. I can’t explain what’s happening. I don’t understand it myself.

And then I realize… my parents are whispering to each other again, their voices just low enough that I can’t hear the words. They glance at me, and I catch the fear in their eyes—the kind of fear that doesn’t make sense in a normal family.

I take a step back, looking from my friend to my parents and then at my own reflection in the shiny surface of the toaster. My eyes. Bright. Blue. Different. Alive.

Something is starting. Something I can feel in the pit of my stomach, like a storm gathering in silence before it breaks.

I swallow hard, my voice trembling. “Mom… Dad… what’s going on?”

They exchange another glance, longer this time. Mom bites her lip. Dad’s jaw tightens. Then Mom whispers, almost to herself, “It’s happening.”

My friend frowns. “Lyra… what do you mean ‘it’s happening’?”

But my parents don’t answer. They just look at me, their faces serious, heavy with things I can’t understand.

I glance down at my hands again. My eyes. Still blue. Bright. Shimmering. Unfamiliar.

And for the first time, a chill runs down my spine.

Something is happening. Something I’ve never been ready for.

And I have no idea what it is.